I begged him to take a week to consider what I had told him, and then by letter to inform me of the result. But he would not, however, hardly allow me to finish what I had to say, and expressed a firm determination not to alter his will, adding that I had five sons to provide for. After a short pause he implied (but unfortunately he here became very confused and forgot a word, which on subsequent reflection I think was probably "reversionary")--he implied that there was a chance, whether good or bad I know not, of his becoming possessed of some other property, and he finished by saying distinctly, "I will bequeath this to Huxley." What the amount may be (I fear not large), and what the chance may be, God only knows; and one cannot cross-examine a man about his will. He did not bind me to secrecy, so I think I am justified in telling you what passed, but whether it is wise on my part to send so vague a story, I am not at all sure; but as a general rule it is best to tell everything. As I know that you hate writing letters, do not trouble yourself to answer this.
P.S.--On further reflection I should like to hear that you receive this note safely. I have used up all my black-edged paper.
LETTER 782. TO ANTHONY RICH. Down, February 4th, 1882.
It is always a pleasure to me to receive a letter from you. I am very sorry to hear that you have been more troubled than usual with your old complaint. Any one who looked at you would think that you had passed through life with few evils, and yet you have had an unusual amount of suffering. As a turnkey remarked in one of Dickens' novels, "Life is a rum thing." (782/1. This we take to be an incorrect version of Mr. Roker's remark (in reference to Tom Martin, the Butcher), "What a rum thing Time is, ain't it, Neddy?" ("Pickwick," Chapter XLII.). A careful student finds that women are also apostrophised as "rum": see the remarks of the dirty-faced man ("Pickwick," Chapter XIV.).) As for myself, I have been better than usual until about a fortnight ago, when I had a cough, and this pulled me down and made me miserable to a strange degree; but my dear old wife insisted on my taking quinine, and, though I have very little faith in medicine, this, I think, has done me much good. Well, we are both so old that we must expect some troubles: I shall be seventy-three on Feb. 12th. I have been glad to hear about the pine-leaves, and you are the first man who has confirmed my account that they are drawn in by the base, with a very few exceptions. (782/2. "The Formation of Vegetable Mould through the Action of Worms," 1881, page 71.) With respect to your Wandsworth case, I think that if I had heard of it before publishing, I would have said nothing about the ledges (782/3. "Ledges of Earth on Steep Hill-sides" (ibid., page 278).); for the Grisedale case (782/4. "The steep, grass-covered sides of a mountainous valley in Westmorland, called Grisedale, were marked in many places with innumerable, almost horizontal, little ledges...Their formation was in no way connected with the action of worms (and their absence is an inexplicable fact)...(ibid., page 282.), mentioned in my book and observed whilst I was correcting the proof-sheets, made me feel rather doubtful. Yet the Corniche case (782/5. Ibid., page 281.) shows that worms at least aid in making the ledges. Nevertheless, I wish I had said nothing about the confounded ledges. The success of this worm book has been almost laughable. I have, however, been plagued with an endless stream of letters on the subject; most of them very foolish and enthusiastic, but some containing good facts, which I have used in correcting yesterday the "sixth Thousand."
Your friend George's work about the viscous state of the earth and tides and the moon has lately been attracting much attention (782/6. Published in the "Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society," 1879, 1880, 1881.), and all the great judges think highly of the work. He intends to try for the Plumian Professorship of Mathematics and Natural Philosophy at Cambridge, which is a good and honourable post of about 800 pounds a year.