Stuk 48 - Letter from Mary Morland to The Rev. Professor Buckland

1 letter

To The Rev. Professor Buckland
Post Office
Inverary
Scotland

Sheepstead
July 15 [1824?]

Write in detail and on Foolscap if you have time, I do not wait for any answers

My dear Sir,

It gave me sincere pleasure to hear that your Party promised to well, and I trust that the sea may now cease to be Ipecacuanha to you and that you may have every enjoyment possible in your Scottish excursion. To be sure three months is a long time to look forward to your absence and, I miss you very much already, but it would be the extreme of selfishness to wish you anywhere than on the spot where you are now - there seems to be an ample field laid open to you in Scotland, and I anticipate your doing great things there while you are traversing the Sea and the Land and contemplating Nature in her wildest and most imposing attire pursuing enquiries so highly interesting to yourself and to science. I am employed in tying up flowers and killing snails - the comparison makes me appear somewhat contemptible in my own eyes and, I could almost wish myself a man - but, were I one of the Lords instead of the Ladies of Creation I might probably have been envious and jealous of your fame and success whereas they now afford me the highest gratification so that I believe matters are better as they are. I only wish that among those nearest and dearest to me I could find some Companion in my noble pursuit of gardening and snail destroying, but, Alas! I fear they are not [?] to it, as old Isaac Walton says of a man who does love fishing. I have tried to make all my sisters from the biggest to the last take some sort of interest in these things but in vain and, in the midst of a large family, I live in solitude as far as lies in community of pursuits and occupations. I often fear I shall grow absolutely stupid, if it were not for your society [occurs?] to rub up my Intellects I think I should, nevertheless, it is a mortifying fact that I always feel conscious of being particularly dull and flat in your presence - this dullness appears to be extending itself into my letters but it is unavoidable , for I have not the least interesting matter to communicate to you. Mr [Tuckwell?] dined here last week to see Lady [Pegge?] but he told no Oxford news worth relating. I have not yet heard when I am to go into [Sussex?] I wish you had seen the Aylings on your [road?] hope you will see more of Dr. Chalmers [hole in page] Did you ever read his Sermons? On the Impiety of Modern Philosophy? I believe he alludes more particularly to Geology. I mean to the fanciful theories put forth concerning that science. Mr [?] orations lie before me speaking of the neglect of spiritual things among the higher classes of society, he says "The [rocks] from promintory residences among the clouds to their deep rests in the dark bowels of the Earth, have a most bold and [venturous] priesthood who see in them rough and flinty, faces a more delectable image to adore than in the [?] countenance of God happily your Geology has been turned to a better account that do deserve [?] such a censure. I hope you mean to give me a series of Scottishrock specimens of your own collecting - I would suggest the plan of your keeping the corner of a box for my exclusive use, or I shall get none for you have left me with a single stump of an [Elysenses?] tooth by way of "Specimens found of Kirkdale" Pray don't use me so shabbily again for I want to keep up my small geological collection -
I think as soon as you have filled a little box you had better send it off to me at once - I find the books you were so kind as to send me on shells very useful. Did I tell you that Mrs. Duffield's governess who is so perfectly acquainted with Italian has taken me in hand and I am making good progress in the language, so that the next time you give me an Italian letter to translate I shall be au fait in the matter. I am very sorry the bone was broken - I acknowledge my unskilled packing, however, remember this is the first accident that ever befel the numerous bones which have for years journeyed to and fro, in Mr. [Chees's?] cart. Being come to the end of my paper I have only to say God Bless You - the oftener you can write, the oftener will you give pleasure to yours

Most truly

M.M.

Sheepstead