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

[90] I can return to former hours with the same facility with which I abandoned them.

Last night, I dined in company with Papineau, and then went to Lord Granville's,—thus passing from the so-called traitor to the ambassador. I like Papineau¹ very much. He is a remarkable man,—firm and dignified in his manner, and conversing with great grace and ability. His hatred of England somewhat shocked my love of my mother-country. He prefers to speak French; and it was easy to see, when he used English, that he was not at home, and that his ideas lost much of their force. I have seldom met a person who interested me more, and whose society I felt more anxious to cultivate. Perhaps I was won by his misfortunes. As we parted,—he treating me with great warmth and attention,—I contented myself with saying, and I could not say less: ‘Monsieur Papineau, je vous souhaite le bonheur.’—‘Ah!’ he replied, ‘Nous nous verrons encore une fois en Amerique dans les jours qui seront bons et beaux.’

The last ‘Quarterly Review’ contains an article on a Spanish subject,— written undoubtedly by Ford, who will review Prescott. Fearing that Ford's high Toryism might be turned against us by recent events, I wrote him yesterday in order to turn aside his wrath, and suggesting to him that the Muse should extend her olive branch, even in this time of semi-strife, between our two countries. I go to Naples as fast as I can go. You will next hear from me lapped in soft Parthenope; and perhaps I may encounter even the August heat of Rome, without, alas! hearing the hoarse verses of Codrus.

Ever affectionately yours,

Charles Sumner.

P. S. Foelix has just been here to take leave, and has given me a most noisy kiss, à l'allemande.