My dear Darwin

Here we are past midwinter, and, not being stimulated as of old by your exciting letters, I have not written you a line since Christmas.¹ Not that I have had anything in particular to tell you. I write now to say how very sorry I am that the word or two I get about you from Hooker, gives me the idea that you are having a uncomfortable and suffering time, as well as entirely broken off from scientific work.² I feel very sorry about it, and do long for better news of you. We can sympathise with you all the more from what my wife has undergone, with a most detestable stomach.³ Soon after Christmas it got complicated with a bad liver, and what not, and laid her up for a month or two, most of the time in bed, and a sad time we have had of it. She is now convalescent, however, tho’ still feeble. This trouble, which certainly was all brewed in the digestive organs, upset her head completely, with giddiness and pain, and manifold discomfort upon any exertion, even simple listening to reading, let alone reading herself. I have a notion you suffer much in the same way. And as she is slowly throwing it off, so I trust will you, please Providence, and that soon.

I have lately printed a couple of monographs—one pretty big one, of American Astragali.⁴ I do not know that they contain anything you would care to see. Yet I think I shall send you a copy, presently, through Hooker.⁵

I feel much the loss of dear old Boott⁶—so good, so true a friend, and he was always writing me little notes, telling me of all that was going on.

The sentiment of our country, you must see—at least I assure you—has settled—as I knew it would if the rebellion was obstinate enough—into a determination to do away with Slavery. Homely, honest, ungainly Lincoln is the representative man of the country.⁷

A Boston gentleman,⁸ at cost of $11,000 or more, is to build a fire-proof house for my herbarium—which I give to the University, with my botanical Library. A fund of $12000 is raising to support it—which will relieve me of the expenditure of about $500 a year. But, I shall have double care and bother all the coming spring and summer.⁹

D^r. Scudder has gone to Cuba—to attend an invalid and wishes to examine orchid-fertilization, and asks me what in particular he should look at.¹⁰

Pray, get well, dear Darwin, and believe me to be ever Yours cordially | Asa Gray