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

To Dr. Howe he wrote from Newport, Sept. 30:—

Most tardily I return to you. I had hoped to write you immediately after my arrival here last Thursday; but riding, exercise, and sleeping, and the returning and receiving a few calls, have absorbed my hours and minutes. I have an admirable horse, and scamper like the wind over the beach and the country near. I wish you were here to keep me company. I fear that our rides together, scouring the roads about Boston, are all in the wallet of the past. I long to see you, and to sit in the shade of your roof-tree, while your wife is near. I am so well that I begin to tire of my intellectual inactivity, and yearn to plunge again into my affairs. I shall be with you at the beginning of next week, well mended. I hear sad tidings from my dear sister Mary. She has now retired to her chamber, which she will never quit, except on her upward flight to Heaven. Adieu! You may write me one letter more.

To George S. Hillard.

Newport, Tuesday, Oct. 1, 1844.

my dear Hillard,—Your little missive greeted my coming here; and to-day I am gladdened by your more copious sheet of Sept. 29, and mortified, too, by the thought of my heavy debt to you. Sleep,—of which I take an abundance,—exercise, receiving and returning a few calls have consumed my hours and minutes. I have a noble horse, whose hoofs, resounding on the beach, fill me with daily exhilaration; and I do not fail in gentle companions in my exercise. Miss Harper is not fond enough of rapid motion. With the young Caroline Bayard (fair daughter of a more beautiful mother!) I ride this evening; and we shall devour the way with no mean amble or more energetic trot, but with a swift gallop. Miss Harper is said to have drawn after her, in her journey of life, a large train of admirers. She is amiable and good, and I doubt not possesses a judgment as fine as her character; but she does not seem endowed with the magical grace which has introduced into her family three titles from the English peerage. I like her frankness and simplicity, and her sympathy with things high and true. I have been more pleased with the Middletons than I expected to be. The sons are bred thoroughly in the conventions of life; and their voices and kindly manners indicate refinement. Their days seem to pass in inaction. In such a life I should soon droop. The mind requires some serious study or labor as a staff on which to lean,—without which it falls to the earth. I begin already, happy as I have been in my period of convalescence, to pant for my former life, and hope to be with you at the beginning of next week.

I am sad at the thought of Mary, with a disease, like stern destiny, preying upon her: and yet she has been spared longer than I had once ventured to hope. A letter from Julia yesterday mentioned that Mary had withdrawn to her chamber, which she will never leave, except for Paradise. I hope that you and your wife will find a few moments to see her. I do not know how