John Tyndall to Faraday   30 June 1854

June 30th, 1854

My dear Prof Faraday

It is just three quarters of an hour to bed time and I think you will not call me imprudent if, as a sedative to my thoughts, I employ this interval in writing to you. You have kindly asked after my health¹ - Though not robust it is still in a sound condition - My face is pale as usual, but it would be hasty to infer from this that there is any thing radically wrong with me. Dr Bence Jones once hinted to me that he thought I might be consumptive. I smiled inwardly at the time, for it brought to my mind a similar remark made by others who when they knew me better came round to the opposite opinion. The fact is, there is greater toughness in these attenuated muscles of mine than many give me credit for, and it has often been my lot in mere physical exertion to weary out men of far greater promise. I do intend however to give myself three weeks holiday. Francis and I have arranged a trip into Wales together and thence to Liverpool to the British Association. This will endow me with an amount of vigour sufficient to cope with the requirements of our next campaign. I have been for the last week endeavouring to decide a point or two in magnetism and have got myself into a labyrinth of difficulties; sometimes in the deepest intellectual darkness, relieved now and then by a gleam which cheers a man on to renewed effort. I often think that the qualities which go to constitute a good christian are those most essential to a man of science, and that above all things it is necessary for him to become as “a little child.”² But how apt is a man to forget this docile spirit:- how apt to rise disaffected and unhappy from his task when he has failed to confirm some foregone conclusion on which he has set his heart:- And then again in the midst of all his discontent a still small voice³ seems to reason with him and like the harp of David acting upon Saul drives away the evil spirit from his heart and makes him once more fresh and hopeful⁴. I have found myself, even recently, converted from a miserable, complaining, rebellious wretch, into a loyal and happy worker in less time than it has taken me to write this sentence. A thought has rifted and scattered the cloud of discontent as the wind disperses the mist upon the hills.

I wish I could hear you say that you were more than “moderately well” and that Mrs Faraday was more than moderately strong, and I do trust that the fresh breezes of the cozy little spot at which you now reside will increase the strength of both of you. Your last letter is to me in many respects more precious than ‘much fine gold’, but I have found difficulty in interpreting one phrase - [“]Though I despond as for myself” - I can only account for it on the supposition that nothing short of infinitude can satisfy the soul of man. When I look at the intellectual conquest which lies at your feet, and which, as I heard Verdet⁵ say last autumn in Paris, stands unequalled since the time of Newton⁶, the attitude which presents itself to my mind as the natural one is that of a warrior who, after the day’s successful conflict, wipes his iron bow and looks with tranquil satisfaction upon the spoils of victory. With regard to my own feelings in the matter I can only say that the ejaculation of Baalam [sic] would express the asperation of my soul “Let me die the death of such a worker”!⁷

They are still plying me with missives from the Society of Arts. Were I to undertake all they request of me my whole time would be scarcely sufficient for them. Dr Lotham⁸ has written requesting me to give a lecture pointing out the connexion of physics with chemistry, on the one side, and with mathematics on the other. Of course I have been compelled to decline it. A Mr Michall⁹ wrote requesting me to come and help him on Friday and Saturday to arrange some philosophical apparatus. He writes as if he thought he had nothing to do but to ask me; but notwithstanding this, lest they should consider my persistent refusals illnatured, I have consented to go down to them for a couple of hours tomorrow. A few days ago Dr Bence Jones came into the laboratory and told me that the time for voting the grants by the Royal Society had just arrived. I applied on Friday last for 50 or 100 pounds - On Wednesday evening I met Sabine at Col Yorke’s¹⁰ and he informed me that they had given me the 100 - It is very kind of them¹¹.

My candles are now burnt out and wishing you and Mrs Faraday good night, I end my scroll by subscribing myself

Most faithfully Yours | John Tyndall