Augusta Ada Lovelace to Faraday   27 October 1844

Ashley Combe | Porlock | Somerset | Sunday, 27th Octr.

Dear Mr Faraday,

I will not allow one day to pass, without thanking you for your two letters¹. They are in my eyes beautiful & interesting, because there is in them all that simple sincerity, which I have ever seemed to feel in you, (as if by a kind of magic); & which constitutes the feature which I repeat that I view with "little short of reverence"². You express surprise that I should regard you as I do. It is the singleness of your character which is at the foundation of my feelings respecting you. I think I see in you a man who never attempts "to serve two masters"³. I think I see in you a being who is ever willing to serve man as under God, but not to serve man instead of God, or to make man the go-between interposed between you & the Creator.

And, when I behold these characteristics united with high intellectual endowments, I cannot but look on you then as one of the few whom it is an honour & a privilege to know on this earth.

Your first letter has furnished me with subjects for deep consideration, & I have a good deal to say in reply to it, which I shall write you at my leisure (today I am rather pressed), & with all the frank openness of a friend of many years; on which footing I consider that circumstances have now placed us.

I believe that I perceive & sympathise completely in your present state, feelings, and circumstances. None perhaps could so truly do this; owing to some very peculiar combinations of experiences that I have myself passed thro', & which I rather think have seldom or never occurred to any one mortal before. It had not been my purpose even to speak to you more of myself than I should find requisite in order to enable you to understand me; nor is it my purpose now. I rather think however that I may find it necessary to say more to you, now & then of merely egotistical matter than I might have otherwise desired; because that thro' such communications only, will you be enabled to perceive how remarkably I am fitted to comprehend the present disproportion between your inward will & ideas, & the outward means of developping these into tangible shape & act.

It is only those who have passed thro' the horrible sufferings that I have myself, who can perhaps wholly understand your present state of inability. My spiritual & intellectual capabilities have been, & are, dearly & hardly earned. I believe that very few would submit to the life & the habits which I am forced to lead, & by which alone can I maintain vigour & efficiency either of mind or body.

It is a most extraordinary history, & one fitted for the ears of but very few. Scarcely any could understand it, if one attempted to relate or explain it. It would be to them all confusion & foolishness.

My life is one continuous sacrifice of every merely present comfort & gratification.

And if ever I yield to temptation for an instant, & relax to some apparently trivial act of self-indulgence, I pay for it in awful sufferings. What I designate as self-indulgence too, would be merely regarded as the common comforts of most people.

All I can say is I feel that is developping within me, thro' these very means which is beyond all price & all estimation, & which have thrown all merely earthly & ordinary gratifications as dust into my balance of happiness.

God seems to me to have written on my brow that I am for Him & not for myself; for Him & for his human creation under Him; but that never may I sit down & rest, & wish for self for one instant.

I told you that there was some literal truth in my metaphysical language about the "High Priestess". You will indeed perceive this, as I become more known to you.

The knowledge you have given me of your own present state, greatly modifies my views respecting what ought to [be] my course towards you. It modifies them, but it does not diminish from my desire & my determination (as far as you will permit me, that is) to draw towards you. To me, from the peculiar characteristics of my mind, you could impart & bequeath much of your ideas & plans, which you would perhaps be unable or unwilling to impart to almost any other scientific person; and by admitting me to intercourse with you, I think you may be enabled to depart this world (whenever in course of years that event does occur), with less of the feeling how much is left undone, than you would otherwise.

I shall never demand or expect any return from you for what I may bestow on you. I beg that you will not answer this letter, nor any letters of mine which do not call urgently for a reply. It is wholly unfitting that I should add to your engagements & labours. But you will perhaps allow me to diminish from them. And most effectually & faithfully I believe you will find me capable of doing this, as months go on, & you better know me, & find out how to use me.

I shall be in Town for a few days some time about the middle or end of next month. You will then, I am sure, give me a long evening quite quietly in St James' Sqre, & we will have a great deal of conversation, or only a little, or in short just what you may wish.

From you will I take my colour & tone.

Meanwhile I shall write again to you in a short time to say all that in this letter I have left unsaid, & which I wish you to hear previous to our meeting.

Do not answer me, (that is unless you really feel you like & can).

And think of me as a creature who would give all, & ask nothing in return, excepting a true confidence in her own simple & fervent character. To like me & to place faith in me, is all I could ever expect.

Yours very truly | A.A. Lovelace

P.S. My only remaining lurking timidity respecting you, is lest I should appear as if determined to force myself on you. But I think that the spirit in which I am acting & feeling about you must be clear to you.

If, after knowing enough of me, you found that I did but add to the claims & fatigues already existing, I should withdraw as willingly as I now press our intimacy. But it is my belief that I could add to your peace & comfort, & lessen your anxieties.

How easy & natural does it appear to me to write to you! I shall be in danger of being very free & very voluminous in my communications.

Endorsed by Faraday: 1844