wig: that is, out of his age: his Hallelujah chorus is a chorus not of
angels, but of well-fed earthly choristers, ranged tier above tier in a
Gothic cathedral, with princes for audience, and their military trumpets
flourishing over the full volume of the organ. Handel's gods are like
Homer's, and his sublime never reaches beyond the region of the clouds.
Therefore I think that his great marches, triumphal pieces, and
coronation anthems, are his finest works. There is a little bit of
Auber's, at the end of the Bayadere when the God resumes his divinity and
retires into the sky, which has more of pure light and mystical solemnity
than anything I know of Handel's: but then this is only a scrap: and
Auber could not breathe in that atmosphere long: whereas old Handel's
coursers, with necks with thunder clothed and long resounding pace, never
tire. Beethoven thought more deeply also: but I don't know if he could
sustain himself so well. I suppose you will resent this praise of
Beethoven: but you must be tired of the whole matter, written as it is in
this vile hand: and so here is an end of it. . . . And now I am going to
put on my night-cap: for my paper is nearly ended, and the iron tongue of
St. Paul's, as reported by an East wind, has told twelve. This is the
last news from the city. So Good night. I suppose the violets will be
going off in the Papal dominions by the time this letter reaches you: my
country cousins are making much of a few aconites. Love to Morton.

P.S. I hope these foolish letters don't cost you and Morton much: I
always pay 1_s._ 7_d._ for them here: which ought to carry such levities
to Hindostan without further charge.

_To Bernard Barton_.

LONDON, _February_ 21/42.

I have just got home a new coat for my Constable: which coat cost 33
shillings: just the same price as I gave for a Chesterfield wrapper (as
it is called) for myself some weeks ago. People told me I was not
improved by my Chesterfield wrapper: and I am vext to see how little my
Constable is improved by his coat of Cloth of Gold. But I have been told
what is the use of a frame lately: only as it requires nice explanation I
shall leave it till I see you. Don't you wish me to buy that little
Evening piece I told you of? worth a dozen of your Paul Veroneses put
together.

When I rate you (as you call it) about shewing my verses, letters, etc.,
you know in what spirit I rate you: thanking you all the time for your
generou