ite a hatred to my old one.

LETTER 26. TO J.S. HENSLOW. Down [April 1st, 1848.]

Thank you for your note and giving me a chance of seeing you in town;
but it was out of my power to take advantage of it, for I had previously
arranged to go up to London on Monday. I should have much enjoyed
seeing you. Thanks also for your address (26/1. An introductory lecture
delivered in March 1848 at the first meeting of a Society "for giving
instructions to the working classes in Ipswich in various branches of
science, and more especially in natural history" ("Memoir of the Rev.
J.S. Henslow," by Leonard Jenyns, page 150.), which I like very much.
The anecdote about Whewell and the tides I had utterly forgotten; I
believe it is near enough to the truth. I rather demur to one sentence
of yours--viz., "However delightful any scientific pursuit may be, yet,
if it should be wholly unapplied, it is of no more use than building
castles in the air." Would not your hearers infer from this that the
practical use of each scientific discovery ought to be immediate and
obvious to make it worthy of admiration? What a beautiful instance
chloroform is of a discovery made from purely scientific researches,
afterwards coming almost by chance into practical use! For myself I
would, however, take higher ground, for I believe there exists, and I
feel within me, an instinct for truth, or knowledge or discovery, of
something of the same nature as the instinct of virtue, and that our
having such an instinct is reason enough for scientific researches
without any practical results ever ensuing from them. You will wonder
what makes me run on so, but I have been working very hard for the last
eighteen months on the anatomy, etc., of the Cirripedia (on which I
shall publish a monograph), and some of my friends laugh at me, and I
fear the study of the Cirripedia will ever remain "wholly unapplied,"
and yet I feel that such study is better than castle-building.

LETTER 27. TO J.D. HOOKER, at Dr. Falconer's, Botanic Garden, Calcutta.
Down, May 10th, 1848.

I was indeed delighted to see your handwriting; but I felt almost sorry
when I beheld how long a letter you had written. I know that you are
indomitable in work, but remember how precious your time is, and do not
waste it on your friends, however much pleasure you may give them. Such
a letter would have cost me half-a-day's work. How capitally you seem
going on! I do envy you the sight of all the gloriou