From Hector Tyndale   March 31st 1855

Philadelphia March 31st 1855

Dear John

Lies are much like curses, with the same domestic propensities or, otherwise, I might make use of one now, and with a ‘violent, indignant cry’ demand why you have not replied to my last,¹ announcing the safe arrival of your humble servant at home? This would be a ‘safe dodge’ too, for mails do miscarry, and I could thus have an object and a subject at the same time. But – Honour! Honour! Above all things Honour! But in good truth I had intended to write – and so contented myself with the intention. Besides this I knew you to be much occupied and blessed withal with a high sense of duty, which would perhaps impel you to write whether pleasant & convenient or not. And so I lapsed a little deeper into my lazy-pride mood and did not write. But I can’t afford, my dear John, to have you quite forget me and so I hope you won’t, like a good fellow as you are – always ‘barrin’ the choleric grumpus.² And thus humbly I force myself between you and the image of that ‘lone and lovely maiden. Whom the angels call Lenore’³ (!) soliciting a slight token of remembrance. But away with stilts cousin and let us stand up and shake hands. How are you? And how have you been this thundering long time? Let us hear all about it and you.

As I have said above I have had many a strong desire to write to you, but I refrained from two motives, one being that I knew you really very much occupied and the other – Oh shame – the longest and strongest fit of laziness I ever had. I have written to no one except ‘upon compulsion’ since my return.

I have received two or three papers from you⁴ and they served me as a broomstick serves a witch to ride off upon into air. But a good stout horse in the shape of a letter would have been still more pleasant to me to amble on. Now mind I don’t object to the sticks at all, on the contrary I like them much, but once in a while send me also a good cob! But don’t ‘cob’⁵ me too hard though for you know my tender points and can lay it on heavy when you try. What a lot of trash I have scribbled – but, I don’t know why, the Isle of Wight always comes to me when I think of you and off I go following your wild antics on the downs!⁶ And after all it is no wonder for sick as I was, after my arrival from Paris,⁷ that short excursion began a change which has been going on ever since. In truth I was very sick, more sick than I seemed and have suffered more or less ever since. I don’t know what it was, but it seemed as a general prostration of cheerfulness and a setting up of gloominess instead. I am not over sweet at any time, but I got a thorough acidulation⁸ in France – how I can’t tell. And so perhaps was more unpleasant than common. But let that go – much of it did go upon the free winds we met on that dear little island.

And now having thrown off a good deal of the egotism with which one should always welcome a friend (!) I come to some serious matters.

What are you doing, firstly as John? That is, how is your health and how are you enjoying yourself and in what state are you generally? Do let me know something of you, the man of you, the good hearty man, the real poetical man of you. Pray is there nothing you ought to have told me before this? What are your dreams made of? What about that ‘rare and radiant maiden’ – I hope not dead and buried maiden – ‘whom the angels call Lenore’? Have you no other life than your chrystal life there in Albermarle Street?⁹ Is there no other thing than Bismuth with its labyrinthine forms in which you might lose yourself?¹⁰ Is there no other axis than the magnetic? Is there no other current than that of electricity? Are there no other roads in which you delight to roam than electrodes? Finally is there no other counter magnetism than diamagnetism and no other affinity than chemical affinities? Lastly are you in no other way dissolved than as a salt is – with so many equivalents? And conclusively is there no other efflorescence for you than that of exuding whatever the surrounding atmosphere may ask for? My dear fellow rouse up, fly up, right up through the skylight in that workshop of yours. Unfold your wings, ruffle your feathers, shake off the dust of accumulated facts and soar straight up to the centre of yourself. And when you are there let me hear your voice coming down to me cheerfully and cheeringly.

And now secondly what are your professional labours, towards what inclining now? You have sent me, as I have said, two or three papers which I read with interest, but have you no papers of your own, or any product or result of your labour to send me. You may, perhaps, think that I care little or nothing for such things, but if so you err. I may not understand thoroughly as a scientific man would do, but nevertheless all such things have an interest for me and had I not been otherwise engaged might perhaps have turned a constant attention to them. At any rate whenever you may have any publication of your own or any other in which you take an interest you may remember, if you please, that I shall always receive them not only for their worth but as evidences of your remembrance and esteem. Come now that last sentence is pretty good ‘genteel begging’. Hey?

And so far I have rattled away without saying anything and by the way I suppose it will be the same to the end hereof. I found all our family, the whole of the noble race of Tyndale, very hearty, as hearty as though they were common folks! And so they remain until this day.

Your daguerreotype¹¹ has been seen by every one of the family. I was about to say it was seen by ‘admiring thousands’ – but as I started out to tell the truth, and nothing else, I can’t say that. I leave to your vanity and insight the settling of the word, the adjective or the noun (or both) as the word I cannot utter truly! My dear John the Spring is coming on us slowly slowly it is true, but I sniff the green grass, yet under the ground, I feel in the rude winds once in a while the warm kiss of the summer air. Through the rapid flying grey clouds I catch a point of the deep blue Summer sky. In the rushing of the March winds I hear anticipated the whisperings of the green velvet leaves, and sometimes a liquid note from a coming spring bird sweetens the air. In short with something of the feelings of a gay colt in young clover I have run on through this letter and perhaps from the same cause, and that cause unknown to both – but I will guess at it – the green-ness of the pasture!

April 2^d

I left off writing from the fear of offending you. On reading it over I find it so foolishly absurd that I would tear it up, but that I would not have time to write again very soon, and bad as it is I leave it to your good nature to pardon and – reply. It is very strange how sometimes one is struck with an accidental word and the whole course of life is thereby influenced from that time. Like a ship on the great wide ocean meeting a lone iceberg, on all the seas perhaps the only one afloat, she strikes and sinks, or perhaps more fortunately may only make for the nearest port no matter where that may be. I have thought often of this and some day, it may happen, I will tell to you how sailing one fair summer’s day I met with such a berg and had in consequence to put up my helm for another haven! Only when that haven may be reached, in all probability never, I will tax you with the tale! Have you no inclination to visit us (U.S.) here? It is true to a small extent, that remark of your home-sick friend,¹² ‘the men are all sallow and the women all tallow’¹³ (or yallow I forget which). But still life is somewhat rosy-hued even here; and we try to content ourselves in this small country place. Come over and see us once, not expecting great things, but simply new ones, of combinations of elements not yet classified, that is all. This latter part of my letter you may think as absurd as the first, but you will still pardon if you do not read.

All our family desire their regards to ‘Cousin John’. Make my kindest remembrances to Dr Francis, to old Mr Taylor & his daughter,¹⁴ to Mr Debus & my thanks & remembrances to all your good friends in Hampshire.¹⁵

I am John very truly & affectionately yours | Hector Tyndale

RI MS JT/1/T/46