coarse prints always make him
look more of the Gentleman than the better Artists of other Countries
have hitherto done.

Carlyle, I hear, is pretty well, though somewhat shrunk: scolding away at
Darwin, The Turk, etc.

LITTLE GRANGE, WOODBRIDGE,
_Septr._ 10/76.

MY DEAR SIR,

When your Letter reached me a few days ago I looked up Gillies: and found
the Wordsworth Letters so good, kindly, sincere, and modest, that I
thought you and Mr. Lowell should have the Volume they are in at once. So
it travels by Post along with this Letter. The other two volumes shall
go one day in some parcel of Quaritch's if he will do me that Courtesy;
but there is, I think, little you would care for, unless a little more of
'Walter Scott's' generosity and kindness to Gillies in the midst of his
own Ruin; a stretch of Goodness that Wordsworth would not, I think, have
reached. However, these Letters of his make me think I ought to feel
more filially to my Daddy: I must dip myself again in Mr. Lowell's
excellent Account of him with a more reverent Spirit. Do you remember
the fine Picture that Haydon gives of him sitting with his grey head in
the free Benches of some London Church? {199} I wonder that more of such
Letters as these to Gillies are not preserved or produced; perhaps Mr.
Lowell will make use of them on some future occasion; some new Edition,
perhaps, of his last volume. I can assure you and him that I read that
volume with that Interest and Pleasure that made me sure I should often
return to it: as indeed I did more than once till--lent out to three
several Friends! It is now in the hands of a very civilized,
well-lettered, and agreeable Archdeacon, {200} of this District.

I bought Mr. Ticknor's Memoirs in an Edition published, I hope with due
Licence, by Sampson Low. What a just, sincere, kindly, modest Man he
too! With more shrewd perception of the many fine folks he mixed with
than he cared to indulge in or set down on Paper, I fancy: judging from
some sketchy touches of Macaulay, Talfourd, Bulwer, etc. His account of
his Lord Fitzwilliam's is surely very creditable to English Nobility.
Macaulay's Memoirs were less interesting to me; though I quite believe in
him as a brave, honest, affectionate man, as well (of course) as a very
powerful one. It is wonderful how he, Hallam and Mackintosh could roar
and bawl at one another over such Questions as Which is the Greatest
Poet? Which is the greatest Work of that Grea