To Thomas Henry Huxley   9th May 1852

Queenwood 9^th May 1852.

My dear Huxley

It is said that every son of Adam has some spark of poetic sentiment in him, and that what distinguishes the poet proper from other men is the faculty of being able to tell you what he and all feel. Were I a poet (and I know not whether to upbraid or bless the gods for not making me one) I should sit down with delight to gather from birds and blossoms their prettiest imagery, and from the May its sunshine and odours into one sweet bouquet to present to you. There is a portion of human nature which is agreeably tickled when an honour is conferred – your letter¹ contributed to this result, but not to this alone – the pleasure which I derived from it was composite and the largest item in the mixture, the item which tinted all others with its own particular radiance, was the fact of your having written to me as you did. I will not further compare the pleasure imparted by the intelligence with that derived from its manner of communication, but I will say that the united effect of both was to awake in me a charivari² of as pleasant thoughts and feelings as it has ever been my lot to experience I hope the day may come when I shall be able to reciprocate your kindness – the gods know how joyfully I would do so if I could.

believe me dear Huxley | most faithfully & truly yours | John Tyndall

Henry Huxley³ Esq^re | &c. &c. &c.

IC HP 1.2