I am of course very glad to hear that you have no objection to letting me have the benefit of consulting your notes.
Most observers are in a frantic hurry to publish their work, but what you say about your own feelings seems to me very characteristic. Like the bees, you ought to have some one to take the honey, when you make it to give to the world—not, however, that I want to play the part of a thieving wasp. I will send you my manuscript about instinct (or the proofs when out), and you can strike out anything that you would rather publish yourself.
I shall not be able to begin my book till after the jelly-fish season is over. This will be in September or October; but I will let you know when I want to read up about instinct.
With very many thanks, I remain, yours very sincerely and most respectfully,
Geo. J. Romanes.
The Palace, Dublin: August 17, 1878.
Your letter and enclosure about the geese arrived the day after I left Dunskaith, but have been forwarded here, which accounts for my delay in answering, for I only arrived in Dublin a few days ago.
I am sorry to hear about the onions, and can only quote the beatitude which is particularly applicable to a worker in science, Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall not be disappointed.
But I am still more sorry to hear of your feeling knocked up. I meet your son here, who tells me about you.