Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and letters of Charles Sumner: volume 2

[269] in his hatred of slavery. I enclose a recent letter from him on the subject. I shall send this by Charles Perkins,--a most amiable and gentlemanly youth,—who will be in London in September, on his way to Rome.

Farewell! Ever and ever yours,

Charles Sumner.

To Dr. Francis Lieber, New York.

4 Court Street, Saturday.

dear Lieber,—I shall probably leave for New York, or elsewhere, to make an excursion for a week or more. Perhaps I shall join the Longfellows, who think of going to New York to see Dr. Eliot for his eyes. I am solitary here; but I go from solitude to solitude. I ended last evening at Felton's, where I was seduced from my horse to drink with him a bottle of Rudesheimer, and to talk of you. I walked my horse nearly all the way to town, looking up into the blue concave,—the azure tent,—with the silver Diana and attendant stars. It was after midnight before I reached home.

My friend Milnes writes me that he intends to introduce into Parliament a measure for private executions, and wishes to enforce his recommendation by the example of the United States. He has asked me to furnish him renseignements on the subject. Private executions are required in Massachusetts. Are they elsewhere? In what States? You are full on this subject: give me of your abundance. What do you think of the expediency of private executions? Will you write your views in such a way that I may enclose them to Milnes? You know him well by reputation as a member of Parliament, a poet, and a man of fashion,—a Tory who does not forget the people, and a man of fashion with sensibilities alive to virtue and merit among the simple, the poor, and the lowly. I think we shall meet again before you pass to your winter's exile; for I shall certainly be in New York on the 18th.

Prescott has retired to Pepperell, the autumn retreat of his family,—the ancient acres that belonged to his grandfather, who commanded at Bunker Hill. . .

Ever and ever yours,

C. S.

To Dr. Samuel G. Howe.

Boston, Sept. 11, 1843.

dear, dear Howe,—We are all surrounded by Hillard's glory as an aureole. His oration has been published; and the press and all who read it express the warmest admiration. It is better as I read it now, and muse on its truths so gracefully expressed, than it seemed even while I listened to his flowing eloquence. It is an exquisite production. It grows upon me; and what is rare,—almost unprecedented in public discourses,—each time that I read it I find new occasion to admire it, and to bless its author. You will be astonished at the varied scholarship that it shows. For this you will be