My dear Darwin

You will be surprised by the package which accompanies this—the account of which I will give you at once. One of my daughters was staying some months since at Sydney Dobells in Gloucestershire—² who shewed her a collection of Butterflies & Moths arranged in a Book preserved as you see the enclosed. They are done by a M^r Merrin—an Entomologist at Gloucester, who hopes to introduce them into Schools &c.³

M^r Merrin, hearing that I was a connexion of yours, begged that I would be the means of sending these preserved B.^s to you,—the great desire of his heart being that he should have the honour and glory of presenting them for your approbation.

I told him I would take care you had them, & here they are. The plan is ingenious and answers sufficiently for practical purposes, but alas! the poor Butterflies lose a sad deal of their lustre & beauty in the process. I know nothing whatever of the man, but hear he has published some small works on Entomology.

You will have made him a happy man by accepting them, & they will not burden you by their bulk.

I felt glad of the occurrence as I had been wishful to write to you for some time past but had no particular excuse for doing so.

It is now long since I have heard of you, & I sh^d much like a few lines from M^rs Darwin or yourself, telling me (as I hope) that you are in better health, and that M^rs Darwin & your family are well. Tell me also how Caroline⁴ is. I should so like to see her & you again. If I go to London this Summer, I shall certainly try to do so.

I am now a regular resident here, having given up Delamere Altogether. I hoped to have met with some Naturalists in the Island, but have not done so at present.⁵

I have outlived almost all my old Isle of Wight friends—& entirely my Naturalist ones.

It was a wrench to leave my o⁠⟨⁠l⁠⟩⁠d parsonage where I had spent ⁠⟨⁠35⁠⟩⁠ happy years, but I felt it right any way.

Here I have been busy in doing what you did at Down—not building a house—but making Gardens &c out of the most unpromising materials I ever had to do with. After buying every potato &c—I have now atchieved a good Kitchen Garden with lots of all Vegetables & a good deal of fruit, & in another year shall look tolerably civilised. Your good Father & Susan & Catherine so often come into my mind when in my Garden.⁶

I have got all my old furniture— & remembrances about me, and am very busy and happy. I find old age encreeping upon me, however, more rapidly than I expected. I had looked for its approaches more gradually, but it comes by leaps—and I believe if I live another couple of years I shall be quite an old man.

I am in my 70^th year—does it not seem strange how old we get (you are however younger than me)–but it seems but a few years since we were lads together. You have worked so hard & gone thro’ so much bad health, that it probably does not seem so to you—the worst of it is with me that— while I lack the power of youth— I feel in myself as young & foolish as ever I was. It seems to me as if at my age—one dwells upon the far past—& the deep future—far more than the present.

But I shall weary you out with my scribbling. I have been delighted with Sir John Lubbocks Thysanura in Ray S^y. It seems to me a most wonderful Book to come from a man known as he is—as a Philosopher, Politician & Banker. The world in general cannot understand how such a mind can care about silver fishes, as they are commonly called—about the most contemptible & least cared for of the infinitely small.⁷ He is somewhat like what has been said of the Elephants proboscis— able to root up trees & pick up a needle.

Is your son still a Banker at Southampton & if so what is his Firm there.⁸ I sometimes meditate going over there, & if I did, should much like to see him.

Do you intend publishing a work containing the Sum total of your gatherings— as I think you once did, or are you contented to leave them scattered thro’ your various Vols?

I imagine you have got so into the habit of real work that it is as necessary to you as Idleness seems to me.

That you may have encreased health & many years to work in is the sincere wish of your old & attached Friend W. D. Fox | Kindest regards to M^rs Darwin from my Wife & self.

PS. | Do you remember Brachinus crepitans; and our delight on finding it.⁹ I have never seen it since those glorious days, until my Boy¹⁰ brought in some a week since, as much pleased as we were with it—& as much surprised— They fired away most wonderfully. I dont think they have practised any improvement in Gunnery.

This reminds me of poor little Albert Way. I had no idea when my friend Lady [Natherton] told me she was going to the South of France to help to nurse a friends Husband—that Way was the man—until I saw ⁠⟨⁠  ⁠⟩⁠ death lately.¹¹

You probably have often met him— I never have since we three gloried over Panagæus Crux Major—¹² Those were days— & I always rejoice over them when I see the old specimens— & think of Henslow¹³ &c &c.