To Thomas Archer Hirst

My dear Tom,

A dim impression of your last letter¹ rests upon my mind and from this I must endeavour to reply to it; for the letter itself lies in the deep recess of one of the pockets of my laboratory coat. You spoke of coming to London – If I am master of these lodgings I shall have them well prepared for your reception, but this is not probable – In fact I have for some time thought of moving nearer to the Institution, and as I shall be leaving London some time in June I thought of separating from my present lodgings at the same time. However of this we may talk again.

A new element of confusion appears to have made itself manifest at Queenwood. The thought occurred to me that if Edmondson² is so absurd as to do what he talks of you ought yourself to try and make some arrangement with Pare & Finch, and undertake the direction of the establishment – I would of course help you to the utmost extent of my power and you might use my name as that of your cooperator. But I hope Edmondson is not going to dash out his own unfortunate little brains – poor man, he has taught me more, notwithstanding his profound shallowness, than any other man in this world. He is to me a key to ten thousand larger phenomena of social and political life.

As for his ‘confidence’ I hope you can afford to be indifferent about it – his ‘confidence’! – there is no such thing. He is incapable of feeling it, and merely blabs about his concerns when he must to do so, to screen or extenuate his own folly. If you thought it well I would write to him upon the subject of his proposed move.

I wrote to Debus some time ago³ asking him to accompany me to Normandy, he has not yet replied to me. Could not you & Anna come? The place is so lovely, and you could spend your vacation there just as cheaply as in England. I hope Debus at all events will come; I promise myself a glorious fortnight or three weeks there.

Last Sunday I spent at Richmond with Francis and felt the benefit of the holiday throughout the week. It is now Sunday again and the glorious sun is shining and beckoning me outward – I’ll go immediately great Sol!⁴ – Just let me say two words to Tom & then I’m with you.

Faraday gave us a most pleasant lecture on Friday night⁵ – he lectured instead of Hofmann who ought to have lectured,⁶ but who is so absorbed in money grubbing that he could not come. By robbery & intrigue I am told this fellow manages to suck an income of 12 or 14 hundred a year⁷ out of England. I come on next Friday and hope to give them at least a pleasant lecture.⁸

DuBois lectured yesterday⁹ – the day was warm, the people drowsy and the experiments all unsuccessful. His two last lectures were not so good as his earlier ones, and he has evidently had enough of the work to satisfy him. The subject in fact is hardly sufficient to fill 8 lectures and illustrate them so as to keep the interest of our multifarious audience alive.

I cling to the notion of animal electricity which I ventured to express to you some time ago. A few easy experiments have recently occurred to me which will probably throw much light upon some portions of the subject. I dare not make them while DuBois is here but will do so afterwards, and communicate to him the result – It may be in his favour, but this I at present doubt.

I was at Lord Ashburton’s a few evenings ago¹⁰ & experienced much friendliness from many of those present. Once while talking to a gentleman whom I know not but who was introduced to me by Lord Ashburton, Cardwell,¹¹ the expresident of the Board of Trade came near me – He looked kindly in my face, took my hand and squeezed it cordially – So that although I refused his offer of Jermyn Street¹² he has not lost his respect for me. But the man who interested me most was a hairy faced individual, who was pointed out to me just before we separated – he talked sometimes with those present – and sometimes walked up & down looking at the splendid paintings alone – It was Thomas Carlyle.¹³ I looked deeply into his countenance as he was putting on his coat to go away. His eyes appeared sad and beautiful to me – not a low complaining sadness, but the sadness of one who while he mourned the follies of men had his own high trust and consolations. There were many other notabilities present, Sir Robert Peel¹⁴ – a fine young fellow – and his brother Frederick,¹⁵ Lord Elgin,¹⁶ the Duc D’Aumale,¹⁷ &c &c.

Next evening I was at a soirée given by Weld at Somerset House,¹⁸ and saw Tennyson there – I did not speak to him. He entered the room, walked straight forward through his arm out and seeing the hand of a friend greeted him with a rough how do you do! – He has a fine head; and there is something uncompromising and thorough about the fellows appearance that makes a man long to exchange a shock with him.

Now I will end my rigmarole – Sylvester sends me the following note¹⁹ it is characteristic of the man:–

‘I expect the profound Carlyle, the Sagacious Latham and the myriad minded Buckle to dine with me on Monday next the 28^th. Inst. at 7 o’clock. Will you do me the favour of enabling me to add the name of the acute & philosophic Tyndall to the list?’

J. T.

I have lain on my back on the sofa this glorious morn and read Emerson’s Essay on the poet.²⁰ But the Church Bells are ringing and my friend Sol is impatient – give my love to Anna – she asks me have I seen Beta²¹ lately – alas! alas! It was ever thus –

‘The fairest things the shortest stay

Peep at J. T. then start away’

Like 50 others (not one less) the thought of her has been swept off by the tide of other thoughts which ebbs & flows everlastingly in this doomed existence of mine. Good bye.│Affectionately│John

27^th May 1855

RI MS JT/1/T/602