To Thomas Archer Hirst   Sat. Nov. 11. 1848

Sat. Nov. 11. 1848

My dear Boys,

However far the conclusion of this epistle may dip into the future, and it is impossible to define the precise extent of it in this respect, a beginning has been made on the afternoon of Saturday November 11^th 1848. I saw Tom¹ at Leeds and Jemmy² doubtless received my note³ from London. Since then I have been in the dark, be mine the task to throw a little torchlight on my proceedings since.

We⁴ had a rough passage from London to Rotterdam, the usual time is I believe about 24 hours, we however contrived to spend two days and two nights on the deep, during the first night we rode quietly at anchor the horizon looming as black as pitch, and every thing boding a tempest. next morning we found ourselves surrounded by vessels like our own seeking shelter. large masses of floating wreck hinted that the tempest had not been perfectly harmless, however it was only of a nights duration and next day we stood out to sea, all that day we ploughed along and towards 10 oC at night the steward recommended me to take a little brandy and to go to bed. I took his advice, swallowed half a glass of brandy and stood up, no further movement was required on my part, the attraction of gravitation did the rest. the vessel gave a lurch and I was pitched forward into the sleeping cabin, where I devoutly fell upon my knees and delivered up the brandy with immense interest. I went to bed but such another night I hope I shall never spend, sleep was out of the question, my head, hips and shoulders were hammered mercilessly against the mahogany sides of my berth, had I not been made of tough materials I should doubtless have been shaken to pieces.

On the morning of Friday the 20^th Oct. we reached Rotterdam took the train to the Hague and stopped there a few hours, returned to Rotterdam and got lost amid the bewilderments of canals, drawbridges, wharfs and shipping – thanks to a young Dutchman who could speak French we got to our Lodging – we had even forgotten the name of the street or what is more likely found it unpronounceable –

On Saturday morning at 6 oC we entered the river steamer a fine vessel with an elegantly furnished saloon. It is usual I believe for tourists to travel by Railway from Rotterdam to Bonn and thus save themselves a journey of about 200 miles along the river where the banks are flat and the scenery insipid – there is something noble however in a fine broad river irrespective of the fringe of land it which binds it, the sun shone by day and the stars by night while the waters rolled calmly along, with fishingboats creeping up and down its edges and stretches of pebbled beach contrasted with the bright green verdure of the fields on either side – The dinner on board would turn John the Baptist into an epicure – it was too good, – irresistible in fact – Boiled beef, sausages, fish, cauliflower, fried potatoes, roast pork, apple sauce, pudding, roast veal, roast goose chesnuts &c &c – these dishes duly classified came in, course after course, tempting the palate long after the stomach was satisfied.

At 5 oC on Sunday we reached Dusselldorf in the neighbourhood of which is Rheydt⁵ the dwelling place of Kuppers.⁶ we had two or three hours to spare so had the pleasure of hearing a gorgeous mass in the cathedral – a forest of candles flamed about the altar, the light from which was reflected by numberless figures of saints and winged angels in polished brass, amid this scene the priest stood like a necromancer half obscured by the fume of incense, he raised the host, a little bell tinkled and the whole congregation fell down and worshipped – On monday morning at 4 oC reached Cologne and having two hours to spare sallied forth to see the cathedral. after some searching we found it, the gloom of its immense aisles was rendered ‘visible’ by the light of a few small candles stuck here and there at intervals, early as it was an old priest with snow white hair and deep sepulchral voice was saying mass, while a scanty congregation of superior saints or superior sinners devoutly responded to his orisons – verily this thing of religion however in its outward manifestations it may be twisted and tortured by circumstances finds a root in human nature which is deeper than all sensuous experience and lies below our modern Science of logic – true it is that circumstances may instigate it, may call it in a particular manner outwardly forth, but it has more to do with the creation of circumstances than circumstances have to do with its creation – in good truth they have nothing at all to do with it.

As I know Tom is fond of this subject let me say a word or two more on the matter. To argue logically with an irreligious man in favour of religion is idle in the extreme – I do not use the term irreligious in the sense immoral, but merely as applicable to those who reject all knowledge, all life, of a higher character than that derived through the medium of the senses – you could never by force of logic convince M^cArthur,⁷ nay, should you make the attempt it would indicate on your part a state of mind which would infallibly make you the convert instead of him – If a man possess only four senses you cannot possibly bring the fifth within the domain of his reasoning – my figure is defective for in the nonreligious man the fifth sense is latent not unpossessed – Such a sense as far as mere human agency is concerned can only be awakened by contact with a religious man – you may chop logic till doomsday – a single fervent word fresh from the heart of a religious man will find a response where bushels of syllogisms are unavailing – let your words be living words not dead chaff and the chances are that they will bear fruit unto a higher life.

But to return – At Bohn⁸ the Rhine begins to assume a character which it has not heretofore possessed. you suddenly dive into a country of strongly marked character, stiff precipices and towering basaltic hills rise around. within a few miles of Bohn and on the left hand side as you go up stands the ‘castled crag of Drachenfels’⁹ mentioned by Byron in Childe Harold – the country around it is indescribably lovely – Byron wrote truly –

The river nobly foams and flows –

The charm of this enchanted ground,

And all its thousand turns disclose

Some fresher beauty varying round

The haughtiest breast its wish might bound

Through life to dwell delighted here

Nor could a spot on earth be found

To nature and to me so dear

Could thy dear eyes in following mine

Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine¹⁰

Though not in absolute need of his Lordships complementary blessedness still I could appreciate his feelings.

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There the castle stands however like a sky pillar perched upon a wild stormy looking pedestal – on the opposite side of the river is ‘a noble arch in proud decay’¹¹ while the foliage and vineyards clothing the hills to their very summits were of the richest autumnal colours.– Thro scenery such as this we travelled two days – the river bank all along presenting evidences of tremendous volcanic agency – I often wished to take a stick in my hand and wander as free as a red deer through the mountains.

On the evening of Tuesday the 24^th we reached Mayence¹² – thence the same night by train to Frankfort¹³ where I remained that night – next day by an omnibus to Marburg where I arrived at 8 oC P.M. it being precisely 8 days since my departure from London.

I am now a student¹⁴ – I work tolerably hard – up at 5 oC every morning – work at German until 7½, breakfast, from 8 to 9 a lecture on Physics – 9 to 10 Professor Bunsen on Chemistry – 4 to 5 a private lesson from the professor of mathematics¹⁵ – I could not possibly be better suited than I am – the day I spend in the laboratory have tea at 6 oC and study mathematics until 10 at which hour I punctually go to bed – I’m not likely to get fat on this work for so far I have stood it very well. before I seal this I must endeavour to say a few words on chemistry, as by this time you will have got Fresenius.¹⁶ I now halt.

I find myself so busy that I must defer the chemistry until I next write – could you manage to let old M^rs Piercy and my young friends¹⁷ see this letter or tell them something about it, and when you write let me know how they are. really they are as kind to me as if I was a son or a brother.

You and Tid,¹⁸ John R.¹⁹ & Ginty might club together, you can each send a [little] almost as cheaply as one

Good bye now my sons and may the good Gods be your protectors

ever yours affectionately | J Tyndall

I promised John Richardson that you would send him this to read, this will save me the repetition of the scroll which would be no joke

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