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

[308] of myself than of you,—which I trust is not the case. . . . I give you most warmly my congratulations.¹ But I trust that the happiness which now gilds your life will not interfere with the exercise of your genius as an artist, or your sympathy with life and all that is human. I rejoice very much in your happiness, my dear Crawford; and particularly because I foresee for you new opportunities of cultivating those ennobling tastes and studies, which will add new charms to the highest genius.

Ever sincerely yours,

Charles Sumner.

To his brother George.

Boston, June 1, 1844.

my dear George,—Enclosed are two missives,—one from each of the girls. Mary has returned,—pallid, delicate, fading, looking sweetly, and like an angel. At times she seems to me so well that I think the dark cloud may turn again to us its bright folds. But I feel too strongly that there is an iron hand on her, which cannot be unloosed. I hope you will find time to write her a long letter, full of details that may charm her. . . .

The article on ‘Architecture’² is very clever. It is by Gilman,—a young man of twenty-seven, who first studied theology, then law; but during these grave studies his heart was in Architecture,—for which he seems to me to have a decided genius.

At the meeting of our Antiquarian Society last week, we voted to publish a volume to contain the early record of the General Court of Massachusetts. As I am Chairman of the Committee on Publication, the labor falls upon me; though I have now more than I can do of other things.

Ever affectionately yours,

Charles.

To John Jay, New York.

Boston, June 5, 1844.

my dear Jay,—I will not allow another moment to pass without letting you know the pleasure I received from your admirable letter in vindication of the blacks. It is clear, cogent, calm, and eloquent. I did not see how it could be done better; and I envy you not a little the joy of having struck so timely a blow for our unfortunate brethren, guilty of a skin not colored like our own.

Your father's letter from the Pyramids and Malta is of deep interest. I rejoice that he has found new incentives to exertion in a cause to which he has already contributed invaluable aid. The leisure with which he is blessed will ripen with fruits of transcendent good.

I hope you have enjoyed Longfellow's two poems,—‘The Arsenal at Springfield’ (noble in truth, and some verses exquisite in execution), and ‘Nuremberg’ (perhaps unequalled in rhythm and artistic merit by any thing