Faraday to John Tyndall   1 August 1864

Hampton Court, | 1 Aug. 1864.

My dear Tyndall,

I do not know whether my letter will catch you, but I will risk it, though feeling very unfit to communicate with a man whose life is as vivid and active as yours; but the receipt of your kind letter¹ makes me to know that, though I forget, I am not forgotten, and though I am not able to remember at the end of a line what was at the beginning of it, the imperfect marks will convey some sense to you of what I long to say. We had heard of your illness through Miss Moore, and I was therefore very glad to learn that you are now quite well. Do not run too many risks, or make your happiness depend too much upon dangers, or the hunting of them. Sometimes the very thinking of you and what you may be about wearies me with fears, and then the cogitations pause and change, but without giving me rest. I know that much of this depends upon my own worn out nature, and I do not know why I write it, save that when I write to you, I cannot help thinking it, and the thoughts stand in the way of other matters.

We are progressing in the cleaning at the R.I.², and I hope you will find things there all right presently. Mr. Barrett’s letter I have left for him, according to your instructions. Mr. Lubbock was enquiring for your address a few days ago³, but I could not give him any, and now I conclude he knows it. I am so forgetful that I am afraid to write to him from here, for I have no other address for him, save that of the list of members. I think I shall send him your letter to me as the information.

See what a strange desultory epistle I am writing you, and yet I feel so weary that I long to leave my desk and go to the couch.

My dear wife and Jane desire their kindest remembrances. I hear them in the next room, but even they weary me - for I forget - but not you, my dear Tyndall, for I am

Ever yours, | M. Faraday