From Thomas Archer Hirst   Nov. 30th, 1851

Marburg, Nov. 30^th, 1851.

My dear John –

It is Sunday Evening (7-30) outside, a miserable night, cold, dirty splashy, rainy and snowy all at once, inside however it is as warm and cheery as my black companion the stove can make it, (you might consider it too warm) I did wash myself all over when I got out of bed and also pulled on my breeches and ‘Schlafrock’,¹ but the day was not tempting enough to make me further decorate myself with the appendages of silk handkerchief, clean collar etc. etc. I intended to solve a somewhat stiff Integral first thing and then spend the rest of the day in preparing a packet of letters for England, aforesaid Integral however would not solve as readily as I anticipated, it was obstinate nettled me, and I determined to sit it out. I did so and hatched, or was delivered of, a solution at about 4 P.M. Then came M^r Wrightson, stuck fast in a puddle, in the shape of a simple equation with three unknown terms,² he had kicked about in his puddle & made it terribly muddy, & it took us until 6 P.M. before we had emptied it and got a sight of the bottom.

Thus has the day flown and the English Packet must wait another week. By a strange coincidence I read at Breakfast this morning the following sentence in Montaigne³ which reminded me to answer your last⁴ and thank you for one of the most prized letters you ever sent me. Hear my old friend ‘A man had need have long Ears to hear himself frankly censured.⁵ There are few who can bear to hear it without being nettled, and those who hazard the undertaking it to us, manifest a singular effect of Friendship; for ‘tis to love sincerely indeed, to attempt to hurt and offend us for our own good. I think it rude to censure a man whose ill qualities are more than his good ones’.⁶ Such would have been my reply had Montaigne not helped me to it, and so I can conscientiously use it. Amongst the mass of the usual smooth penned epistles that reach me yours was a reality, not flat and stale, but fresh if somewhat pungent. I will not deny that at first I was somewhat ‘nettled’ as Montaigne has it, and if you had said as much to me face to face should perhaps have shewed that I was nettled & answered accordingly. But all the stinging properties of my nettle vanished at a second perusal when I felt that the various indictments against me were but too just, and in my heart I thanked God that he had given me a friend who dare tell me my failures & to whom I could willingly listen. – I had many misgivings that the cement and plaster work you discovered in my poor translations were but too visible, I felt myself unable at the time I sent you them to decide whether they had a value or not, hence I sent them to you instead of to Clayton well knowing that the rubbish might stand a chance of being detected and detained at Queenwood. Keep them there John. They have served their purpose, and profited me far more than if they had appeared in the Leaders columns.⁷ I do not grudge a moment that was spent on them. The Blunder in the Diver⁸ is inexcusable, and yet, strange to say I accused Schiller of a lame conclusion to a beautiful ballad without detecting (stupid) that ‘Den Jungling’ in the last line

Den Jungling bringt keines wieder.⁹

was accusative and not nominative, and the lame conclusion my fault and not his. – Much as I deserve kicking for this I will not plead guilty to others of your allegations Namely about the musical ear. I believe there to be as great an excess possible in good (syllabic) Rhythm as in bad. It is well known that far from harmonious chords (viz exact thirds & fifths &c) constituting harmony, or music, that discords are absolutely necessary. I plead not for any particular instance I know well that ‘short’ & ‘thought’ ‘echo’ and ‘they grew’ as far as syllables are concerned do not rhyme, but I question whether if I had it to do again I would go far in search for better, they do not convey a sensation of pain to the most sensitive ear when the whole forgoing & following chords are struck symultaneously, like I have often heard you do on my piano you have struck upon two isolated keys, inharmonious when so thumped on alone but capable of administering to true harmony when in their proper combination. I grant to you that if one uses rhyme one ought to do it well, but would humbly add thereto that

Tweedledum tweedledum fiddledidee | Although passible rhythm may not music be.

To the insinuation about the bass fiddle¹⁰ also I protest firmly. God made you sensitive to a musical thought, for which be thankful, he also gave you an ear for the music of the Auditorium. Knoblauchs Acoustics¹¹ to wit, but he knew you would desecrate a bass fiddle and he therefore kept it out of your reach. After this slight retort on my part, which is not so much an exoneration of myself as a protest against the ability of my judge, I again pull in my horns & confess you have once more pricked me in a soft place, viz my spelling. Your advice is good and shall be looked to, I had already found it necessary often to use my dictionary & what you say proves to me that I err not only in doubtful words for which I always use my dictionary but that the habit has so far got hold of me that I pass over errors unquestioned. It shall be looked to. – ¹²

RI MS JT/1/H/164