To CHARLES SUMNER, 16 MAY 1842*

MS Maine Historical Society. Address: Paid | Charles Sumner Esquire | 4 Court Street | Boston.

Montreal—Canada. | Monday Sixteenth May 1842.

My Dear Sumner.

I received your last, at Niagara; where we enjoyed nine days of perfect repose; and where we were most comfortable and happy.

Directly we arrived at the end of the Railroad⁷ I hurried off: bearing Kate with me, as though General Swett were behind us⁸—ran down the slope (it was pg 239raining hard, and was very slippery) ordered out the Ferryman—got into the boat—and crossed straightway; previously, I should have said, getting wet through, to the skin, by clambering over the rocks under the American Fall. I had a vague sense of the greatness of the scene, as we crossed; but it was not until I got upon Table Rock, that I was able to comprehend it—for I was in a kind of whirl up to that time, and should have been rather at a loss if I had been suddenly called upon to state what part of me I regarded as my head, and what as my heels. But when I had looked at the Great Horse Shoe Fall for a few minutes, from this point, I comprehended the whole scene.

I was never for a moment disappointed in any respect, except in the noise, which is preposterously exaggerated, and which really did not strike me at any time as being very loud,—except when one stands in the basin, and upon a level with the river, in front of the Horse Shoe Fall. Every other expectation I had formed, was fully and entirely realized. From the first, the impression on my mind was one of Beauty, unmixed with any sense of Terror. In the Vale of Glencoe in the Highlands of Scotland, I lost all count of time, and was exalted above every other reflection in the tremendous gloom and horror of the place, which filled me with the grandest sensations I have ever known.¹ At Niagara, I never for a moment forgot that I was at Niagara, although from the first to the last of my stay there, I never looked at the Falling Water, without having the same train of thought awakened by it. It was always Peaceful Eternity; without the least admixture of trouble or commotion.

We idled about this Great Place, as I have said, for nine days—morning, noon, and night. And I think it would be difficult for any visitors to contemplate it under better circumstances than we did.

My wrath is kindled, past all human powers of extinction, by the disgusting entries in the books which are kept at the Guide's house;² and which, made in such a spot, and preserved afterwards, are a disgrace and degradation to our nature. If I were a despot, I would force these Hogs to live for the rest of their lives on all Fours, and to wallow in filth expressly provided for them by Scavengers who should be maintained at the Public expence. Their drink should be the stagnant ditch, and their food the rankest garbage; and every morning they should each receive as many stripes as there are letters in their detestable obscenities.

I don't quite know what I would do with Mr. James Silk Buckingham,³ who pg 240writes blank verse in praise of the scene, and has it hung up framed and glazed, in the same chamber.¹ Solitary confinement; lukewarm milk and water; very damp, clammy sop; and his own books to read; would perhaps be a sufficient punishment.

The extraordinary kindness and attention we experience here, in Canada, no words can express. I believe all the carriages, horses, boats, yachts, boats crews, and servants, in the Colony (whether belonging to Government or Private Individuals) are, or have been, at our disposal.

Let me thank you heartily, for the consultation you held with Felton about the copyright matter. It was impossible to take a more judicious course.

I am afraid and ashamed to give you trouble, but with regard to those books and things which were left in your charge at Boston.—My factotum reports that at the Dry Goods Stores there are old boxes to be bought for five and twenty cents or so, one of which wod. be a Masterpiece of art to pack them in. May I ask you to send them to New York, in such a Package, directed to me at the Carlton ? And as soon as you please?—If I thought you would ever retaliate on me, I would invent fifty useless commissions for you to discharge, that I might have the pleasure of doing something for you.

Kate sends her best regards. And I am always (with cordiall² remembrances to all friends)

• Affectionately Yours | My Dear Sumner
•                          Charles Dickens

I was quite charmed with Hillard's lines on Longfellow's departure.³ Their Music is of the heart, and it goes to mine.⁴

I shall walk into the Bostonians when I get home, for their precious Memorial, and its extravagant dishonesty. I have thought of a rod with tingling ends; and have put it in Pickle.