It was most kind of you to write me such a long and glowing letter.¹ In one way it is a good thing that all the world are not so big-hearted as yourself—it would make young men awfully conceited. Yet I value your opinion more than the opinion of anybody, because in other things I have always found your judgment more deep and sound than anybody’s. However, I will go to Huxley next Saturday for an antidote, as it is quite true what he said about himself at Cambridge, that he is not given to making panegyrics.²

On the whole, as I have said, I was surprised how well it was taken.³ And still more so in Yorkshire last week—where I was lecturing at Leeds and Halifax on Medusæ, and took occasion to wind up about you and your degree. I was perfectly astonished at the reception you got among such popular audiences. What a change you have lived to see! If ever human being had a right to cry ‘Vici’⁴—but you know it all better than I do.

About the grafts, I thought it most natural that you should not like the bother of having them done at Down, when there are such a multitude of other gardens belonging to do-nothing people. But as you have mentioned it, I may suggest that in the case of onions there is a difficulty in all the gardens I know—viz., that they are more or less infested with onion worms.⁵ If, therefore, you should know any part of your garden where onions have not grown for some years, I might do the grafts here in pots, and bring the promising ones to plant out at Down in May. Seed could then be saved in the following autumn. All the other plants could be grown in the other gardens, and well attended to.

That is a very interesting letter in ‘Nature.’⁶ What do you think of Dr. Sanderson’s paper in the same number, as to its philosophy and expression?⁷ I have sent a letter about animal psychology which I think will interest you.⁸

With kind regards to all, I remain, very sincerely and most respectfully (this is a bow which I specially reserve for you, and would make it lower, but for the fear of making myself ridiculous),

Geo. J. Romanes.

P.S.— I fear Mr. Morley would think my lecture too long, and not original enough for the ‘Fortnightly.’⁹