October 14.

I left this place for a week’s trip to Liverpool in the end of September.  The meeting of the British Association was held there, but I went not so much to be present as to meet Forbes, with whom I wanted to talk over many matters concerning us both.  Forbes had a proposition that I should go to Edinburgh to take part of the duties of the Professor of Physiology there, who is in bad health, with the ultimate aim of succeeding to the chair.  It was a tempting offer made in a flattering manner, and presenting a prospect of considerably better emolument than my special post, but it had the disadvantage of being but an uncertain position.  Had I accepted, I should have been at the mercy of the actual Professor—­and that is a position I don’t like standing in, even with the best of men, and had he died or resigned at any time the Scotch chairs are so disposed of that there would have been nothing like a certainty of my getting the post, so I definitely declined—­I hope wisely.

After some talk, Forbes agreed with my view of the case, so he is off to Edinburgh, and I shall go off to London.  I hope to remain there for my life long.

[He had long felt that London gave the best opportunities for a scientific career, and it was on his advice that Tyndall had left Queenwood College for the Royal Institution, where he was elected Professor of Natural Philosophy in 1853:—­]

6 Upper York Place, St. John’s Wood, February 25, 1853.

My dear Tyndall,

Having rushed into more responsibility than I wotted of, I have been ruminating and taking counsel what advice to give you.  When I wrote I hardly knew what kind of work you had in your present office, but Francis has since enlightened me.  I thought you had more leisure.  One thing is very clear—­you must come out of that.  Your Pegasus is quite out of place ploughing.  You are using yourself up in work that comes to nothing, and so far as I can see cannot be worse off.

Now what are your prospects?  Why, as I told you before, you have made a succes here and must profit by it.  The other night your name was mentioned at the Philosophical Club (the most influential scientific body in London) with great praise.  Gassiot, who has great influence, said in so many words, “you had made your fortune,” and I frankly tell you I believe so too, if you can only get over the next three years.  So you see that quoad position, like Quintus Curtius, there is a “fine opening” ready for you, only mind you don’t spoil it by any of your horrid modesty.

So much for glory—­now for economics.  I have been trying to ferret out more nearly your chances of a post, and here are my results (which, I need not tell you, must be kept to yourself).

At the Museum in Jermyn Street, Playfair, Forbes, Percy and I think Sir Henry would do anything to get you, and eliminate —­; but, so far as I can judge, the probability of his going is so small that it is not worth your while to reckon upon it.  Nevertheless it may be comforting to you to know that in case of anything happening these men will help you tooth and nail.  Cultivate Playfair when you have a chance—­he is a good fellow, wishes you well, has great influence, and will have more.  Entre nous, he has just got a new and important post under Government.