John Tyndall | 2nd, January, 1864.
My dear Miss Roche
I rise every morning before day dawn, and work by lamplight in order to cope with the heavy duties which I have at present to perform. But my first act this morning must be to express to you the deep sorrow with which I have heard of the untimely loss of your nephew.12 Believe me I sympathise with you; I wish I could in any way lighten your grief, but save the sharing of it, this, I fear, is beyond my power. There seems a fatality in these things, and looking back upon my own life, and the “hairbreath escapes” which I have had, makes me wonder that I am here to deplore the loss of another. The inevitable however must be borne, and the best way of meeting such calamity is by the performance of our duties; not to brood, or sorrow too much over what cannot be revoked; but to do the duties which still remain to us. Thus met, time soon softens sorrow and often leaves us all the better for having had to endure it.
But I am a poor hand in dealing with matters so tender as the present one—all I can say is that I partake of your sorrow, and would do a great deal to lessen your affliction in the least degree.
Believe me dear Miss Roche | Yours most truly | John Tyndall
RI MS JT/1/TYP/11/3852–3
LT Typescript Only
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