no young writer
so likely to rival your new American school. I sent your gift-books
of Hawthorne, yesterday, to the Walters of Bearwood, who had never
heard of them! Tell him that I have had the honor of poking him into
the den of the Times, the only civilized place in England where they
were barbarous enough not to be acquainted with "The Scarlet
Letter." I wonder what they'll think of it. It will make them stare.
They come to see me, for it is full two months since I have been in
the pony-chaise. I was low, if you remember, when you were here, but
thought myself getting better, was getting better. About Christmas,
very damp weather came on, or rather very wet weather, and the damp
seized my knee and ankles and brought back such an attack of
rheumatism that I cannot stand upright, walk quite double, and am
often obliged to be lifted from step to step up stairs. My medical
adviser (a very clever man) says that I shall get much better when
warm weather comes, but for weeks and weeks we have had east-winds
and frost. No violets, no primroses, no token of spring. A little
flock of ewes and lambs, with a pretty boy commonly holding a lamb
in his arms, who drives his flock to water at the pond opposite my
window, is the only thing that gives token of the season. I am quite
mortified at this on your account, for April, in general a month of
great beauty here, will be as desolate as winter. Nevertheless you
must come and see me, you and Mr. and Mrs. Bennoch, and perhaps you
can continue to stay a day or two, or to come more than once. I want
to see as much of you as I can, and I must change much, if I be in
any condition to go to London, even upon the only condition on which
I ever do go, that is, into lodgings, for I never stay anywhere; and
if I were to go, even to one dear and warm-hearted friend, I should
affront the very many other friends whose invitations I have refused
for so many years. I hope to get at Mr. Kingsley; but I have seen
little of him this winter. We are five miles asunder; his wife has
been ill; and my fear of an open carriage, or rather the medical
injunction not to enter one, has been a most insuperable objection.
We are, as we both said, summer neighbors. However, I will try that
you should see him. He is well worth knowing. Thank you about Mr.
Blackstone. He is wort