CONCORD, December 25, 1855.
FRIEND RICKETSON,--Though you have not shown your face here, I trust
that you did not interpret my last note to my disadvantage. I remember
that, among other things, I wished to break it to you, that, owing to
engagements, I should not be able to show you so much attention as I
could wish, or as you had shown to me. How we did scour over the
country! I hope your horse will live as long as one which I hear just
died in the south of France at the age of forty. Yet I had no doubt
you would get quite enough of me. Do not give it up so easily. The old
house is still empty, and Hosmer is easy to treat with.
Channing was here about ten days ago. I told him of my visit to you,
and that he too must go and see you and your country.[66] This may
have suggested his writing to you.
That island lodge, especially for some weeks in a summer, and new
explorations in your vicinity, are certainly very alluring; but _such
are my engagements to myself_, that I dare not promise to wend your
way, but will for the present only heartily thank you for your kind
and generous offer. When my vacation comes, then look out.
My legs have grown considerably stronger, and that is all that ails
me.
But I wish now above all to inform you,--though I suppose you will not
be particularly interested,--that Cholmondeley has gone to the Crimea,
"a complete soldier," with a design, when he returns, if he ever
returns, to buy a cottage in the South of England, and tempt me over;
but that, before going, he busied himself in buying, and has caused to
be forwarded to me by Chapman, a royal gift, in the shape of
twenty-one distinct works (one in nine volumes,--forty-four volumes in
all), almost exclusively relating to ancient Hindoo literature, and
scarcely one of them to be bought in America.[67] I am familiar with
many of them, and know how to prize them. I send you information of
this as I might of the birth of a child.
Please remember me to all your family.
* * * * *
On the date of Thoreau's letter of December 25, 1855, another event
occurred, of some note in these annals of friendship. Channing, from
his Dorchester abode, suddenly showed himself at Ricketson's door. "I
had just written his name when old Ranger announced him.... He arrived
on Christmas day" (as Thoreau had done the year before) "and his first
salutation on meeting me at the front door of my house was, 'That's
your shanty,' pointing towards it. He is engaged with the editor of
the N. B. _Mercury_, and boards in town, but whereabout I have not yet
[February 26, 1856] discovered. He usually spends Saturday and a part
of Sunday with me." In replying to this information, Thoreau gives
that admirable character of his poet neighbor which has often been
quoted.