I send you papers
which will show the close of the long contest here in Massachusetts. The New
York “Tribune” of Friday, April 25, candidly states the states the position I
have occupied. Never was any contest in
our country of any kind so protracted; never did any, except a Presidential
contest, excite so much interest. The ardor and determination of the opposition
to me has not been less flattering than the constant and enthusiastic support
which I have received. The latter is particularly enhanced by the circumstance,
well known, that I did not in any way seek the post, but expressly asked to be
excused. In truth, I did not desire it. And now that the victory is won, my
former dislike and indifference to it have lost none of their strength. From
the bottom of my heart I say that I do not wish to be senator.1 The
honors of the post have no attraction for me; and I feel a pang at the thought
that I now bid farewell to that life of quiet study, with the employment of my
pen, which I had hoped to pursue. At this moment, could another person faithful
to our cause be chosen in my place, I would resign. I am humbled by the
importance attached to the election. Throughout Massachusetts, and even in
other States, there have been bonfires, firings of cannon, ringing of bells,
public meetings, and all forms of joy, to celebrate the event. As I read of
these I felt my inability to meet the expectations aroused. Again, I wish I was
not in the place. I am met constantly by joyful faces, but I have no joy; my
heart is heavy. Never did I need sympathy and friendly succor more than now,
when most of the world regards me as a most fortunate man, with a prospect of
peculiar brilliancy.
1 The same avowal was made in letters to
several friends, written in reply to congratulations.
SOURCE: Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner, Vol. 3, p. 246-7
No comments:
Post a Comment