To Jack Tidmarsh   24th February 1861¹

24th February 1861

Dear Tidmarsh

Some men appear to have a memory for names and dates, some for places, some for mere forms, and some for all. I think I am defective except in the case of forms. I can easily remember a human countenance, and before I looked at the conclusion of your letter² I knew by the writing from what hand it had come. You call to my mind many things which had been almost washed away by other memories. I had totally forgotten Ferguson Street,³ and to my shame be it spoken ‘the lady of the raven plume’⁴ also. Even the memory of our discussions had faded almost to a blank. But your letter revives them all, and shows that behind my conscious memory lay an unconscious one.

You mention Ginty⁵—It is quite an age since I heard from him. He is now in the service of the Emperor of Brazil, and is, I believe, pushing his fortunes prosperously. His wife was in London two or three years ago, and his children are now being educated in this country. He stands I believe very high in the estimation of the emperor and his ministers; Mrs Ginty indeed informed me that his majesty sometimes does Ginty the honour of visiting him, and taking tea at his house.

Of the other men whom we used to know in former days I am in absolute ignorance, with one exception. That is Higginson.⁶ He was for a long time stationed at the camp at Aldershot, where I visited him. He has often called to see me in London, and he is now stationed at Shorncliffe near Folkestone, being captain in the 16th Regt. He suffered much from illness in the East, and is a little bald—With this exception he looks young and hearty.

Hirst⁷ is living quite close to me. After he had finished his articles with Carter⁸ he went to Germany and remained for some years at the Universities of Marburg and Berlin. He married some years ago, but soon afterwards his wife showed signs of consumption. He took her to various parts of the Continent, in vain; and she died in Paris in the summer of 1857. I chanced to be in Paris at the time, and accompanied him to her grave. He afterwards spent much time in France and Italy, and is now first mathematical master in University College School, London.

Last summer I paid a visit for the first time to the Lake of Killarney. The weather was on the whole atrociously bad, but it could not quite disguise the extreme loveliness of the region. When well illuminated I do not think that I ever saw any thing fairer than those lakes. They seem to me to beat the English and Scotch ones in point of tenderness, and I have seen nothing in Switzerland to excel them in point of softness, though of course in grandeur they fall far behind the scenery of the Alps. On my return I paid Cork a visit. Climbed up Patrick’s Hill, saw the barracks—wandered through the whole town. Some of it I had clearly retained, but some of it had been utterly washed away from my recollection. I could not fix the position of your house though I knew it was in Great George’s Street.

The intellectual life of London sometimes puts a severe strain upon the mind, but on the whole I enjoy my life here extremely. I am fortunate enough to reckon the best and most distinguished men of England among my personal friends, and my work is a source of perennial delight to me. I am compelled to devote a portion of the year to bread and butter considerations, but a good portion of it is devoted purely to scientific investigation. I take an annual scamper to Switzerland and set up my health among the snowy mountains. Thus the stream of life flows on, hurrying pleasantly enough towards that ocean which all individual streamlets tend, and with which they are all ultimately to mingle.

Believe me dear Tidmarsh | Yours most sincerely | John Tyndall

I had forgotten the photograph—thanks for it. If I could get a handsome one of myself I would return the favour—but that is hardly to be hoped for.

RI MS JT/1/TYP/11/3872–3

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