Your invitation is tantalising. I wish I could accept it. But it is now some six weeks that my excursions have been limited to a daily drive. The rest of my time I spend on the flat of my back, eating, drinking, and doing absolutely nothing besides, except taking iron and digitalis.
I meant to have gone abroad a month ago, but it turned out that my heart was out of order, and though I am getting better, progress is slow, and I do not suppose I shall get away for some weeks yet.
I have neither brains nor nerves, and the very thought of controversy puts me in a blue funk!
My doctors prophesy good things, as there is no valvular disease, only dilatation. But for the present I must subscribe myself (from an editorial point of view).
Your worthless and useless and bad-hearted friend,
T.H. Huxley.
[The British Association was to meet at Plymouth this year; and Mr. W.F. Collier (an uncle of John Collier, his son-in-law) invited Huxley and any friend of his to be his guest at Horrabridge.]
4 Marlborough Place, June 13, 1888.
My dear Mr. Collier,
It would have been a great pleasure to me to be your guest once more, but the Fates won't have it this time.