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Chapter 24: Slavery and the law of nations.—1842.—Age, 31.
Questions of international law, growing out of the institution of Slavery in the
United States, supplied the first topics, in the discussion of which
Sumner participated after his return from
Europe.
These related to the right of search as exercised by the
British Government in the suppression of the slave-trade, and to the nature and validity of a master's claim to a slave when asserted on the high seas, in the port of a foreign power, or anywhere outside of the jurisdiction of the municipal law which sanctions his ownership.
The right of search, unless specially conceded by treaty, is a purely belligerent right, and does not exist in time of peace.
By the treaty of 1841, known as the Quintuple Treaty, between Great Britain, Austria, Prussia, and Russia, the slave-trade was declared piracy, and a mutual right of search given.
France, acting under the influence of Mr. Cass and Mr. Wheaton, refused to ratify it. The slave-traders often hoisted the American flag in order to protect themselves from search and capture.
Great Britain asserted the right to stop vessels flying the American colors under circumstances which justified a strong suspicion that they were engaged in the slave-trade, and that, though carrying our flag, they were in fact English or of one of the nations which had conceded the right of capture.
She disclaimed the right to seize the vessel if found to be American, although engaged in the traffic, and limited the asserted right to one of mere inquiry for the purpose of verifying nationality.
This qualified right of search, or of inquiry,as he preferred to call it, Sumner maintained in two elaborate articles, both filling five and a half columns, and printed in the Boston Advertiser.1 They reply at length to the positions taken by Mr. Stevenson, the American Minister, in his correspondence with the British Foreign
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Secretary.
The second is a rejoinder to an article of Mr. Perkins, of Salem, who, in a communication to the same newspaper, had reviewed Sumner's first article.2
Mr. Webster, in his subsequent correspondence as Secretary of State, contended strongly against the asserted right of visit and inquiry, whether as a right of search or as a more limited right of inquiry for verifying nationality;3 and publicists generally are in accord with him.4 The Treaty of Washington, which he negotiated, provided, however, for naval co-operation in the suppression of the slave-trade.
The right of visit and inquiry claimed by Great Britain was afterwards practically waived.
When, however, there came an earnest purpose on the part of our Government to suppress the slave-trade, the right to search and seize vessels suspected of being engaged in the traffic was mutually accorded by the treaty between Great Britain and the United States, April 2, 1862, negotiated by Lord Lyons and Mr. Seward.5
Chancellor Kent wrote, Jan. 7, 1842:—
I thank you for the Boston paper containing your view of the question of the “Right of search on the coast of Africa.”
I have no hesitation in subscribing to it as entirely sound, logical, and conclusive.
There is no doubt of it; and the neatness and elegance with which it is written are delightful.
Judge Story wrote, Feb. 6:—
I am glad to know that Mr. Prescott and Chancellor Kent approve of your article on the “Right of search.”
It confirms my previous opinion of its intrinsic soundness.
I do not exactly know whether Mr. Webster and Mr. Legare concur in its doctrines, but I shall be surprised if they do not.
He wrote as to the second article, Feb. 20—
I go along with you throughout.
This last article is written with a close logic and lawyer-like precision; or rather, I should say, with the comprehensive grasp of a publicist dealing with the general law of nations, and not with the municipal doctrines of a particular country.
Letters approving his view came also from Rufus Choate and Theodore Sedgwick.
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The peculiar character of slave ownership as against common right, and existing only under positive municipal law, became at this time the subject of earnest discussion.
While the brig Creole, an American merchant vessel, was on her voyage, in 1841, from Hampton Roads to New Orleans, with one hundred and thirty-five slaves on board, a part of them rose in mutiny, killed a passenger who was the reputed owner of some of the slaves, wounded a number of the officers and crew, and having obtained complete possession of the vessel, carried her into the English port of Nassau.
The slaves were there liberated, although some were held for a while under arrest for the assaults.
There was a question as to the extent to which the colonial authorities interfered to effect their liberation, positive and officious interference being alleged on the one side and denied on the other.
The affair was presented to the attention of the British Government by a formal letter addressed by Mr. Webster, then Secretary of State, to Mr. Stevenson, our Minister in London.
The Secretary contended that the ‘Creole,’ being engaged in a perfectly lawful voyage, and taken by mutineers into a foreign port, her officers were entitled by the comity of nations, while at such port, to the aid of the Government in whose jurisdiction the port is situated in maintaining their authority, and should be protected from any interference with the relations and statusof persons on board existing under the laws of the United States. Mr. Webster, during the negotiations of the Treaty of Washington, again pressed this view.6 While confining the controversy to the case of a vessel driven by maritime disaster or carried by unlawful force into a foreign port, his argument in spirit and effect went further.
He illustrated the relation of master and slave by the analogies of husband and wife and of parent and child, and carefully refrained from stating its peculiar and abnormal character as against common right, existing only by positive law, and not entitled to any recognition outside the exclusive jurisdiction of such law. This pretension, which he maintained with his accustomed power, belongs to a period when the spirit of slavery dominated in our Government.
Lord Ashburton, while declining to include the question in the negotiation
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of the Treaty of Washington, expressed his surprise at some of Mr. Webster's propositions.
Dr. Channing, whose moral insight saw their direction, wrote at once his pamphlet, entitled ‘The Duty of the Free States,’ in which he complained that Mr. Webster's letter to Mr. Stevenson ‘maintained morally unsound and pernicious doctrines, and was fitted to deprave the public mind, and tended to commit the Free States to the defence and support of slavery.’
‘The plain inference is,’ he said, ‘that the Government of the United States is bound to spread a shield over American slavery abroad as well as at home.’
He read his paper while in manuscript to Sumner, Hillard, and William F. Channing (the doctor's son), the three young men being with him in his library, and noting points for consideration as he read.
Sumner made various suggestions, particularly on the legal points of the controversy.
In connection with Hillard he revised the proofs, proposing several changes in letters written to the author, who, in May and June, 1842, was passing some weeks in Pennsylvania.7
Sumner's great interest in the ‘Creole’ question is noted by Mr. Ticknor, who names him as the only person he met, who was vehement against Mr. Webster's letter.8 It appears also in his vigorous letters, written at the time, to Mr. Harvey and Dr. Lieber.
He replied in the ‘Advertiser’ to some legal criticisms which a correspondent of that journal had made on Dr. Channing's pamphlet.9 In this reply, he said:—
It would ill accord with the spirit of English law to allow the liberty of a human being to be restrained by the meshes of technicalities like those woven by the writer in the “Advertiser.”
The single vigorous principle that within the British Empire no right of property can exist in a human being extends like a flaming sword around all its courts and territories, cutting asunder the bonds of every slave who approaches English earth.
Not only his participation in these legal discussions, but also his correspondence, in which he warmly commends the career of
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John Quincy Adams in Congress, and expresses his delight in Longfellow's Anti-slavery poems, show that his convictions and sympathies on this great question were already fully developed.
It will be noted with what emphasis and iteration he insisted at this period on the purely local and exceptional character of Slavery, as entitled to no quarter where it does not have the sanction of positive law,—a doctrine which, ten years later, gave the key-note to his first Anti-slavery speech in the Senate, entitled ‘Freedom National, Slavery Sectional.’
As yet, however, he dealt with public affairs as thinker and writer, rather than as organizer and agitator.
Mrs. Maria Weston Chapman urged him, in the autumn of 1842, to enter on a more distinct cooperation with the Abolitionists; but his time for such public activities had not yet come.
He had been for several years a subscriber for their organ,—the ‘Liberator,’—attended their annual Anti-slavery Fairs in Boston, and maintained friendly relations with their leaders,—manifestations of sympathy and goodfellowship which disturbed some of his conservative friends.10
A brief reference to Sumner's view of the relations of our Government to Slavery may well be given in this connection, although a complete statement would be premature.
The term ‘Abolitionist,’ so far as its etymology is concerned, designated all who were in favor of direct moral and political action against Slavery; but, in the party nomenclature of this period, it was applied in a narrower sense to those who, like Mr. Garrison, regarded the National Constitution as a pro-slavery instrument,— ‘a covenant with death, and an agreement with hell.’11 They therefore refused to vote under it, and insisted on the dissolution of the Union.
Sumner, while sympathizing with their moral purpose, disapproved their methods.
The Constitution, as he read it, and as he thought the Fathers meant it, was a charter of human rights; and the Union, as he saw it, was intended to be, and could be made, the very bulwark of Freedom for all within its borders.
The idea that it was wrong to vote under our Constitution, he thought fanciful,—maintaining that, if carried out logically, it involved a withdrawal from the country; and that the duty of a citizen under our written Constitution did not differ from that of a
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citizen living under any bad government, in whose reformation he ought to assist by speech and vote.
The demand for the dissolution of the Union was calculated to array the conservative thought and the national sentiment of the country against the Anti-slavery movement,—potent allies, which he thought essential to its success.
The philanthropist, the patriot whose heart yearned for a country wholly free, whatever were his political relations, might well have preferred so grave a calamity even as the severance of the Union to the perpetual existence of Slavery in any part of it. But to one with Sumner's hopeful views of human progress there was no such dread alternative; and he believed from the first in the sure triumph of Freedom under the Constitution, and by the power of the Union.
Notwithstanding these differences in opinion and action, he had never any controversy with the ‘Abolitionists.’
They usually treated him with exceptional good — will and confidence; and if any dealt harshly with him, he made no public answer,— simply saying to any one who called his attention to their criticisms: ‘We are all striving for the same end,—they in their way, and I in mine; and I can have no controversy with them.’
His view of the policy of the ‘Abolitionists’ is shown in a letter he wrote April 9, 1850, in reply to a friend who justified his own opposition to the Anti-slavery movement by urging their violent language:—
I have read the “Liberator” more or less, since 1835.
It was the first paper I ever subscribed for.12 I did it in the sincerity of my early opposition to Slavery.
I have never been satisfied with its tone.
I have been openly opposed to the doctrines on the Union and the Constitution which it has advocated for several years.
It has seemed to me often vindictive, bitter, and unchristian.
But let me say, frankly, that I have never seen any thing in that paper at any time so vindictive, bitter, and unchristian as your note.
You beat Garrison.
Sumner, at this time, watched with genuine interest Dr. Howe's work for the blind; the movement for popular education which Horace Mann was directing; and the agitation for an improved prison discipline,—without, however, enlisting in any public debate on either topic.
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Besides his discussion of the Slavery question arising under international law, his only published article, during the year 1842, was a review of Professor Greenleaf's treatise on the ‘Law of Evidence,’ then first issued.13 In the early part of the year he taught in the Law School as Judge Story's substitute.
His social life varied this year little from what it had been during the two preceding.
In the spring he visited New York with Prescott,—their special errand being to meet Washington Irving.
In January he had many pleasant interviews with Dickens, who brought a letter to him from John Kenyon, and who was grateful for his kindness.14 Late in August he met Lord Ashburton, who was then in Boston, and visited with him places of interest in the city and suburbs.
With Lord Morpeth, who was journeying in various parts of the country, he continued his correspondence.
Morpeth sailed on his return Sept. 29.
Sumner passed the last five days in New York with him,—sharing in the hospitalities extended to him, and lingering on the wharf while the vessel which bore home his much-loved friend steamed down the harbor.
During this year he greatly missed Longfellow, who, in search of health, made a six months visit to Europe,—extending from April to November.
Dr. Channing died in October.
To Sumner this was a personal loss; for, during the year, he had been brought into closer relations than before with this divine, and felt more than ever the power of his moral nature.
He saw in his death, too, a far wider bereavement than falls to family and friends,—that of the causes of freedom and peace, which, at an exigent season, could ill spare a chief so fearless and so strong in public confidence.
He little thought then that to himself was yet to fall so much of the work which Channing left behind; and to the dying philanthropist the assurance might well have been given,
Another hand thy sword shall wield,
Another hand the standard wave,
Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed
The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.
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Letters.
Jan. 5, 1842.
This morning, dear
Lieber, comes to hand your note of
Christmas.
The best English paper published only once a week, incomparably, is the ‘Spectator.’
This will keep you
au courantof the politics, the court, the gossip, the literature of
England, with tolerable notes about the Continent.
It is radical and democratic, but independent and thorough,—serving no party or section of men. The debates of Parliament are presented in an abridged form.
The literary notices are more various, complete, and spirited than those of any other journal.
The ‘Examiner’ is clever, but lacks fulness and completeness.
With that, you would miss much that you will find in the ‘Spectator.’
Indeed, you will be surprised at the amount of matter stowed into that weekly journal.
I have seen Howe, who speaks of you and your wife so as to please my heart.
He is very grateful for your kindness to him in aiding his plans, and in receiving him and his under your roof.
Last evening, I saw Mrs. B. and F. A. In the corner of a supper-room we talked of you and Mrs. Lieber.
I reported to their glad souls the tidings brought by Howe.
Miss F. told me that her sister had received a delightful letter from you, in which you overflow on sculpture.
Let us hear from you. You see how many friends are pleased by news of you.
I cannot agree with you or John Quincy Adams, with regard to the China war. I think it justifiable, but not on your grounds.
It is justifiable, because the English representative was maltreated, and forced to flee from the factories; because English subjects have been cruelly used,—their ears cut off, and stuffed down their throats; because English merchants have been falsely and oppressively dealt with.
The Chinese were justified in demanding the opium, and burning it; and this act of itself would not form a ground of war,—nor would it be even an igniting spark.
I am at a loss to see how Mr. Adams can invoke Christianity as a cloak for such a principle as he lays down.
Much as policy and the feelings of our social nature may dictate to nations commercial intercourse, I cannot find in the law of nations, as expressed in the writings of publicists and deduced from the practice of the world, any rule which would authorize the scourginga State into the circle of nations.
If it chooses to be a hermit, and live on its own springs and the fruits of its own soil, we cannot interfere.
It is churlish and barbarian; but we cannot impose our Christian yoke upon them.
What is the ceremony of the Kow-tow,which J. Q. A. treats as the cause of the war, but a court ceremony,—peculiar, indeed, but in the same class with the obeisance to the Grand Lama, and the requisition of the Russian and English courts that an American minister should appear in a court-dress, or some other uniform?
Mr. Dallas, in his black coat, was refused an audience of the Russian Emperor.
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In point of principle, this was as great an insult to the representative of a people not accustomed to any such form at home, nor recognizing it as essential under their institutions, as Lord Macartney's prostration before the Emperor of China.
But we do not talk of war with Russia!
I have always thought that our ministers ought to refuse to wear any uniform at a foreign court.
Our high officers wear none at home; nor is it necessary that any citizen, or other person, native or foreign, should assume one in approaching the President.
I should not wish to get the reputation of George IV.,—of interfering in clothes and uniforms; but if I were President of the United States, I should send instructions to our ministers to discontinue their uniforms,—the Kow-towof Europe.
Ever and ever yours,
To
Dr. Lieber he wrote, Jan. 11, 1842:—
Howe will soon publish another report on Laura.
She, poor girl, was delighted at his return.
She cried with joy; and her nervous excitement deprived her fingers for a while of the power of language.
My dear sir,—I have been much gratified by your letter of Jan. 12, which I have just received with the newspaper containing an able article on ‘War with
England.’
I agree with you entirely with regard to the ‘
Creole’ affair,—except, perhaps, that I go further than you do.
In the first place, England cannot deliver up the slaves who are not implicated in the mutiny and murder by which the government of the ship was overthrown.
She has laid down a rule not to recognize property in human beings since the date of her great Emancipation Act. The principle of this is very clear.
She will not in any way lend her machinery of justice to execute foreign laws which she has pronounced immoral, unchristian, and unjust.
She had not so pronounced until her Act of Emancipation.
It is common learning among jurists, that no nation will enforce contracts or obligations of an immoral character, even though not regarded as immoral in the country where they were entered into.
Thus, in Algiers, the wages of prostitution may be recoverable in the courts, or a contract of concubinage may be enforced (I merely put these cases, without absolute knowledge that such could arise); but the courts of England, and—thank God!—of the United States, would peremptorily decline to recognize the validity of any promise or contract arising from such impurities.
So must it be now with England.
To her, slavery is worse than polygamy and concubinage.
She cannot be called upon in any way to acknowledge the legal existence of a relation which she has denounced as a crime majoris abollo;.
Next, as to the slaves, participators in the mutiny and murder.
Their case is not so clear as that of the others; but, nevertheless, sufficiently clear
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to enable us to see the way of settlement.
And, first, I am inclined to believe—indeed, I entertain scarcely any doubt—that they became free menwhen taken, by the voluntary act of their owners, beyond the jurisdiction of the Slave States.
Slavery is not a national institution; nor is it one recognized by the law of nations.
It is peculiar to certain States.
It draws its vitality from the legislation of those States.
Now, this legislation is of course limited to those States.
It is not extra-territorial in its influence.
Our New England courts have decided that a slave coming to our soil by the consent of his master—as, for instance, a servant—becomes entitled to his freedom.
The invigorating principle of the common law manumits him. It is not so, however, with a fugitive slave.
And why?
Because the Constitution of the United States has provided for his surrender; but the case of a fugitive slave is the only one provided for. The courtier of Queen Elizabeth said that the air of England was too pure for a slave to breathe in. I will say that the air of the ocean is too pure for slavery.
There is the principle of manumission in its strong breezes,—at least, when the slave is carried there by the voluntary act of his owner.
If I am correct in this view, these slaves were remitted to their natural rights.
They were justified in overthrowing by force (not mutinous or murderous, because justifiable) any power which deprived them of their liberty.
In doing what they did, therefore, they have not been guilty of any crime: they are in the same situation with the others who did not participate in the alleged murder.
But, in the next place, suppose we are wrong in this view; suppose they were not justified in rising, as they did; suppose, in short, that they have committed the crime of murder under our laws,—still, I say, England will not be obliged to give them up. The crime will be piracy by statute, and not by the law of nations.
Now, it is perfectly clear by the law of nations,—and no nation has acted upon this rule more than the United States,—that no government can be called upon to surrender persons who have offended against the municipal laws of another government.
It is, of course, within the discretion of a government to surrender such offenders; but it is no just cause of complaint that a government refuses to exercise this discretion.
There can be no doubt that England will refuse to exercise it. Believe me, my dear sir,
Very faithfully yours,
P. S. It may not be uninteresting to you to know that
Judge Story agrees with the view presented in the
Boston paper on the ‘Right of Search.’
He agrees with every line of it.
Chancellor Kent has written me that he has ‘no hesitation in subscribing to it, as sound, logical, and conclusive.’
Mr. Choate, of the Senate, gives it his assent.
I do not know what
Mr. Webster thinks about it.
To Lord Morpeth, then at Philadelphia, he wrote, Jan. 19, 1842:—
Last evening, I was at two graceful gatherings of our Boston world,— one at Mr. Jeremiah Mason's, and the other at Mrs. Ritchie's. I wish you
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had been here to see our women, whom you did not see. We are on tiptoe to see who shall catch the first view of Dickens above the wave.
To-morrow or next day, the packet will be here.
Query: Will he eat the dinner the young Bostonians wish him to eat, and make the speeches (large price for a dinner!) which they expect him to make?
my dear
Lieber,—. . .
Longfellow's book contains some of the most beautiful gems of American poetry,—I would almost say, some of the most beautiful in English poetry.
The description of the wreck in the ballad of the ‘
Hesperus’ is one of the finest things in English ballad literature.
‘Excelsior’ is a noble poem, which cannot die; and which, as long as it lives, will fill with new energy those who read it, besides exciting the highest admiration for the writer.
‘
Endymion’ is a most poetical thought, beautifully wrought.
‘It is not always May’ is a truly melodious composition.
‘The Rainy Day’ is a little pearl.
‘Maidenhood’ is a delicate, delicious, soft, hazy composition.
‘God's-Acre’ is a very striking thought.
Then, the hexameters.
I do not like this measure in
English.
Our language has too many little words to bear this dactylic and spondaic yoke; but
Longfellow has written the best that have been written in the language.
I return you your notes on the ‘Right of Search.’
I sent you, some time ago, a reply to my article which appeared in the ‘Daily Advertiser,’ written by J. C. Perkins, of Salem,—a lawyer of great attainments and acuteness in his profession.
I have taken up the subject again,—partly to rejoin to him, and partly to consider several points which I have heard started in various places on the subject.
In my second article, I have taken something from you. You will recognize your property when you see it. Tell me how the question stands on this last article.
The ‘National Intelligencer,’ I am told, has published my first, with some notes of praise; while the ‘Globe’ and ‘Madisonian’ have come out against it. I have not seen either.
I do not belong to a reading-room, and see very few papers.
I long to see your letter on the ‘Creole,’ and wish I could send you a copy of one I wrote to Mr. Harvey, of New York, about a month ago, who wrote to me, asking what I thought of the case.15 . . .
Ever yours,
C. S.
To D1. Lieber he wrote, Feb. 21, 1842:—
I shall not go to the Supreme Court this winter, probably never.
The cases in which I was retained to go there have been brought to a conclusion here without resorting to Washington.
I am glad you like Choate so well.
His
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position here is very firm.
He is the leader of our bar, with an overwhelming superfluity of business, with a strong taste for books and learned men, with great amiableness of character, with uncommon eloquence, and untiring industry.
I still stick to Adams;16 I admire the courage and talent he has recently displayed, and the cause in which they were exerted.
I object most strenuously to his manner, to some of his expressions and topics, as unparliamentary, and subversive of the rules and orders of debate.
These are among the great safeguards of liberty, and particularly of freedom of speech.
I was taught this by you. By imposing certain restraints, they give freedom, enabling everybody to express his honest opinions without fear of bullies or interruptions.
One of the worst signs at Washington is the subversion of these rules.
No personality is too low for that House; and Mr. Adams erred very much when he spoke ‘of the puny mind of the gentleman from Kentucky,’ and when he alluded to his intemperance.
His example swill encourage others in worse breaches of decorum. . .
But I still stick to Adams.
His cause was grand.
If I had been in the House, I should have been proud to fight under his banners.
He has rallied tile North against the South; has taught them their rights, and opened their eyes to the ‘bullying’ (I dislike the word as much as the thing) of the South.
I wish you could extricate yourself from that coil.
4 Court Street, March 10, 1842.
my dear Sir,—I am now able to send you the volume of documents containing the correspondence of 1837, on the subject of slaves thrown upon
British islands.
Allow me to call your attention to document 216, pp. 3-11, where
Mr. Forsyth states the claim of the
American Government; pp. 13-15, the answer of Lord Palmerston to this claim; pp. 25-28, a further answer of Lord Palmerston, embodying the
English side in distinct and truly honorable terms; pp. 28-35,
Mr. Stevenson's argument to support the slave-owner; pp. 43-45, a most interesting note from Lord Palmerston, assigning reasons why the
English Government cannot be a party to a convention with regard to the disposal of slaves driven on their islands.
The notes of Lord Palmerston seem to me sound and elevating.
The mind steps firmly and securely as it passes over them; while, as I read those from our Government, I feel as if the ground was caving under me.
I also send you Vol.
III. of Madison's ‘Papers.’
On pp. 1429, 1430, you will see that Mr. Madison ‘thought it wrong to admit in the Constitution the idea that there could be property in men.’
I hope you have seen some very excellent articles in the ‘New York American’ on Mr. Webster's despatch.
They are written with feeling and knowledge, and contain a great deal of apt criticism and powerful truth.
Ever sincerely yours,
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my dear Sir,—Common Sense has done the work well.
I subscribe most heartily to all your views, and am glad that they have been so ably presented.
The case of the ‘
Creole’ seems too clear for argument.
What could have induced
Mr. Webster to make the demand he has made I fear that the cause is to be found in the fact that he is a member of a
Southern administration, with a
Southern chief.
But you will observe that he puts his demand upon
comity alone.
I think his letter a most acute and ingenious piece of advocacy.
But the House of Lords has answered it in advance; though the question of
indemnification is still left open.
But I cannot doubt that
England will treat this as she would treat the demand for the surrender of the fugitives.
I think Mr. King17 of the ‘American’ deserves great honor for the prompt and noble stand which he took against the doctrines of Mr. Webster's letter.
His articles were admirable in spirit and matter.
There is some professional learning which might have been introduced beyond what he embodied; but he handled the subject most ably.
Judge Story tells me that, in delivering the opinion of the Supreme Court of the United States on this recent slave question,18 he has declared that, by the law of nations, we cannot require the surrender of fugitives; thus throwing the weight of our highest tribunal upon that of the English House of Lords.
But trouble seems to arise now from the other question,—of the right of search.
The recent debate in the French Chamber has aroused new feeling.
General Cass has come into the lists with a pamphlet, in which he takes sides most violently with Stevenson; and he has carried with him the sympathies of the Americans in Paris.
I am happy to hear that Lord Aberdeen has addressed a note on the subject to our Government, in reply to Stevenson's last letter, which is said to be very able.
What can be done to correct the public sentiment?
I fear nothing.
The question at issue is one of nice law, which the public cannot understand.
Ever faithfully yours,
To Lord Morpeth, New Orleans.
Welcome back from
Cuba, my dear Morpeth!
but in New Orleans I fear there can be no agreeable welcome.
If I have a correct idea of that place, there are the dregs of Parisian vice mixed with the vilest dregs of slavery.
You will see how rapidly this question of slavery moves in the country.
The South seems to have the madness which precedes great reverses.
I agree with
Mr. Giddings in his resolutions.
19 Indeed, they are the exact reverse of
[
204]
Mr. Calhoun's famous resolutions, adopted by the Senate three years ago; and from
Mr. Calhoun's I most thoroughly dissent.
Thank God!
the
Constitution of the United States does not recognize man as
property. It speaks of slaves as
persons. Slavery is a
local institution, drawing its vitality from State laws; therefore, when the slave-owner voluntarily takes his slave beyond the sphere of the
State laws, he manumits him. This was the case with the owner of the ‘
Creole;’ and
Mr. Giddings, in asserting the freedom of those slaves under the
Constitution of the United States, laid down a constitutional truth.
But suppose it were not true in point of constitutional law, still
Mr. Giddings had a perfect right to assert it; and the slaveholders, in voting to censure him, have sowed the wind.
I fear the reaping of the whirlwind.
Dr. Channing has a pamphlet in press, in reply to
Webster's despatch on the ‘
Creole.’
It is a noble, elevated production.
He read it to me a few days since, and I felt glad that such a voice was to be heard in the country, and to cross the sea.
Our Minister in Paris, General Cass, has written a very mischievous pamphlet on the right of search, full of vague suggestions, and introducing harsh and disagreeable recollections of the past with regard to the exercise of the right of search by England.
His protest and efforts have prevented thus far the ratification of the Quintuple Treaty by France, and have stimulated an angry discussion in the Chamber of Deputies, wherein much sympathy was expressed for the United States in her present stand.
Loving my country, and not yielding to General Cass or any man in attachment to her best interests, I don't wish French sympathy on this occasion.
I wish the great moral blockade, with which the South is to be surrounded, to be strengthened and firmly established. . . .
Believe me always with affectionate regard,
To his brother George he wrote, March 29, 1842:—
We differ from General Cass entirely, and regret very much the course he has taken.
I have read his pamphlet carefully, and have been pleased with its ready flow, its agreeable style, its patriotic fervor, and its general ability; but I must say to you that its argument seems to me unworthy a statesman and a diplomatist.
He has mixed up questions which are not at all related; he has introduced the old questions of impressment and other grievances growing out of the belligerent right of search into the discussion of the late claim of England, which is entirely distinct in its nature from all others.
This claim turns upon a nice point in the law of nations, almost technical, certainly juridical in its character.
It is simply this: if an English cruiser commits a trespass on board an American vessel, suspecting her not to be an American, and also suspecting her of being engaged in the slave-trade, what is the measure of liability for the commander?
He has committed a trespass, unquestionably, in setting his foot, without permission, on any ship with the true American flag; but the maritime law of the civilized world—--a part of
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the law of nations—says that the officer shall not be liable in damages, provided he had probable cause to suspect the ship of being liable to capture.
Probable cause is a sufficient defence for any marine tort.
To Dr. Channing he wrote, March 31, 1842:—
I ought to apologize for the freedom with which I have marked the proofs and appended notes.20 Believe me, I do not presume upon the value of any of the suggestions I have ventured to make, but offer them only for the consideration of your better judgment, if you have time and inclination to look at them.
To his brother George he wrote, April 1, 1842:—
Dr. Channing has put forth a glorious pamphlet on the “Creole,” in reply to Webster's sophistical despatch.
One feels proud of being a countryman of Channing.
His spirit is worthy of the Republic, and does us honor abroad.
His is a noble elevation, which makes the pulses throb.
The paltry, uncertain, shifting principles of Webster's letter are unworthy of him. The question of slavery is getting to be the absorbing one among us; and growing out of this is that other of the Union.
People now talk about the value of the Union, and the North has begun to return the taunts of the South.
To his brother Henry he wrote, April 14, 1842:—
We have just heard that you are bound for Havana; perhaps at this moment you are frying under the West India sun. We are all well, as we have been for months.
You know Mary has not been strong.
She has been obliged to abandon her studies; but I think she has been gaining in strength for some time.
Julia is very studious and attentive.
She is growing up to be a delightful and most lovable person.
At the last news from George, he was in Paris and about to go to Spain.
I wish he would think of turning his face homewards. ... Longfellow sails for France the 24th April.
I shall miss him very much.
Court Street, Saturday, April 23, 1842.
dear Henry,—Will this parting word reach you?
I write, not knowing; but the chance of again uttering a word to your soul before you descend upon the sea is enough.
We are all sad at your going; but I am more sad than the rest, for I lose more than they do. I am desolate.
It was to me a source of pleasure and strength untold to see you; and, when I did not see you, to feel that you were near, with your swift sympathy and kindly words.
I must try to go alone,—hard necessity in this rude world of ours!
for our souls always, in this life, need support and gentle beckonings, as the little child when first trying to move away from its mother's knee.
God bless you,
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my dear friend, from my heart of hearts!
You know not the depth of my gratitude to you. My eyes overflow as I now trace these lines.
May you clutch the treasure of health; but, above all, may you be happy!
At Mrs. T.'s, many inquired after you. You were remembered by all as warmly as you could wish.
Mrs. S. B. told me she thought ‘Excelsior’ one of the most beautiful things ever written; that it filled her with admiration for your genius and character.
I told her that I would let you know what she said.
Cleveland was there, and Hillard and Prescott, and we all talked of you. This morning Hillard's lines appear.22 They excite universal admiration.
Judge Story, Quincy, Prescott, Greenleaf, all admire them.
Howe wrote me a note this morning, telling me that illness prevented his going down to make his last adieus to you.
Enjoy Europe, gain your health, and with fresh happiness return to make some of us happy!
Ever your loving friend,
To his brother George.
dear George,—Welcome to
England,
23 on your way to the
West!
How does it sound to hear again your own language, and to see streets and brick houses like those of home?
Let me suggest to you (I wish I had thought of it in season) to note down in a book all peculiarities of phrase, language, or pronunciation which you notice.
Unless you begin early, your ear will get accustomed to them; and will, perhaps, imagine them American.
I think you cannot fail to be struck with the superior grace and beauty with which the language is spoken by cultivated Englishmen . . . .
Robert Ingham, for whom I inclose a note, was a true friend of mine.
He will be glad to see you as my brother, and will give you a warm welcome.
He is a bachelor of forty-nine, living in the Temple, with a pleasant country-house not far from Newcastle.
He lost his seat in Parliament at the last general election.
In politics he is a moderate Whig.
He is a warm but kind Churchman, and is a most delightful character.
In all his views he is pure and elevated; in conversation, modest, quiet, and unambitious, but sensible, well-informed, and with that tinge which every English gentleman, no matter what his pursuit, has derived from the classical fountain.
He will be a true friend to you, if you care to cultivate his friendship.
He will advise with you about your travels in the country and in Ireland, where he has been.
I also inclose a line for Joseph Parkes, a solicitor by profession, but one of the most learned lawyers in England, a strong Radical, a friend of the late Jeremy Bentham and Lord Durham, who takes a great interest in American affairs.
He will take you to the Houses of Commons
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and Lords.
Through him you may become acquainted with all the Radicals, —the Grotes, Roebuck, Charles Austin, Sir William Molesworth, Leader, &c.
You will, of course, see Kenyon, who is a very good friend of mine.
In a recent letter, introducing Dickens, he inquires after you. Dr. Bowring lives quite retired.
He may invite you to breakfast.
I often dined with Senior, or met him at dinner.
He has remarkable powers, but is cold and logical.
Who would have thought that he was the most interesting reviewer of Walter Scott's novels?
Perhaps you have letters to Mr. Bates, You will find him a person of sterling honesty and sense.
His son-in-law, Mr. Van de Weyer, the Belgian Minister, has a great deal of talent.. . .
Julia is still young enough to be happy.
She has a bright, cheerful nature, from which I expect much; and a natural grace and sensibility which will temper her womanhood with great attractions.
Ever and ever yours,
Charles.
All hail, my dear Henry, and a health to you across the sea! . . .
Prescott was sorry to miss you when you called.
Full, true, warm soul he is. Wherever he passes he leaves a path of sunshine, and flowers spring up in his foot-prints—unlike those spirits that move scythe-like across the field, cutting down by their harsh touch every thing that has put forth so much as a green leaf, and making a track of pointed stubble.
Your parting note to me I value much.
I have read it over and over again, to find some new treasure, some unexplored line or phrase with some new, rich vein.
We miss you constantly in our accustomed walks; and it seems to me at times, while sitting at the desk where I now write, as if your footfall would soon break on my ears.
Felton was here yesterday; arrived between ten and eleven in the forenoon, and laughed very loud.
Prescott, who came in and helped him for a moment, read a capital letter I had received the day before from Lord Morpeth; with his hat on, sat in the rocking-chair in Hillard's room, and then in my large arm-chair; made a sortie for half an hour; then returned; and then went with me to the cellar where we last broke bread together.
I do not visit the Ticknors now, and feel that our separation is growing broader every day. I have been true to them.
Why, then, should I feel troubled?
And yet friendship, sympathy, and kindness are a peculiar necessity of my nature, and I can have few losses greater than the weakening of these bonds.
Sunday, May 15.
Another night of sleep.
I am a day older, with gray hairs shooting forth with startling growth.
We dined at
Prescott's at five o'clock,—William and
Charles Amory,
W. H. Gardiner,
Dr. Robbins, and myself.
There was a good deal of pleasant conversation.
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Mr. Webster arrived in town yesterday.
I wish to see him about Fay, and to revive the old plan about Greene; but our public men are so lost in selfishness that I do not hope much.
If I were a partisan in politics, I should speak as one having influence.
We25 have read the proofs of Dr. Channing's second pamphlet.
It is bold, vivid, and full of life-giving truths.
I admire the power of this man. Of all moral truth he has an instinctive perception, and clothes it in an angelic light. . . .
So I close this rambling scrawl.
What care you for these minutes and fragments of life here in Boston?
You now look upon the Rhine and its castled glories.
God bless you!
my dear friend.
Get health and peace, and come home.
Ever and ever affectionately yours,
P. S. Oh!
I long for those verses on Slavery.
26 Write some stirring words that shall move the whole land.
Send them home, and we will publish them.
my dear
Crawford,--. . . After I had completed my subscription for the ‘
Orpheus,’—that is, after I had got all the names on paper that I supposed would subscribe,—I put the subscription-paper into a pigeon-hole without collecting the money, where it lay undisturbed, among other documents, till I was aroused from my slumbers by your most welcome letter of Jan. 4. . . .
I read Greene's letters in the ‘Knickerbocker’ with great pleasure.
1 fear that there is but little chance of any great change with regard to his consulate.
Perhaps you are aware that I made an effort to bring about some improvement.27 Mr. Webster said there would be no difficulty in appropriating one thousand dollars to our Consul at Rome, by way of salary; and said that he would recommend it. At his request I drew up a statement on the subject, in which I undertook to suggest some matters touching our representative at Rome, which was duly transmitted to him. I also forwarded copies of it to several Senators and Representatives, whom I endeavored to interest in Greene.
But to my sorrow I see that nothing has come of it. All our public men are so absorbed by selfish considerations, that such a claim as this, with nobody present to urge it, and no party interests acting in its behalf, is neglected.
Mr. Webster is expected in Boston in a few days; and if I can get an opportunity, I shall call his attention to it again. . . .
I did receive your ‘Washington’ letter, and wish you could have had an
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order for a statue of our ‘great Father.’
That is the highest work with which an American artist can occupy himself.
Let me know what you have done lately, and keep me informed of your works.
Would it be possible to persuade Thorwaldsen to present casts of his works to our Athenaeum?
Or at what price could they be procured?
Give me your ideas about this.
We are anxious to enrich our collection with as many fine works as possible.
Where do you live, and how do you live?
It is in Rome, and there is enchantment in that word.
But in what street?
How are the cafes, and the places of resort?
I look back upon my sojourn there with a thrill of delight, and long again to tread the streets, to visit the galleries, to loiter on the marble pavements of the churches, and to surrender myself to the unspeakable charms of the place.
I write this from my office in Court Street, with law books staring me in the face, and business neglected, chiding me for thus dallying in imagination with these far-off scenes.
Felton has just left me, and sends his cordial regards.
We have been sad at parting with Longfellow.
He sailed from New York for Havre on 27th April, to pass the summer at a watering-place on the Rhine, and to return home in October.
When will the ‘Orpheus’ be finished?
Pray tell me all about it as the work proceeds, and how you are satisfied with it. Where does Greene live now?
Give him my love.
He must write to some of us.
Ever sincerely yours,
To Lord Morpeth, at St. Louis, he wrote, May 25:—
Prescott gave an account, doubtless, of our excursion to New York, to meet Irving.
It was a most agreeable jaunt, which I enjoyed very much.
Prescott was fairly “Boz-ed.”
He amuses us not a little by his account of the doings and sayings to which he was a party.
‘Mr. Everett has written me of the great kindness of Lady Carlisle and all your house to him. Mr. Webster has been in Boston for a day or two; he seemed in good spirits.
He spoke in high terms of Lord Ashburton, and said he was a good man to deal with, who could see that there were two sides to a question.
We all feel that our difficulties are approaching an end.’
my dear Sir,—--I have this morning received your letter of May 23, from Duncan's Island.
The roll of proofs of the first half came to
Crosby's hands this morning, and have been sent to the printer.
They are just in season, for not a single sheet has been struck off.
Mr. Hillard and myself have read the proofs with care, supposing that we should not regain those despatched to you; but we have found very little occasion for correction of any
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kind.
I hope you will not feel that we have been subjected to any trouble.
The very slight care of reading the proofs we have given with the greatest cheerfulness; and I now speak for
Hillard as well as myself.
Taking the interest we do in the cause, and proud of your friendly confidence, it is a source of pleasure to us.
I have had a letter from Lord Morpeth, which shows that his observation of slavery in Cuba, Carolina, and Louisiana has not weakened his hatred of it. He says, writing from Louisville: ‘I am dying to see Dr. Channing's pamphlet; but I suppose I should ask in vain till I get to Ohio.’
I have forwarded it to him.
Dr. Howe's report on the Blind Asylum is published, and is a noble contribution to the cause of humanity.
The story of Laura Bridgman, as told by him, warms with magic influence the hearts of men. She throws untold interest about the blind, and the sympathy excited by her remarkable case is extended to a whole class.
I send you the ‘School Journal,’ containing a part of the report, and some admirable remarks by Mann.
He has recently returned from the convention at Utica, where, I am told, he did a great deal of good.
Everybody listened while he spoke, and wished him to speak all the time.
If Hillard and myself can be of any service to you in Boston, during your absence, I hope you will command us as your sincere friends.
my dear Morpeth,—I envy you your visit to
Mr. Clay, and feel disposed to sympathize in your appreciation of his character.
He must be, in many respects, a noble soul, with great qualities and a genius for command.
I doubt not that he is ‘honest’ as the world goes; but his principles are all of this earth.
He inspires attachment infinitely more than his rival,
Mr. Webster.
I saw the latter to-day.
He still lingers here and hereabouts, to sniff a little pure air and to await the doings of the Maine Legislature.
They have already appointed commissioners—so has
Massachusetts—to proceed to
Washington with full powers to give their consent to a new conventional line.
So I presume
Webster will be off to-morrow or next day. There can be but little doubt that the boundary question—--the great
crux of our difficulties—will be forthwith adjusted.
There is a general impression sustained by
Webster's language, though he is very guarded, that the
Ashburton mission will be successful.
We no longer think or talk about foreign affairs.
It is the tariff which occupies and absorbs this part of the country.
Much of the wealth of
New England is so situated as to be dependent upon a protection derived from high duties on certain foreign articles.
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Peel seems to ‘steady on with upright keel.’
I confess my liking for his income tax. It is bold and frank.
He does not move pawns, but plays his queen at once; and his move has drawn forth a good deal of admiration.
I wish I could talk with you about his course.
Is he not showing himself to be really a statesman?
I dined with Prescott yesterday.
I always enjoy him very much.
For you he has a most affectionate friendship, which he expresses to me constantly.
In the ‘Times’ of May 4 is a very interesting debate on universal suffrage, brought on by Duncombe presenting the petition of the Chartists.
Lord John's speech is very good.
Mark how gently he alludes to the United States.
Macaulay's speech, though not wanting in force, fails in tact and address.
I wonder there was not a laugh at his allusion to distress experienced under ‘pecuniary’ difficulties.29 Duncombe must have started at it. Good-by.
Ever and ever yours,
To Longfellow he wrote, June 6, 1842:—
It is artillery election-day, and the streets are full of happy throngs, and the Common is blackened by the multitude. . . . I received to-day an invitation from the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Dartmouth College to deliver the oration before the Alpha.
Of course, I must decline. . . . How I envy Felton's happiness!
His own bosom is such an overflowing fountain of goodness as to supply perpetual sources of happiness, which diffuse their refreshing influences over all about him, like the cool and abundant waters of the Fountain of Trevi at Rome.
my dear Sir,—I was very much gratified by your kind letter, written when you were first recovering from your illness.
William, your son, was in our office a few minutes since, and tells us that you are now in
Philadelphia.
I simply wish to say that the second part
30 is now fairly before the public, and I think is doing a great deal of good.
I have, in various ways, read it many times; and I may say, most sincerely, that it seems better each time.
It is comprehensive, clear, earnest, and convincing.
I was in Providence yesterday, where I saw President Wayland.
He wished me to say to you that he had read both parts with great pleasure, and that he agreed with you entirely.
His views on Slavery, and with regard to the South, have materially changed lately.
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I sent a copy of the first part (and I have also of the second part) to Lady Carlisle,—the kind and warm-hearted mother of Lord Morpeth.
She writes me: ‘I am so much obliged to you for the most interesting pamphlet on the “ Creole” question.
I admired it extremely, and have seldom read any thing that had a greater effect upon me.’
Lord Carlisle thought it so good that, though not politically intimate with Sir Robert Peel, he sent it to him, thinking it was what he ought to see.
I trust that you will gain strength fast.
In the hills of Berkshire the nymphs of health seem to live.
Several friends have been there recently, and have returned with pleasant recollections.
The Ticknors and the Prescotts have passed some time at Lebanon.
Yours ever most sincerely,
P. S. Dickens will write a series of graphic sketches on our country,— one on ‘
International Copyright;’ another, I think, on ‘Slavery,’
31 with the first sentence from the
Declaration of Independence for his motto.
dear
Lieber,—What a state of imbecility and irresolution and ignorance exists in
Rhode Island!
But we must begin with the source of all, —
John Tyler.
Why does he not take the responsibility?
If ever a case occurred under the
Constitution, it is now. The whole State is in a panic.
Within a few days, upwards of three millions of dollars have been sent from
Providence to
Boston,—and women and children also,—--for safe-keeping.
The whole State is under arms.
I was in
Providence last week; and, as I walked the streets in the evening, was stopped by pickets, and asked: ‘Who goes there?’
All business is suspended.
The lawyers do nothing.
Is not this clearly a case for the intervention of the
General Government to protect the
State from domestic insurrection?
A few regular troops, well-officered, with a sense of military subordination, would disperse the traitors immediately. . . .
We all miss our dear Longfellow very much.
We love him most sincerely.
I am with Howe a great deal.
Bachelors both, we ride and drive together, and pass our evenings, far into the watches of the night, in free and warm communion.
His seat is a summer retreat, and I pass one or two nights of every week with him. I think, however, he will be married very soon.
What then will become of me?
It is a dreary world to travel in alone.
Have you heard from Oscar lately?
I hope he is well; and when shall you kiss his forehead again?
May we expect you in Boston this summer?
You say nothing about your plans.
You ask about my brother George, and seem to think he will be at home this summer.
I begin to think he will
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never return.
He has passed this winter at Paris, and when he last wrote was on the point of going over to England, for the summer and autumn; at the end of autumn to take the steamer for Malta again, visit Algiers and the north of Africa; then to Spain, and through that country into France again, —all of which, I suppose, will consume another year.
I say, constantly, cui bono, all this travel?
Far better to be at rest in some one place, hiving up from books, study, and meditation, rather than this perpetual attrition with the world.
There is an article by George in the July number of the ‘North American,’ on the affairs of Afghanistan and British India generally..
God bless you!
Ever and ever yours,
To his brother George, London.32
my dear George,—. . . You enjoy conversation on politics, statistics, and history.
Do you sufficiently appreciate talent out of this walk?
For instance,
Kenyon does not care a pin's fee for these topics; but he is exuberant with poetry and graceful anecdote: so that I must count him one of the most interesting men I have ever met. And I remember breakfasts at his house which were full of the most engaging conversation, different in its style and interests, but, I must confess, more engaging than a dinner with
De Gerando, a morning with the
Duc de Broglie, or
De Tocqueville, or an evening in company with
Circourt,—--all of which, and much more, I enjoyed in
Paris.
Still, let me not disparage the latter.
It is a pleasure to remember them; but the topics discussed and the tone of the discussion are different.
Parkes is absorbed by politics, history, and the
real. You and he will have many sympathies.
But you would not sympathize with the imaginative, graceful, refined intellect of my friend
Milnes,—--perhaps not with the epigrammatic, caustic, highly-finished sculptured
mots of
Rogers, or the brilliant, argumentative wit of
Sydney Smith.
I like to find good in every thing; and in all men of cultivated minds and good hearts-thank God I—there is a great deal of good to be found.
In some it shows itself in one shape, and in some in another; some will select your favorite themes, while others enjoy
ideality and its productions manifold.
Let me ask you to cultivate a habit of appreciating others and their gifts more than you do. . . .
You think me prejudiced in favor of England.
Those who know my opinions know that I saw and felt the plague-spots of England as much as anybody.
The government is an oligarchy,—the greatest and most powerful in the history of the world.
There is luxury the most surprising side by side with poverty the most appalling.
I never saw this in England, I never think of it now, without a shock.
I pray for some change,—in peace,—--by which this constant injustice may be made to cease.
But because these things are so,
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should I therefore condemn all the people?
Should I fall foul, like another Smelfungus, of all that is beautiful?
Should I go out of the way to find dishonorable motives for conduct which is apparently benevolent and philanthropic?
I know something of the conduct of England in regard to the slave trade.
I know it from mingling with the people, and from conversation with many leaders on the subject.
And I solemnly believe that, if ever a nation was disinterested in its conduct, it is England in her great, gigantic, magnificent exertions for the suppression of the slave-trade.
General Cass's suggestions to the contrary,—his insinuations about material interests,–were only worthy of a man like Duff Green.
I am desirous that all honest endeavor should receive its reward in the esteem of the world.
Is it charitable to seek a low motive for conduct which is the natural product of a high motive? . . .
I heard De Gerando lecture, say, twenty times.
I was at his soirees, say, five times, and dined with him once.
He never appeared to me a weak man; and I should rebuke myself, if I so called the author of the great work on ‘Bienfaisance.’
He is no longer in the enjoyment of fresh powers; but, my dear George, may not you and I both thank God, if, living to his age, we shall be enabled to look back upon a life as actively employed in high labors of public usefulness as the Baron de Gerando's?
July 8, 1842.
After an interval of two days, I return to you, my dear George.
I hope you will not think me cool or unkind in what I have written on the other sheet.
Perhaps I value too much (and yet can anybody value too much?) charity and kindliness in our appreciation of others.
This world is full of harshness.
It is easier to censure than to praise: the former is a gratification of our self-esteem; while to praise seems, with minds too ambitious and ungenerous, a tacit admission of superiority.
It is a bane of society, wherever I have known it,—and here in
Boston as much as in
London,—a perpetual seeking for something which will disparage or make ridiculous our neighbors.
Their conduct is canvassed, and mean and selfish motives are attributed to them.
Their foibles are dragged into day. I do not boast myself to be free from blame on this account; and yet I try to find what is good and beautiful in all that I see, and to judge my fellow-creatures as I would have them judge me. There is a verse in
Pope's ‘Universal Prayer’ which is full of beauty.
I wish it were graven on tablets in all our churches.
You will pardon me for quoting what is to you so trite:—
‘Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.’
When in Europe, I mingled in different countries with people of various characters.
I am thankful that my impressions of all the countries that I saw, and of many people in those countries, are agreeable.
I received much kindness: for this I am grateful.
Not that I did not see much misery, much coarseness, much ignorance, much want of refinement, much injustice; but
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among individuals of all countries I found precious human sympathies, and cultivation that adorned them.
You think I look back upon England with too warm feelings of regard.
Do you know my opinions of English policy, and of the English Government?
With these I certainly feel less sympathy than with the French.
But should I not love my friends?
Should I not love those minds that have enriched our common language with their high fancies, their glowing thoughts, their learned expositions?
And can I confine my regards to those few whose tastes and studies have conducted them in the same path with myself?
No: I rejoice in every opportunity of meeting any person whose mind is enriched by cultivation, and whose heart is warm with kindly feelings.
Let me not judge his short-comings; let me not require from him more than God has appointed to him to contribute. . . .
You feel about this and your letter on Greece33 as I did about the first articles in the ‘Jurist’ which I published while I was still a student.
I thought all the profession throughout the country would look up to me as the author; and I was anxious for newspaper notices.
But I find that the more one writes, the more indifferent he becomes to the reception of his productions.
Dr. Channing has often told me that, when he has printed any thing, he dismisses it from his mind.
I cannot forbear saying how much pleasure it gave me to see your few words about Longfellow.
He cares not at all for politics or statistics, for the Syrian question, or the disasters of Afghanistan.
But to him the magnificent world of literature and Nature is open; every beauty of sentiment and truth and language has for him a relish; and every heart that feels is sure of a response from him. I feel for his genius and worth the greatest reverence, as for him personally the warmest love. . . . I think, if you view persons candidly in England, you will meet many whom you would be proud to grapple to your heart with hooks of steel.
You cannot fail to be struck by the high cultivation of all who form what is called the class of gentlemen, by their accomplished scholarship, their various acquaintance with all kinds of knowledge, their fastidious taste,—carried perhaps to excess, but erring on virtue's side.
I do not know that there is much difference between the manners and social observances of the highest classes of England and those of the corresponding classes of Germany and France; but in the rank immediately below the highest,—as, among the professions, or military men, or literary men, or politicians not of the nobility,—there you will find that the Englishmen have the advantage.
They are better educated and better bred, more careful in their personal habits and in social conventions,—more refined.
The English country gentleman is of a class peculiar to England.
He has at least three thousand pounds a year, and lives surrounded by his tenantry.
Mr. Blackett, who has called on you, is a country gentleman of moderate fortune, and the owner of a coal mine.
He was for many years the M. P. for the County of Northumberland.
Ingham is a person of warm and affectionate nature, and much attached to the Church.
I hope you will mingle with
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people without taking part in politics.
It is the privilege of a foreigner to mingle with all parties, without expressing sympathy with either.
Mr. Basil Montagu is an old lawyer of remarkable attainments.
He has written several works on professional topics, which have been republished in our country; but he is chiefly known as the illustrator of the works of Lord Bacon.
He and his wife, a most remarkable person, were warm friends of mine.
They were both bosom friends of Coleridge, Charles Lamb, and Dr. Parr, and will give you pleasant stories of them.
You know Kenyon's intimacy with Coleridge.
I think some of his sketches of Coleridge and of his conversation are among the most interesting things I heard in England.
Pray remember me warmly to Kenyon and the Montagus.
Tell Kenyon that I confess to owing him a letter, which I shall send very soon.
July 15.—To-day, I close my long epistle.
Hillard has gone with Cleveland on a horseback excursion to Trenton Falls.
He is getting stronger.
Hillard's is a beautiful mind.
You will be struck on your return, if that ever takes place, by the grace and felicity of his conversation.
From his lips there never fall slang, vulgarisms, or coarseness; but all his language is refined, choice, and elegant, enlivened by anecdote and literary illustration. . . .
Affectionately yours,
Charles.
To Lord Morpeth, at Montreal, he wrote, July 10, 1842:—
My last from you was from the banks of the Mississippi. . . .Dr. Fisher34 has returned, and speaks of you with great regard.
I doubt if you fully appreciated—because you did not know—his worth.
He was the first suggester of that system of education of the blind which my friend Dr. Howe has administered with such success. . . . Webster's place in the Cabinet must be as uncomfortable as possible.
I hope that he may succeed in the negotiations, so as to give him an opportunity of resigning.
Tyler shows himself each day weaker, more selfish, more ambitious, more paltry.
Contempt is all that he deserves.
Mr. Appleton35 has made a sensible, practical speech—not too long—in Congress.
He is alone in the heats of the Capital.
Prescott is now at Nahant,—the promontory jutting far into the saltwater, fourteen miles from Boston.
He hopes you will not be swallowed up by a buffalo, before you return to Oriental civilization.
Your note, dear
Lieber, came yesterday. . . . Do you abjure
Boston, this summer?
Bring
Mrs. Lieber to the
North, and give Mary and myself the pleasure of making her personal friendship.
Do not let it rest always in
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paper.
I know I should like her very much, because she loves her husband so well.
Ah! that is the wife's high function,—to be his solace and strength, and to give him the pride and pleasure of being her protector.
I have always taken very much to
Mrs. Greenleaf; and I believe the strong element in my attachment to her is my admiration of her love for
Mr. Greenleaf.
She knows all his labors in his profession, and has been over all his work on ‘Evidence,’-a heavy octavo volume, of six hundred and fifty pages.
But you-you, dear
Lieber — have such a wife!
There you sit, in what you call ‘seclusion;’
36 but what is seclusion, ‘with one fair spirit for your minister?’
I read your note to
Howe; and both of us, mournful bachelors, exclaimed that such seclusion must be the acme of happiness.
As for us, towards night we mount our horses, or jump into a gig, and career through the country for two hours; but when again in town, the sad question recurs, like the refrain of a lugubrious ballad, What shall we do?
Where shall we go?
With whom converse?
Ices, strawberries, and chat, wherein are remembered things, experiences, and hopes of all sorts, absorb the remainder of the evening.
Give us
your seclusion.
Ah!
Lieber, be happy!
I see you laugh at this overflow; but shall I not write as the heart bids?
Judge Story is well, and to deliver a discourse before the Alumni of Harvard College at Commencement.
His theme will be three Ds,—‘The Dangers, Difficulties, and Dignity of Scholarship in the
United States.’
He takes the place of
John Quincy Adams, who fails on account of his political engagements at
Washington.
Come and hear him,—if you can bear to leave your ‘seclusion,’ which we so much envy you. How is Oscar?
We feel sad in dear
Longfellow's absence,--
facile princeps of American poets, friend of the warm hand and gushing heart. . . . I drove the Lyells out last evening.
They sail for
Europe in the packet of the 16th.
I break off now to mount with Howe to ride with two maidens fair.
Ever and ever yours,
To Hillard, at Troy, N. Y., he wrote, July 15, 1842:—
We parted at the foot of Wellington Hills.37 Forbes and I—our horses most restive in each other's company—called on Mr. Cushing.
On my return to town that evening, I found the Lyells had arrived.
The next night I drove them out. They were delighted to see, for the first time, fireflies.
I caught several for them in my hat. Wednesday they went to Nahant to dine with Prescott.
I was asked, but declined.
In the evening I went with Howe to ride with Miss——and Miss——,a young girl of fifteen.
I wished to laugh outright when I saw our cavalcade moving down Beacon Street,— those two young green girls under such ancient escort.
I have been to-night with Howe to make a call at Savin Hill.
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Mann's oration is in press.
I have read the proof.
It is powerful and in pictures, but in a vicious style.
Its drapery is like that of Paul Veronese, —heavy, sumptuous, sometimes tawdry, but always of golden tissue.
July 22, 1842.
dear
Hillard,—I was interrupted in the middle of the last sentence by
Judge Ware,
38 of
Maine, who inquired after you. I am in the midst of the ——business, which I am doing as well as I can. Stay away as long as you can be contented.
The packet came, but with no letter for anybody from
Longfellow.—Here I was interrupted again by a succession of duties, among other things a little affair about a mortgage.
Last evening
Howe and I rode to
Felton's. My only missive
39 was from
Milnes, who speaks warmly of
Tennyson. . . .
You will see the death of Sismondi and of the old Earl of Leicester, T. W. Coke.
So the sage of Geneva will not be heard more, and the hospitalities of Holkham will be suspended.
It is hardly probable that this generation will witness their renewal on the same splendid scale in which I saw them.
Something besides fortune and a large house are required for the successful administration of these rites; and old Coke, by age, frankness of manner, and wide acquaintance with men, had become the chief of hosts.
The closing of his gates will create a chasm in the Whig circle.
Lord Fitzwilliam receives largely, but he does not know how to entertain; Lord Spencer does not choose even to receive; and Lord Lansdowne seems to content himself with his largess of hospitality in London and his Christmas rejoicings at Bowood.
Old Coke will be missed very much.
The other evening I received my annual discourse from Mrs. Howe40 on the married state.
She thinks me erring, and hopes that I shall yet come into the fold, though her hopes in me appear to diminish.
She shall think more favorably, she says, of my condition when I am more taciturn on this most important subject.
Have you read Edward Everett's speech?
It is in the ‘Advertiser’ of Friday (to-day). It is eloquent and apt, and seems to have been received with great applause; but I do not observe any notes of unusual approbation.
It is the speech of a scholar and gentleman, and is in very pleasant contrast to the balderdash of Stevenson.
I wish he had not begun, ‘I must be more or less than man.’
Is this not too trite?41
Enter Cushing, L. S.; then enter Howe.
The two are debating high politics.
Good-by.
Love to Cleveland.
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To Lord Morpeth.
my dear Morpeth,—This will find you, I trust, with a safe scalp, far away from the wigwams and council-fires of the red men. I wonder at the variety and complexity of your travels.
The whole continent will be reticulated by the lines of your journeys.
Quebec is imperial.
How much superior to Ehrenbreitstein!—as much so as the power of
England (with her zone of military music about the earth) is more imposing than that of
Prussia.
Quebec and
Montreal both have a European air, presenting a great contrast to the wooden towns of
New England.
I am anxious that your last impressions of my country should be derived from that part which may give you, I think, the most pleasure.
Let me plan a short journey for you, trusting that the smiling scenes through which I would have you pass may make you forget some of your Southern and Western life.
From Montreal descend Lake Champlain,—observe the beautiful boats on this lake; pass by Crown Point and Ticonderoga, places famous in the French war and that of the Revolution; then cross Lake George, a lake of silver; from Lake George to Saratoga you will pass over the Flanders, the debatable ground in American history, fought over in two wars; see Saratoga and Ballston, then return to Burlington, on Lake Champlain, and from there wind through the Green Mountains; see Montpelier, in the lap of the mountains; cross the Connecticut River, pass through what is called the ‘Gap’ in the White Mountains to Portland, Me., and thence to Boston; then, on the Western Railroad, to Berkshire, in the western part of Massachusetts; again to Trenton Falls (you will not miss another sight of them); thence back to the North River; and, descending the river, stop at Catskill and at West Point.
Is this not a good plot?
Cannot you be present at the annual Commencement of Harvard University (our Cambridge), the last Wednesday in August?
Story delivers a discourse on the day before, in commemoration of the second centennial anniversary of the graduation of the first class of the University.
Come and hear it. This will be a literary festival, characteristic of the country, and everybody will be glad to see you. I am going, for a few days, among the hills of Berkshire with my sisters; but I shall always be within hail from Boston.
Good-night.
As ever, ever yours,
my dear friend,—I am ashamed that I have left your kind letter of Feb. 8 for so long a time without acknowledgment; but various calls have absorbed my time, and I now write in haste in order to introduce to you my friend,
Mr. Wheeler,
42 who has been for some time a tutor in
Harvard
[
220]
University.
He has published a valuable edition of ‘
Herodotus,’ and has otherwise made himself very favorably known to the scholars of my country.
He hopes to pass several months in delightful
Heidelberg; and I wish to commend him to your kind attentions during his stay.
I send you two copies of the sixteenth report of the
Prison Discipline Society; also two copies of
Dr. Howe's ‘Report on the Blind,’ embracing the account of
Laura Bridgman, the wonderful child, who can neither see nor hear nor speak; also a pamphlet on a proposed change in the veto power of the
President of the
United States.
I am glad that you found so much pleasure in your excursion to Italy.
It is a most interesting country, and the works of Romagnosi and some others are valuable contributions to jurisprudence.
I have nothing to communicate with regard to legislation or codification in America.
The commissioners in Massachusetts are still engaged upon their work, and will make a report in the winter.
Judge Story's last work on ‘Partnership’ I presume you have already received.
He is now engaged upon a work on ‘Bills of Exchange.’
Mr. Pickering and Mr. Cushing are both well, and send you their salutations.
Remember me most kindly to Madame Mittermaier and to all your family.
I shall not forget my pleasant days at Heidelberg, and the hospitality of your house.
Believe me ever, my dear Mr. Mittermaier,
Very sincerely yours,
To Longfellow he wrote, Aug. 20, 1842:—
I have been away on a short journey with my two sisters, Mary and Julia, and have enjoyed not a little their enjoyment of life and new scenes.
Howe started in company.
We went to Springfield; thence made an excursion to Chicopee; thence to Lenox and Stockbridge, where I left the girls to ramble about, while Howe and I started on a journey to New York, including Hell Gate, where we passed the chief of our time.
The ‘Three Graces’ were bland and lovely.
From New York I hastened back to Lenox; thence to Lebanon, where I fell in with President Van Buren; thence to Saratoga, where I saw Miss Sedgwick, Mrs. C——, and Miss A——L——; thence to Catskill and the Falls, which I admired very much, West Point, New York, and home. . . . I thank you, my dear Henry, for the words of comfort which you gave me in your last note.
I need them all, and shall lay them to heart.
God grant that you may be happy!
A beautiful career is before you, with opportunities of doing great good, of winning honor, and with the charm of loving friends in troops.
To his brother George he wrote, Aug. 31:—
I much regret your application.
I do not know the office in the country that would induce me to make such an application for myself.
Indeed, I do
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not know the office that is worth asking for, or asking any influence to procure.
It is a forfeiture of independence, destructive to one's usefulness and happiness.
Within a few days, a person high in station spoke to me with regard to my receiving a certain office43 (one which I should prefer over any office in the country with one exception). I told him that the appointment would be agreeable to me if it came unsolicited on my part. ...
The treaty is concluded, and peace now smiles over the two countries.
Lord Ashburton's mission has been very fortunate.
But what different fortunes await the two negotiators!
My Lord will receive an earldom and the thanks of his sovereign, and will close his life in the enjoyment of the highest luxuries of wealth.
Webster, it is presumed, will resign his office; but nobody can tell what he will do. He is deeply in debt, and with habits that will render professional exertion irksome.
From his fate we may learn that office is not worth seeking.
my dear
Buckingham,—I address you with the familiarity of an ancient schoolmate; for well do I remember those lessons in early days, which we recited together.
I thank you very much for the oration you were so good as to send me. I admire the frankness and spirit with which you turned the celebration of the Fourth of July to an occasion for moral improvement.
I wish that for ever this day might be set apart throughout the whole country as the
National Sabbath, to be employed in earnest inquiry into the real condition of public affairs, and in strengthening the foundations of moral principle and of concord.
It should not be ushered in by the sound and smoke of cannons.
Let it be a day of peace, and of those thoughts that flow from peace.
Let me say, most sincerely, that such efforts as yours will contribute to bring about a result which I think so desirable.
I have read your address with care and interest; and though I might possibly differ from you on some points,—only, however, by a shade,—in its tone and general conclusions I most heartily concur.
The part on slavery I particularly liked.
Would that it were responded to by the universal heart of the
North!
On the day on which you delivered your discourse, Mr. Mann delivered one in Boston, which, it seems to me, is a most valuable contribution to the cause of every thing good in the country.
It is well for us, when this day produces two discourses uttered in the spirit of yours and Mann's.
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Believe me, my dear Buckingham, with the attachment of an ancient schoolmate,
Very sincerely yours,
To his brother George.
my dear George,—. . .
Lieber is now in
Boston, and in my office.
Without any suggestion from me, he said that you would be adapted for a diplomatic career, if you were of any other country; but that no American could have any assurance of being continued in a career which he had com-menced,—of all which I am most devoutly convinced; so much so that, situated as I am now, without fortune, I would not accept the highest post in diplomacy.
I would rather enjoy a competency, of which I am sure from year to year, than accept a post from which I might be discharged at some new turn of the wheel, and be left without any thing to depend on. Who would willingly embrace the anxious life of
Mr. Wheaton, living in perpetual fear of losing his place?
45 While writing of this, I ought to add that
Mr. Webster's views on this subject are different.
The last time I saw him, I had a conversation with him on this very topic.
I said that no competent person was encouraged to enter our diplomatic service, because there was no
avenir. He replied that there would be an
avenir to those who were worthy of it. But how can he say this?
How long will
Mr. Webster be in power, and will his successor sustain his nominations,—especially as some of them, as
Mr. Webster confessed, were of notoriously incompetent persons?
I am most strongly of the opinion that no young man who looks for peace, happiness, and the means of usefulness will enter the diplomatic service of the
United States,—certainly unless he has a fortune which will render him independent.
I am also convinced that it would be very difficult, if not impossible, for a young man to obtain any foreign appointment, unless he or his friends had rendered essential political services to the powers that be. My friend
Howe, whose various claims to public and private regard you recognize,—who was seven years in
Greece; who was by the side of
Lafayette during the three days, and who has led a life of singular chivalry and philanthropy; in many respects, one of the most remarkable men of the age,—speaking French, German,
Italian, and
Greek,—in a moment of restlessness allowed himself to apply for the place of
Secretary of Legation at
Madrid a year ago. His application was urged by the warmest letters,—from
Prescott, who had been invited by
Webster to designate some fit person for this place;
Ticknor, who is, perhaps,
Webster's warmest personal friend;
Choate, who has
Webster's place in the Senate; and
Abbott Lawrence: but no notice was taken of the application; and
Howe has regretted very much that he brought himself to make it.
46
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You will read Webster's letters to Lord Ashburton.
They are the poetry of diplomacy.
I know of no such papers in our history,—in dignity and strength of composition, in the stately pace of the argument, and the firmness of the conclusion.
The letter on ‘Impressment’ is magnificent.
He thinks it his best.
The former letter on McLeod was a great production; the two on Mexican affairs are equally so. The demand for the surrender of the Santa Fe prisoners is epic.
If I find leisure, I will write an article for the ‘North American’ on these despatches as a new era in State papers.
The only one in our history comparable to his is perhaps the famous paper of Jefferson, in which he announced the neutrality of the administration of Washington: but I have not read this lately; and I doubt if it can be compared with Webster's. You will see that Lord Ashburton has used the word ‘apology’ with regard to the ‘Caroline’ affair.
I understand that Webster spent two days and a night with Lord Ashburton, before he brought him to the important word.
It is fortunate for the country that a person of Webster's knowledge and power had the management of this negotiation.
Under Forsyth, there never would have been any settlement.
Who excels, who equals, Webster in intellect?
I mean in the mere dead weight of intellect.
With the moral elevation of Channing, he would become a prophet.
Webster wants sympathy with the mass,—with humanity, with truth.
If this had been living within him, he never could have written his ‘Creole’ letter.
Without Webster's massive argumentation, Channing sways the world with a stronger influence.
Thanks to God, who has made the hearts of men respond to what is elevated, noble, and true!
Whose position would you preter,—that of Webster or Channing?
I know the latter intimately; and my admiration of him grows constantly.
When I was younger than I am now, I was presumptuous enough to question his power.
I did not find in him the forms of logical discussion and the close, continuous chain of reasoning; and I complained.
I am glad that I am wise enough to see him in a different light.
His moral nature is powerful, and he writes under the strong instincts which this supplies; and the appeal is felt by the world.
In England, he stands at the head of American writers.
The elevation and purity of his views always diffuse about him a saint-like character.
You asked me to call Channing's attention to a matter stated in your article on Afghanistan.
The last time I saw him, his daughter was speaking of Hillard's beautiful and most successful article in the ‘North American;’ and I asked him if he had read it. He told me that he never read the ‘North American’!
I should like to send you my friend Mann's oration on the Fourth of July.
It is the noblest production ever called forth by that celebration.
An edition of twenty thousand has already been exhausted, and more are printing.
I doubt not that one hundred thousand copies will be circulated in the country.
It is a plea for education.
To this cause Mann has devoted himself as an apostle.
It is beautiful to see so much devotion and such exalted merit joined to such modesty. . . .
[224]
Sept. 16.—Lieber is still here.
He likes Mary very much, and has been to see her often.
Horace has commenced as a farmer.
He is with Mr. Ripley,47 eight miles from Boston.
He picks tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, upsets a barrel of potatoes, cleans away chips, studies agriculture, rakes hay in a meadow, and is pleased with his instructors and associates.
Ever and ever yours,
Charles.
To Dr. Lieber, then in New York, he wrote, Sept. 5, 1842:—
I cannot approve of Adams's course on the tariff, and against John Tyler.48 I think he has been governed by the lower part of his nature.
His report was clever and striking in its composition and argument, but violent, uncandid, and wrong-headed.
Is not this a good deal for me to say, where Adams is in question?
So peace smiles upon us!
Lord Ashburton has left with all manner of gratulations on his head.
The correspondence, so far as I have seen it, is delightful: it is better, for my palate, than the choicest wine.
Nobody ever wrote despatches like Webster.
This is owing to his large head!
I can see that large head, like an immense battering-ram, behind every sentence he writes.
To Lord Morpeth, Kingston.
my dear Morpeth,—Lord Ashburton
49 regretted that he could not communicate with you. He could have offered you a passage in the ‘Warspite.’
I fear from what I hear that concessions have been made by Lord Ashburton on the ‘
Creole’ matter which, however agreeable to the
South, will hardly satisfy Lord Palmerston.
I understand that Lord Ashburton engages, for his government, that the local law of the
West Indies shall not in future be applied to American slaves in certain cases.
50 I shall have the whole correspondence this evening, and will let you know how this stands.
You
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will observe that nothing on the subject is embodied in the treaty.
It is to be found in the correspondence, and is in the nature of an honorary engagement.
Indeed, I understood that some of the rabid Southerners proposed to fasten a rider upon the ratification, of this sort: ‘Considering the engagement by Lord Ashburton on behalf of his Government not to apply the local law of the
West Indies, &c., we hereby ratify, &c.’
Wise counsels prevailed; and their treaty escaped this defacement.
Loving peace as I do, and hating slavery as I do, I feel embarrassed.
I have hoped that nothing would occur to break the charm of the treaty, and to interfere with the establishment of complete harmony; but I revolt at any new sanction, even by implication, being extended to slavery.
Lord Ashburton and his suite spread a social charm over Washington, and filled everybody with friendly feelings toward England.
Even J. Q. Adams relaxed in his opposition to all things English; and he confessed that this mission and the conduct of its members had made him for once doubt the uniform hostile intentions of England to the United States.
Choate thinks you were influenced by the desire to save all the money we owe your subjects.
I told him there was a better and purer reason, in which I have faith,—a sincere conviction that a war between us will be inhuman and unchristian, and inconsistent with the civilization of the age. Bound up with this were undoubtedly motives of self-interest, suggested by the conviction that a war would be destructive to the material interests of the country.
Ever, ever yours,
C. S.
To Lord Morpeth, Albany.
my dear Morpeth,—We all bask in the sunshine of peace!
The letter about the ‘
Creole’ has not yet been published.
Lord Ashburton's engagement for his government, if it prove to be as I understand it, will not be more agreeable to me than to you. It extends another sanction to slavery, instead of withdrawing from it all sustenance, and leaving it like a girdled tree.
I bow to
Webster's intellect: it is transcendent, magnificent.
But he wants that divine
afflatus,—those airs from heaven, which fan such a flame in the mind of
Channing.
I have never read despatches of a higher intellectual character than those that have come from
Webster since he has been
Secretary; and some of them have my most unqualified admiration, both as compositions and as expositions of the law of nations.
But where slavery occurs, then he falls like
Lucifer!
I note your programme for the North River; but I have been the length of that river three times, in the course of this summer, and my time is limited; so that I must see you in New York, in order to enjoy the last of you, and give you a parting ‘God speed!’
Let me know when you sail.
Do not fail to enjoy Catskill and West Point.
They are both inexpressibly fine.
I doubt if Theodore Sedgwick is at Stockbridge now. I wish you
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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.
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.
51 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.
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
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will find us a little older than when you left,—some of us no more in love with the world or life, and poor Cleveland ill indeed.
It is thought he must go immediately on a long voyage, either to Rio Janeiro or the Mediterranean.
He is thin and feeble.
My heart bleeds; and I wish that I could lay down the burden of life, and endue him with my vigorous health.
‘Stop! sad heart, and cease repining.’
I do not repine.
I often think of your various words of strength printed, written, and spoken.
A few days ago, an old classmate, upon whom the world had not smiled, came to my office to prove some debts before me in bankruptcy.
While writing the formal parts of the paper, I inquired about his reading, and the books which interested him now (I believe that he has been a great reader). He said that he read very little; that he hardly found any thing which was written from the heart, and was really true.
‘Have you read
Longfellow's “Hyperion” ?’
I said.
‘Yes,’ he replied; ‘and I admire it very much; I think it a very great book.’
He then added, in a very solemn manner: ‘I think I may say that
Longfellow's “ Psalm of Life” saved me from suicide.
I first found it on a scrap of newspaper, in the hands of two Irish women, soiled and worn; and I was at once touched by it.’
Think, my dear friend, of this soul, into which you have poured the waters of life.
Such a tribute is higher than the words of
Rogers, much as I value them.
The death of Dr. Channing is a great sorrow,—not so much for his friends as for truth, humanity, and benevolence.
He died Oct. 2, at Bennington, and was buried at Mount Auburn.
I passed last evening with his daughter, and conversed freely about her father and his last days.
I love his memory very much.
He had been for years a very kind friend of mine.
It is after midnight; so I will to bed, wishing you a thousand blessings.
Ever affectionately yours,
To his brother George, he wrote, in October, 1842:—
You will see that Dr. Channing is dead.
So passed away one of the purest, brightest, greatest minds of this age. He has been my friend, and, I may almost say, idol for nearly ten years. For this period I have enjoyed his confidence in no common way. Both his last treatises he read to me in manuscript, and asked my advice with regard to their publication, and my criticism.
In him there was less pride of authorship than in any person I have ever known.
When he had once written his thoughts, he dismissed them from his mind.52
‘Longfellow53 has returned; and we are all delighted to embrace him. He is well, and in capital spirits.
On his voyage home, he wrote some fine lyrics against Slavery.’
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To Lord Morpeth.
my dear Morpeth,—By post, I send
Longfellow's little
brochure,— the copy from the author.
He is a new knight in the field against the
Southern Python.
The contest on the subject of slavery is thickening fast; and, in the short time since you left us, I can detect a new growth of feeling on the subject.
The Legislature of
Vermont have adopted very pointed resolutions against slavery; and that of
Massachusetts will probably do the same this winter.
The South will feel the sting of these proceedings, and will loudly threaten disunion.
A case has recently occurred in Boston, which shows pretty clearly that the law enjoining the surrender of a fugitive slave can never be enforced among us. A slave-owner hunted his prey to our ground; but the public feeling was so strong against him that he felt it expedient to receive four hundred dollars from some friends of the fugitive, and execute free papers in his favor,--though his expenses in endeavoring to reclaim him had already amounted to more than seven hundred dollars. If the case had been pushed to a decree, I suppose Judge Story would have felt bound to order the poor creature into slavery; but the decree could not have been enforced.
A mass of excited men would have torn the slave from his master.54 This incident has called forth and given body to the feeling already existing on the subject of Slavery in Massachusetts.
General Cass has arrived from Paris, and is fast becoming a powerful candidate for the Presidency.
I was sorry to hear from him that the Quintuple Treaty was beyond all resurrection, and that even Guizot gave it over now. On many accounts, I should like Cass for President over any other candidate.
He is a person of good morals, of heart, and appreciating the amenities of life.
It is difficult to know, with any minuteness, his opinions on political questions.
He professes to be a Democrat, bred at the feet of Jefferson; and he dislikes England,—or, rather, what he imagines to be English policy.
Still, I have great faith that if in office he would, in spite of his Jeffersonian breeding and his prejudices, gravitate to the right.
I have read Macaulay's ‘Lays of Ancient Rome’ with great delight.
Good-by!
Ever, ever yours,
C. S.
To Longfellow, he wrote, in December, 1842:—
Send, if you have not already, a copy of your ‘Slavery Poems’ to John Quincy Adams.
He deserves the compliment for his earnest advocacy of freedom, and the rights of the North.
God bless every champion of the truth!
And may man bless the champion also.
[229]
To Lord Morpeth.55
my dear Morpeth,—The ‘Liberty
Bell’ is pealing its notes; and the tongue you supplied adds to the sound.
But your most beautiful, true, and very cautious letter,
56 while it has given much pleasure to the friends of the slave, has been made, by ingenious and Jesuitical glosses, to reflect upon their conduct and furnish a slur against them.
I forward a paper containing some comments on your letter,—which, I regret to say, have been too generally approved by the generality of the people.
I have promised to reply to these comments, and shall do it immediately.
All that I shall undertake to show will be that we at the
North are not foreigners, so far as slavery is concerned, and that we are not busying ourselves with matters which do not belong to us. Repudiation in the ‘sovereign’
State of Mississippi excites the indignation of the
Northern States; but we are silent in view of the injustice to the slave, perpetrated by the same State.
Your friends are all well.
Mrs. R. regrets that you have favored the Abolitionists even as you have done.
I told her that I should let you know her opinion.
God bless you Ever, ever yours,
C. S.
