[226] could see the hills of Berkshire, and the green shade which embowers the railroad between Pittsfield and Springfield; then the valley of the Connecticut,—at least, as far as Northampton, a lovely village. But Catskill and West Point are better worth seeing even than all these.Ever affectionately yours,
To Lord Morpeth.
Boston, Oct. 1, 1842.my dear Morpeth,—As long as I could, I observed you on the taffrail of the ‘Great Western,’ and then moved away, melancholy and slow. Lieber and Sedgwick dined with me at the Astor; and we consoled ourselves for your departure by speaking of your virtues, and of our love for you. In the evening, I took up my solitary journey to Boston, where I arrived in season for Webster's speech.1 The hall was crowded to suffocation. Webster looked like Coriolanus: he seemed to scorn while he addressed the people. His speech was unamiable, but powerful and effective. I send it herewith, that you may judge for yourself. It will cause a good deal of confusion among the Whigs, and will irritate Mr. Clay and his friends. When he came to speak of Clay's favorite measure,--the Compromise Act,—he drew from the bitterest fountains. He forbore to speak of the motives of its framer; ‘for the motives of all public men are to be supposed to be-pure.’ He lashed with an iron flail the recent Whig Convention in Massachusetts, over which Abbott Lawrence presided, which nominated Clay for President. The speech was not received with any warmth. The applause seemed to be led off by some claqueurs, or fuglemen, and in rapture and spontaneousness was very unlike the echoes which he has excited in the same hall at other times. We are all uncertain still whether he means to resign. Some of his friends construe passages of the speech in favor of resignation, and others contrariwise. I should rather infer that he meant to stay. The steamer sails very soon, and I must close. Let this hasty note congratulate you on your arrival in the bosom of your family and friends; and believe me now,As ever, affectionately yours,
P. S. Judge Story has just called. He sends his warmest regards, and regrets very much that he could not see you again.
To Henry W. Longfellow, London.
Boston, Oct. 15, 1842.dear Henry,—Will this pass you on the wave, or meet you in London? We are all earnest to see you again, and to join with you in converse. You
