e AEschylus
too a work of man, I say he is like a Gothic Cathedral, which the Germans
say did arise from the genius of man aspiring up to the immeasurable, and
reaching after the infinite in complexity and gloom, according as
Christianity elevated and widened men's minds. A dozen lines of AEschylus
have a more Almighty power on me than all Sophocles' plays; though I
would perhaps rather save Sophocles, as the consummation of Greek art,
than AEschylus' twelve lines, if it came to a choice which must be lost.
Besides these AEschyluses _trouble_ us with their grandeur and gloom; but
Sophocles is always soothing, complete, and satisfactory.

_To W. B. Donne_.

BOULGE, _Decr_. 27, [1848.]

MY DEAR DONNE,

You have sent me two or three kind messages through Barton. I hear you
come into Suffolk the middle of January. My movements are as yet
uncertain; the lawyers may call me back to London very suddenly: but
should I be here at the time of your advent, you must really contrive to
come here, to this Cottage, for a day or two. I have yet beds, tables,
and chairs for two: I think Gurdon is also looking out for you.

I only returned home a few days ago, to spend Christmas with Barton:
whose turkey I accordingly partook of. He seems only pretty well: is
altered during the last year: less spirits, less strength; but quite
amiable still.

I saw many of my friends in London, Carlyle and Tennyson among them; but
most and best of all, Spedding. I have stolen his noble book {241} away
from him; noble, in spite (I believe, but am not sure) of some
_adikology_ in the second volume: some special pleadings for his idol:
amica Veritas, sed magis, etc. But I suppose you will think this the
intolerance of a weak stomach.

I also went to plays and concerts which I could scarce afford: but I
thought I would have a Carnival before entering on a year of reductions.
I have been trying to hurry on, and bully, Lawyers: have done a very
little good with much trouble; and cannot manage to fret much though I am
told there is great cause for fretting.

Farewell for the present: come and see me if we be near Woodbridge at the
same time: remember me to all who do remember me: and believe me yours as
ever,

E. F. G.

_To S. Laurence_.

BOULGE, WOODBRIDGE,
_Febr_: 9/49.

MY DEAR LAURENCE,

Roe promised me six copies of his Tennyson. {242} Do you know anything
of them? Why I ask is, that, in case they should be at your house, I may