CONCORD, April 25, 1858.
DEAR SIR,--Your unexpected gift of pear trees reached me yesterday in
good condition, and I spent the afternoon in giving them a good
setting out; but I fear that this cold weather may hurt them. However,
I am inclined to think they are insured, since you have looked on
them. It makes one's mouth water to read their names only. From what I
hear of the extent of your bounty, if a reasonable part of the trees
succeed, this transplanting will make a new era for Concord to date
from.
Mine must be a lucky star, for day before yesterday I received a box
of mayflowers from Brattleboro, and yesterday morning your pear trees,
and at evening a hummingbird's nest from Worcester. This looks like
fairy housekeeping.
I discovered two new plants in Concord last winter, the Labrador tea
(_Ledum latifolium_), and yew (_Taxis baccata_).
By the way, in January I communicated with Dr. Durkee, whose report on
glow-worms I sent you, and it appeared, as I expected, that he (and by
his account Agassiz, Gould, Jackson, and others to whom he showed
them) did not consider them a distinct species, but a variety of the
common, or _Lampyris noctiluca_, some of which you got in Lincoln.
Durkee, at least, has never seen the last. I told him that I had no
doubt about their being a distinct species. His, however, were
luminous throughout every part of the body, as those which you sent me
were not, while I had them.
Is nature as full of vigor to your eyes as ever, or do you detect some
falling off at last? Is the mystery of the hog's bristle cleared up,
and with it that of our life? It is the question, to the exclusion of
every other interest.
I am sorry to hear of the burning of your woods, but, thank Heaven,
your great ponds and your sea cannot be burnt. I love to think of your
warm, sandy wood-roads, and your breezy island out in the sea. What a
prospect you can get every morning from the hilltop east of your
house![85] I think that even the heathen that I am could say, or
sing, or dance, morning prayers there of some kind.
Please remember me to Mrs. Watson, and to the rest of your family who
are helping the sun shine yonder.
* * * * *
Of his habits in mountain-climbing, Channing says:[86] "He ascended
such hills as Monadnoc by his own path; would lay down his map on the
summit and draw a line to the point he proposed to visit
below,--perhaps forty miles away on the landscape, and set off bravely
to make the 'short-cut.' The lowland people wondered to see him
scaling the heights as if he had lost his way, or at his jumping over
their cow-yard fences,--asking if he had fallen from the clouds. In a
walk like this he always carried his umbrella; and on this Monadnoc
trip, when about a mile from the station [in Troy, N. H.], a torrent
of rain came down; without the umbrella his books, blankets, maps, and
provisions would all have been spoiled, or the morning lost by delay.
On the mountain there being a thick, soaking fog, the first object was
to camp and make tea. He spent five nights in camp, having built
another hut, to get varied views. Flowers, birds, lichens, and the
rocks were carefully examined, all parts of the mountain were visited,
and as accurate a map as could be made by pocket compass was
carefully sketched and drawn out, in the five days spent there,--with
notes of the striking aerial phenomena, incidents of travel and
natural history. The outlook across the valley over to Wachusett, with
its thunder-storms and battles in the cloud; the farmers' back-yards
in Jaffrey, where the family cotton can be seen bleaching on the
grass, but no trace of the pigmy family; the dry, soft air all night,
the lack of dew in the morning; the want of water,--a pint being a
good deal,--these, and similar things make up some part of such an
excursion."
The Monadnock excursion above mentioned began June 3d, and continued
three days. It inspired Thoreau to take a longer mountain tour with
his neighbor and friend Edward Hoar, to which these letters relate,
giving the ways and means of the journey,--a memorable one to all
concerned.