e is doing up a dozen of
Queen's Heads, that it will be of great use: and the farmer will agree
that his young barleys wanted it much. The German Ocean will dimple with
innumerable pin points, and porpoises rolling near the surface sneeze
with unusual pellets of fresh water--

Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer cloud,
Without our special wonder?

Oh this wonderful wonderful world, and we who stand in the middle of it
are all in a maze, except poor Matthews of Bedford, who fixes his eyes
upon a wooden Cross and has no misgiving whatsoever. When I was at his
chapel on Good Friday, he called at the end of his grand sermon on some
of the people to say merely this, that they believed Christ had redeemed
them: and first one got up and in sobs declared she believed it: and then
another, and then another--I was quite overset:--all poor people: how
much richer than all who fill the London Churches. Theirs is the kingdom
of Heaven!

This is a sad farrago. Farewell.

_To Mrs. Charlesworth_.

[27 _April_, 1844?]

DEAR MRS. CHARLESWORTH,

Thank you over and over again for your letter. The last packet with
sketches, etc., came all safe yesterday: and Carlyle is much pleased. We
may say that Winsby Field is exhausted now. I should like however to
have some sketch of the _relics_: the shape of the stone jugs: their size
specified. The _helmet_ could be identified with the military fashion of
some reign, as represented in prints, pictures, etc. But on the whole,
the Allenbys have done capitally: and so have you: and so have I: and so
I hope will Carlyle one day. He begs seriously to thank you and the
Allenbys.

He was much distressed at Dr. Cookson's death: {161} and said how he
should feel it when he came to think of it alone. Such is the man: he
will call all the wits in London dilettanti, etc., but let a poor fellow
die, and the Scotch heart flows forth in tears.

If any one can be found to do half as much for Gainsborough (which was an
important battle) as has been done for Winsby, why, the Lincolnshire
campaign will be handsomely reported. At Grantham there is no such great
interest, it appears.

I hope to get out of London to my poor old Boulge next week. I have seen
all my friends so as to satisfy them that I am a duller country fellow
than I was, and so we shall part without heart-breaking on either side.
It is partly one's fault not to be up to the London mark: but as there