The Passage in No. 7 of the Apology where he describes the
State of the World as wholly irreflective of its Creator unless you
turn--to Popery--is very grand.

Now I probably sha'n't write to you again before Christmas: so let me
wish you and Mrs. Allen and your Family a Happy time of it.

Ever yours, E. F. G.

I was very disappointed in Miss Berry's Correspondence; one sees a Woman
of Sense, Taste, Good Breeding, and I suppose, Good Looks; but what more,
to make three great Volumes of! Compare her with Trench's Mother. And
with all her perpetual travels to improve health and spirits (which
lasted perfectly well to near ninety) one would have been more interested
if there were one single intimation of caring about any Body but herself,
helping one poor Person, etc.

I don't know if she or Mrs. Delany is dullest.

_To W. H. Thompson_.

WOODBRIDGE: _March_ 15/66.

MY DEAR THOMPSON,

To-day's Post brings me a Letter from Robert Groome, which tells me (on
'Times' authority) that you are Master of Trinity. Judging by your last
Letter, I suppose this was unexpected by yourself: I have no means of
knowing whether it was expected by others beside those who voted you to
the Honour. For I had heard nothing further of the whole matter, even of
Whewell's accident, than you yourself told me. Well, at our time of
Life, any very vehement Congratulations are, I suppose, irrelevant on
both sides. But I am very sure I do congratulate you heartily, if you
are yourself gratified. Whether you are glad of the Post itself or not,
you must, I think, be gratified with the Confidence in your Scholarship
and Character which has made your Society elect you. And so far one may
unreservedly congratulate you. . . .

To-day I was looking at the Carpenters, etc., carrying away Chips, etc.,
of a Tree I had cut down: and, coming home, read--

[Greek text] {74}--

Whose Line?--Certainly not of

Yours ever sincerely, E. F. G.

_To John Allen_.

MARKET HILL: WOODBRIDGE,
_March_ 19 [1866].

MY DEAR ALLEN,

You shall hear a very little about me; and you shall tell me a very
little about yourself? I forget when I last wrote to you, or heard from
you: I suppose, about the end of Autumn. Here have I been ever since,
without stirring further than Ipswich: and seeing nobody you know except
R. Groome once. He wrote me the other day to announce that Thompson was
Master of Trinity; an Honour quite unexpected by Thompson himself,