her right, she always made me take her arm, which was a delicate way
of getting over her precedence. . . . At half-past nine the [next
morning] we met in the drawing-room, when the Archbishop led the way
down to prayers. This was a beautiful scene, for he is now ninety,
and to hear him read the prayers with a firm, clear voice, while his
family and dependents knelt about him was a pleasure never to be
forgotten. . . . At five I was to drive round the park with the
Archbishop himself in his open carriage. This drive was most
charming. He explained everything, told me when such trees would be
felled, and when certain tracts of underwood would be fit for
cutting, how old the different-sized deer were--in short, the whole
economy of an English park. Every pretty point of view, too, he
made me see, and was as active and wide-awake as if he were thirty,
rather than ninety. . . . The next morning, after prayers and
breakfast, I took my leave.



LETTER: To A.H.
BISHOP'S PALACE, NORWICH, August 1st



My dear Ann: How I wish I could transport you to the spot where I
am writing, but if I could summon it before your actual vision you
would take it for a dream or a romance, so different is everything
within the walls which enclose the precincts of an English Cathedral
from anything we can conceive on our side of the water. . . . Some
of the learned people and noblemen have formed an Archaeological
Society for the study and preservation [of] the interesting