The Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth Volume I Part 21

_To_ C.S. EDGEWORTH.

BLACK CASTLE, _May 10, 1815._

We, that is my father, mother, little Harriet, and I, went on Sunday last to Castletown--the two days we spent there, delightful. Lady Louisa Connolly is one of the most respectable, amiable, and even at seventy, I may say, charming persons I ever saw or heard. Having known all the most worthy, as well as the most celebrated people who have lived for the last fifty years, she is full of characteristic anecdote, and fuller of that indulgence for human creatures which is consistent with a thorough knowledge of the world, and a quick perception of all the foibles of human nature--with a high sense of religion, without the slightest tincture of ostentation, asperity, or bigotry. She is all that I could have wished to represent in Mrs. Hungerford, and her figure and countenance gave me back the image in my mind.

Her niece, Miss Emily Napier, is graceful, amiable, and very engaging.

My father went home with Harriet direct from Castletown, but begged my mother and me to return to Dublin for a fancy ball. We did not go to the Rotunda, but saw enough of it at Mrs. Power's. Lady Clarke (Lady Morgan's sister), as "Mrs. Flannigan, a half gentlewoman, from Tipperary," speaking an admirable brogue, was by far the best character, and she had presence of mind and a great deal of real humour--her husband attending her with kitten and macaw.

Next to her was Mrs. Robert Langrishe, as a Frenchwoman, admirably dressed. Mrs. Airey was a Turkish lady, in a superb dress, given to her by Ali Pasha. There were _thatched_ "Wild Men from the North," dancing and stamping with whips and clumping of the feet, from which Mrs. Bushe and I fled whenever they came near us. Having named Mrs. Bushe, I must mention that whenever I have met her, she has been my delight and admiration from her wit, humour, and variety of conversation.

_To_ MISS RUXTON.

EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Aug. 1815._

I send a note from Lady Romilly, and one from Mr. Whishaw: the four travellers mentioned in that note called upon us yesterday,--Mr. and Mrs. Smith, of Easton Grey, Miss Bayley, and Mr. Fuller. Mrs. Smith is stepdaughter to a certain Mrs. Chandler, who was very kind to me at Mrs.

Day's, and I was heartily glad to see her daughter, even stepdaughter, at Edgeworthstown, and _my_ kind, dear, best of stepmothers seconded my intentions to my very heart's wish: I am sure they went away satisfied.

I gave them a note to Lady Farnham, which will I think produce a note of admiration! While these visitors were with us Mrs. Moutray came over from Lissard, and we rejoiced in pride of soul to show them our Irish Madame de Sevigne. _Her_ Madame de Grignan is more agreeable than ever.

Mrs. Moutray told me of a curious debate she heard between Lady C.

Campbell, Lady Glenbervie, and others, on the Modern Griselda, with another lady, and a wager laid that she would not read it out to her husband. Wager lost by skipping.

_To_ MRS. RUXTON.

_October 16._

I send you a letter of Joanna Baillie's; her simple style is so different from the _fine_ or the _gossip_ style.

Did you ever hear this epigram, a translation from Martial?

Their utmost power the G.o.ds have shown, In turning Niobe to stone: But man's superior power you see, Who turns a stone to Niobe.

Here is an epigram quite to my taste, elegant and witty, without ill-nature or satire.

Barry Fox has come home with his regiment,[Footnote: Captain Fox had been serving in Canada. On Buonaparte's return from Elba, his regiment, the 97th, was summoned home. When the transport entered Plymouth harbour, and the officers were told that Buonaparte was in the vessel they had just sailed past, they thought it an absurd jest.] and is very gentlemanlike.

_January 10, 1816._

The auth.o.r.ess of _Pride and Prejudice_ has been so good as to send to me a new novel just published, _Emma._ We are reading _France in 1814 and 1815_, by young Alison and Mr. Tytler: the first volume good. We are also reading a book which delights us all, though it is on a subject which you will think little likely to be interesting to us, and on which we had little or no previous knowledge. I bought it on Mr. Brinkley's recommendation, and have not repented--Cuvier's _Theory of the Earth._ It is admirably written, with such perfect clearness as to be intelligible to the meanest, and satisfactory to the highest capacity.

I have enlarged my plan of plays, which are not now to be for young people merely, but rather _Popular Plays_, [Footnote: Published in 1817, in one volume, containing "Love and Law."] for the same cla.s.s as _Popular Tales._ Excuse huddling things together. Mrs. O'Beirne, of Newry, who has been here, told us a curious story. A man near Granard robbed a farmer of thirty guineas, and hid them in a hole in the church wall. He was hurried out of the country by some accident before he could take off his treasure, and wrote to the man he had robbed and told him where he had hid the money: "Since it can be of no use to me you may as well have it." The owner of the money set to work _grouting_ under the church wall, and many of the good people of Granard were seized with Mr.

Hill's fear there was a plot to undermine the church, and a great piece of work about it.

_March 21._

I send a letter of Mrs. O'Beirne's, telling of Archdeacon de Lacy's [Footnote: It happened that when Albertine de Stael was to be married to M. de Broglie, at Florence, the only Protestant clergyman to be had was Archdeacon de Lacy, son-in-law to Mrs. Moutray, the friend of Nelson and Collingwood.] marrying Madame de Stael's daughter to the Duc de Broglie!

My father is pretty well to-day, and has been looking at a fine bed of crocuses in full blow in my garden, and is now gone out in the carriage, and I must have a _scene_ ready for him on his return.

I have been ever since you were here mending up the little plays; cobbling work, which takes a great deal of time, and makes no show.

It was in January 1816 that Maria Edgeworth received a letter from Miss Rachael Mordecai, of Richmond, Virginia, gently reproaching her with having so often made Jews ridiculous in her writings, and asking her to give a story with a good Jew. This was the origin of _Harrington_, and the commencement of a correspondence with Miss Mordecai, and of a friendship with her family.

_To_ MRS. RUXTON.

_July 24._

Mr. Strutt and his son have within these few minutes arrived here. He wrote only yesterday to say that being at Liverpool, he would not be so near Ireland without going to Edgeworthstown; I hope my father may be able to enjoy their company, but he was very ill all last night and this morning.

_August 25._

I lose not a moment, my dearest aunt, in communicating to you a piece of intelligence which I am sure will give you pleasure: Lord Longford is going to be married--to Lady Georgiana Lygon, daughter of Lord Beauchamp. You will be glad to see the letter Lord Longford wrote upon the occasion.

Everybody is writing and talking about Lord Byron, but I am tired of the subject. _The all for murder, all for crime_ system of poetry will now go out of fashion; as long as he appeared an outrageous mad villain he might have ridden triumphant on the storm, but he has now shown himself too base, too mean, too contemptible for anything like an heroic devil.

Pray, if you have an opportunity, read Haygarth's poem of "Greece." I like it much, I like the mind that produced it; the poetry is not always good, but there is a _spirit_ through the whole that sustains it and that elevates and invigorates the mind of the reader.

_September_ 18.

You know, my dear aunt, it is a favourite opinion of my father's that _things come in bundles:_ that _people_ come in bundles is, I think, true, as, after having lived, without seeing a creature but our own family for months, a press of company comes all at once. The very day after the Brinkleys had come to us, and filled every nook in the house, the enclosed letter was brought to me. I was in my own little den, just beginning to write for an hour, as my father had requested I would, "let who would be in the house." On opening the letter and seeing the signature of Ward, I was in hopes it was the Mr. Ward who made the fine speech and wrote the review of _Patronage_ in the _Quarterly_, and of whom Madame de Stael said that he was the only man in England who really understood the art of conversation. However, upon re-examining the signature, I found that our gentleman who was waiting at the gate for an answer was another Ward, who is called "the great R. Ward"--a very gentlemanlike, agreeable man, full of anecdotes, bon-mots, and compliments. I wish you had been here, for I think you would have been entertained much, not only by his conversation, but by his character; I never saw a man who had lived in the world so anxious about the opinions which are formed of him by those with whom he is conversing, so quick at discovering, by the countenance and by _implication_, what is thought of him, or so incessantly alert in guarding all the suspected places in your opinion. He disclaimed memory, though he has certainly the very best of memories for wit and bon-mots that man was ever blessed with.

Mr. Ward was Under-secretary of State during a great part of Pitt's administration, and has been one of the Lords of the Admiralty, and is now Clerk of the Ordnance, and has been sent to Ireland to reform abuses in the Ordnance. He speaks well, and in agreeable voice. He told me that he had heard in London that I had a sort of Memoria Technica, by which I could remember everything that was said in conversation, and by certain motions of my fingers could, while people were talking to me, note down all the ridiculous points!! He happened to have pa.s.sed some time in his early life at Lichfield, and knew Miss Seward, and Dr. Darwin, and various people my father and aunts knew; so this added to his power of making himself agreeable. Of all the mult.i.tude of good things he told us, I can only at this moment recollect the lines which he repeated, by Dr. Mansel, the Bishop of Bristol, on Miss Seward and Mr. Hayley's flattery of each other:--

"Prince of poets, England's glory, Mr. Hayley, _that_ is you!"

"Ma'am, you carry all before you, Lichfield swan, indeed you do!"

"In epic, elegy, or sonnet, Mr. Hayley, you're divine!"

"Madam, take my word upon it, You yourself are all the Nine."

Some of his stories at dinner were so entertaining, that even old George's face cut in wood could not stand it; and John Bristow and the others were so bewildered, I thought the second course would never be on the table.

_November 18._

We are reading one of the most entertaining and interesting and NEW books I ever read in my life--Tully's _Residence in Tripoli_, written by the sister of the consul, who resided there for ten years, spoke the language, and was admitted to a constant intercourse with the ladies of the seraglio, who are very different from any seraglio ladies we ever before heard of. No Arabian tale is equal in magnificence and entertainment; no tragedy superior in strength of interest to the tragedy recorded in the last ten pages of this incomparable book. Some people affect to disbelieve, and say it is manufactured; but it would be a miracle that it was invented with such consistency.

_Jan 1817._

Mr. Knox has come and gone: two of the plays were read to him. My father gave him a sketch of each, and desired him to choose: he chose the genteel comedy, "The Two Guardians," and I read it; and those who sat by told me afterwards that Mr. Knox's countenance showed he was much amused, and that he had great sympathy. For my part, I had a _glaze_ before my eyes, and never once saw him while I was reading. He made some good criticisms, and in consequence I altered one scene, and dragged out Arthur Onslow by the head and heels--the good boy of the piece; and we found he was never missed, but the whole much lightened by throwing this heavy character overboard. Next night "The Rose, Thistle, and Shamrock": Mr. Knox laughed, and seemed to enjoy it much.

Mr. Edgeworth was now failing rapidly, though as much interested as ever in all that was going on around. "How I do enjoy my existence!" he often exclaimed. His daughter, however, says that "he did not for his own sake desire length of life: he only prayed that his mind might not decay before his body," and it did not; his mental powers were as bright and vigorous as ever to the last.