ge, which is a good and honourable post of about 800 pounds
a year. I think that he will get it (782/7. He was elected Plumian
Professor of Astronomy and Experimental Philosophy in 1883.) when
Challis is dead, and he is very near his end. He has all the great
men--Sir W. Thomson, Adams, Stokes, etc.--on his side. He has lately
been chief examiner for the Mathematical Tripos, which was tremendous
work; and the day before yesterday he started for Southampton for
a five-weeks' tour to Jamaica for complete rest, to see the Blue
Mountains, and escape the rigour of the early spring. I believe that
George will some day be a great scientific swell. The War Office has
just offered Leonard a post in the Government Survey at Southampton, and
very civilly told him to go down and inspect the place, and accept or
not as he liked. So he went down, but has decided that it would not
be worth his while to accept, as it would entail his giving up his
expedition (on which he had been ordered) to Queensland, in Australia,
to observe the Transit of Venus. (782/8. Major Leonard Darwin, late
R.E., served in several scientific expeditions, including the Transits
of Venus of 1874 and 1882.) Dear old William at Southampton has not been
very well, but is now better. He has had too much work--a willing horse
is always overworked--and all the arrangements for receiving the British
Association there this summer have been thrown on his shoulders.

But, good Heavens! what a deal I have written about my sons. I have had
some hard work this autumn with the microscope; but this is over, and
I have only to write out the papers for the Linnean Society. (782/9.
i. "The Action of Carbonate of Ammonia on the Roots of Certain plants."
[Read March 16th, 1882.] "Journ. Linn. Soc." Volume XIX., 1882, page
239. ii. "The Action of Carbonate of Ammonia on Chlorophyll-bodies."
[Read March 6th, 1882.] Ibid., page 262.) We have had a good many
visitors; but none who would have interested you, except perhaps Mrs.
Ritchie, the daughter of Thackeray, who is a most amusing and pleasant
person. I have not seen Huxley for some time, but my wife heard this
morning from Mrs. Huxley, who wrote from her bed, with a bad account
of herself and several of her children; but none, I hope, are at all
dangerously ill. Farewell, my kind, good friend.

Many thanks about the picture, which if I survive you, and this I do not
expect, shall be hung in my study as a perpetual memento of you.