Worcester daily spy. [volume] (Worcester [Mass.]) 1850-1888, 1863-10-17

pulenCe, tHe tnlCk, coal DiacK mar, q matte
mass of short bushy curls; the keen an
searching, rather than piercing black eyes, S
watchful and res ing, rather than quick an
wandering; the smile reserving half its mirt
or once in while the full open laugh; tn
voice sonorous and melodious, never so ric
as in his favOrite recreation of quoting poetry
the suggestive silence with which he lectured
and the easy flow of language when he open
ed the sluce-ways of his own talk-all this vii
come back to the whole circle of hi
friends. He was ct home in all thu
European literatures, passing from the
Portuguese to the Russian with per.
feet facility but in the French he
most excelled. The German was where
he was weakest, | used to think, but that may
have been because there was most compe.
tent to Judge. In Portuguese, Camoens was
his favorlte, and he would quote him by the
hour. In Italian, Victoria COlonna, in French
Beranger, were the themes of his warmest
eulogy; while on his lips the Russian tongue
became melodiouS as lie quoted his tavorite
poet OF that nation, whose name | have for
gotten. His long course Of travel abroad had
brought nm into contact with nearly every
eminent man in the world of literature, both
European and American, and it was his de-
light to take out his files of letters, when sick
ness cut him off from the active services of
life, and read them to his friends. | RENE M
Der numbers from Washington Irving incom-
parably finer than those in Pierre Irvings life
of his nncle-rich in thought and feeling, and
sentiment, instead of being those contracts
with publishers which Irving's biographer,
from the lack of more carefully sought ma.
terialS, has pushed into such unseemly prom
inence. hr
He was ready in wit, and during all that
sickness OF more than two years duration, his
good humor and mirthfulness seemed never
to fail him. Once when we were at a water
cure, and he was arrayed for the ''wet shirt, "
| told him that though not much of a clergy
man, he reminded me, in that attire, of an en-
inent English dlgnitary of the church. 'Who ?'
he asked. "The Bishop Of Bath l replied.
''And Welles," he instantly added, and | re-
membered that in the English title the two are
joined. He was always equal to a turn or a
sally, sometimes delicate and subtle, some
times broad, but never vulgar. His refine
ment and breeding saved him from that.
The grandest lines of poetry ever written,
he used to say, was the verse of Victoria Co.
lonna's:
''She learned in suffering what she taught in song'
This he often repeated, and could see how
own hard and wearisome experience OF sick
ness and pain. One he repeated with deep
feeling the lines:
''youoir &c que Dieu vunt, est la seule science,
Qui nous met repos.n
And the christian resignation which they ex-
press showed that the trial of chronic illness
had done its work with him. SO have our
will tail IN with Gods is all that gffts the sou,
repOse, is What it means; and it is George
Summers confession that he had attained to
the rest and faith of a christian.
The memories of conversation after con-
verSatlon throng Ill upon me as | write, all so
rich as almost to demand expression here.
But many of them were confidential, and it
would be betrayal Of Il trust which he re-
garded holy to PRINT them. On this point he
was singularly sensitive. With lnemory
which lost nothing, and with an experience of
life in its best forms, after knowing almost ev-
cry eminent man Of his day, and being init
mate with many, he always steadtastly re-
fused to publish any rccollectiOns which
should bring words spoken in intimate friend
ship into public light Six months ago he did
indeed begin To dictate memorial OF his Ca
reer, but it was intended 10 be impersonal eX-
cepting i'll relation to public characters aud in
public character. Weakness, however, COM
George Sumner never gave an opus mag
mum to the world He regretted 1t to the
last for he had patience equal to the task. 1t
was not because lie loved trifes that he never
executed anything great, but that he executed
little things in a great way. His life, though
brief, was largely effective. | have gained
but glimpseS into what he did, but those
glmpseS assert career Singularly fruitful.
He 1t was who first investigated the parish
history of Scr0Oby and Austerfield, and
traced Purltanlsm back to its cradle there,
recovering from the traditions and the parish
records OF those English villages the whole
inception of New England life. lie it was
who gave England the superb reading room
OF the English Museum, carrying Mr. PanizZi
through obstacles which even that indefatiga-
BILE man confessed most formidable he it was
who at the time of the Trent affair disintered
the buried precedents of English history, and
judged her out of her own mouth; he it was
who, by his thorough acquaintance with
French history, set Lamartine right in his
hasty and untrue judgments ON the early re-
lation of France to the United States, and on
he blighting influence of Tom Paine on the
cause Of true democracy And yet this is
but fraction of his work he loved to devote
months to a reconcile point, and set it in the
full light of perfect day, and while some men
were writing folios, he was polishing the dia-
mond point OF one rich, valuable, world.
touching fact
He is gone-another victim of this destroy
ing war; for the blow which led to his para
lyss was given by car which struck him as
he was going to spect camp at Readville,
Mass, more than two years ago. He is gone,
man so modest as never in the taintest way
to try to borrow reflected glOries from his