My dear Fox

When I sent off the glacier paper,¹ I was just going out & had no time to write— I hope your friend will enjoy (& I wish you were going there with him) his tour, as much as I did— it was a kind of geological novel, but your friend must have patience for he will not get a good glacial eye for a few days. Murchison & Count Keyserling² rushed through North Wales the same autumn & could see nothing except the effects of rain trickling over the rocks! I cross-examined Murchison a little & evidently saw he had looked carefully at nothing. I feel certain about the glacier-effects in N. Wales.—

We are all well here, that is fairly well for such wretches, as we. Emma will be confined this month.—³ What glorious weather— Saturday felt as hot to me, as ever did the Brazils.—

Get up your steam, if this weather lasts, & have a ramble in Wales— its glorious scenery must do every one’s heart & body good.— I wish I had energy to come to Delamere & go with you; but as you observe, you might as well ask St. Paulls. Whenever I give myself a trip, it shall be, I think, to Scotland to hunt for more parallel roads.

My marine theory for these roads was for a time knocked on the head by Agassiz ice-work—but it is now reviving again.— I dont mean, that I ever doubted, but others did (even Lyell for a time became a catastrophist) & they have now gone back to the elevation theory. The contrast between the valleys of N. Wales, which have had all their rubbish & detritus swept out by the glaciers & those of Scotland, from which the sea has slowly retired, is very striking.—

We have had a visit of some weeks from Elizabeth Wedgwood, & I think the change has done her good after her incessant nursing of her father.

Farewell— we are getting nearly finished—almost all the workmen gone & the gravel laying down on the walks— Ave Maria how the money does go— there are twice as many temptations to extravagance in the country compared with London.—

Adios | Yours | C. Darwin