Log Search Results

  Martial Miles tells me of a snapping turtle caught in the river at Waltham, about October 1st, he thinks, which weighed fifty-five pounds (?). He saw it. There were two fighting . . . (Journal, 11:335-338).

  1 see, on the southwest or railroad side, near top, of Emerson’s hill, a great many oak stumps (which were sprouts) with the older stump still very plain . . . (Journal, 14:253-255).

  For inspecting the Stone Bridge on the main stream & reporting on its condition.

Recd Payt
H. D. Thoreau

  Soon after sunrise I saw the pyramidal shadow of the mountain reaching quite across the State . . .

  Agreeable to me is the scent of the, withered and decaying leaves and pads, pontedcrias, on each side as I paddle up the river this still cloudy day, with the faint twittering or chirping of a sparrow still amid the bare button-bushes. It is the scent of the year . . .

  It is always a recommendation to me to know that a man has ever been poor, has been regularly born into this world, knows the language. I require to be assured of certain philosophers that they have once been barefooted, footsore, have eaten a crust because they had nothing better, and know what sweetness resides in it . . .

  The river-banks have now assumed almost their November aspect. The button-bushes are nearly bare. The water is smooth, the sun warm, and the reflections particularly fine and distinct . . .

  I wish to thank you again for those books. They are the nucleus of my library. I wrote to you on the receipt of them last winter, (directing as now) but not having heard from you, do not know in what part of the world this may find you. Several here are enquiring if you have returned to England, as you had just started for the Crimea at the last account. The books have long been shelved in cases of my own construction made partly of the driftwood of our river. They are the admiration of all beholders. Alcott and Emerson, besides myself, have been cracking some of the nuts.

  Certainly I shall never pay you for them. Of those new to me the Rig Veda is the most savory that I have yet tasted. As primitive poetry, I think as any extant. Indeed all the Pedantic literature is priceless. There they stand occuping two shelves, headed by Froissart, stretching round Egypt and India “Ultima Thule,” as a fit conclusion. What a world of variety. I shall browse there for some winters to come. Whole was has given place to pece on your side, perhaps a more serious war still is breaking out here. I see to hear its disant mutterings, though it may be ong before the bolt will fall in our midst. There has not been anything which you could call union between the North and South in this country for many years, and there cannot be so long as slavery is in the way. I only wish that Northern—that any men—were better material, or that I for one had more skill to deal with them; that the north had more spirit and would settle the question at once, and here instead of struggling feebly and protractedly away of on the plains of Kansas. They are on the eye of a Presidential election, as perhaps you know. and all good people are praying that of the three candidates, Fremont may be the man; but in my opinion the issue is quite doubtful. As far as I have observed, the worst man stands the best chance in this country. But as for politics, what I most admire now-a-days, is not the regular governments but the irregular primitive ones, like the Vigilance committee in California and even the free state men in Kansas. They are the most divine.—I have just taken a run up country, as I did with you once, only a little farther, this time; to the Connecticut river in New Hampshire, where I saw Alcott, King of men. He is among those who ask after you, and takes a special interest in the oriental books He cannot say enough about them. “And then that he should send you a library! Think if it!”

  I am sorry that I can give but a poor account of myself. I got “run down” they say, more than a year ago, and have not yet got fairly up again, It has not touched my spirits however, for they are as indifferently tough, as sluggishly resilient, as a dried fungus. I would it were the kind called punk; that they might catch and retain some heavenly spark. I dwell as much aloof from society as ever: find it just as impossible to agree in opinion with the most intelligent of my neighbors; they not having improved one jot, nor I either. I am still immersed in nature, have much of the time a living sense of the breadth of the field on whose verge I dwell. The great west and north west stretching on infinitely far and frand and wild, qualifying all out thoughts. That is the only America I know. I prize this western reserve chiefly for its intellectual value. That is the road to new life and freedom,—if ever we are dissatisfied with this and not to exile as in Siberia and knowing this, one need not travel it. That great northwest where several of our shrubs, fruitness here, retain and mature their fruits properly.

  I am pleased to think of you in that England, where we all seem to have originated, or at least sojourned which Emerson values so much, but which I know so little about. That island seems as full of good things as a nut is of meat: and I trust that it still is sound nut without mould or worm. I hope that by this time you are settled in your mind and satisfactorily employed there.

  My father mother and sister send their best wishes, and would he glad to see you in this country again. We are all quite anxious to hear that you are safe and sound : I in particular hope that you are in all respects unscathed by the battle of life, ready for still worthier encounters.

Yours,

H. D. T.