_Jan. 27, 1822_.
As if wakening from a long dream, I find myself sitting in exactly the
same comer, on the same chair, in the same room where Fanny, and Honora,
and I were three years ago! Lady Elizabeth Whitbread [Footnote: Eldest
daughter of the first Earl Grey.] looks better than she did when we left
her, though much thinner: her kindness and the winning dignity of her
manners the same as ever. She was at breakfast with us at half-past nine
this morning, when she went to her church and we to Kensington--Mrs.
Batty's pew--Harriet and I. Fanny stayed at home for the good of her
body, and Lady Elizabeth left with her, for the good of her soul, that
wicked _Cain_. [Footnote: Lord Byron's _Cain_, which was preached
against in Kensington Church by Mr. Rennel.]
Miss Grant will be here on Monday, absent a fortnight nursing Mrs.
Nesbitt. A new dog, Jubal: Lady Elizabeth heard one of the little Battys
say, "Lion has _hatched_ a new dog," and the sister correcting her, "Oh,
my dear! _hatched!_ you mean _laid!_" Jubal is very like Lion, only
younger and handsomer: milk-white, and shorn poodle fashion.
_To_ MRS. RUXTON.
GROVE HOUSE, _Feb. 1822_.
I am glad you like the preface to _Frank_: the engineer and the
scientific part will tire you--skip and go on to the third volume.
Delightful breakfast to-day at Mr. Ricardo's. We have this last week
seen all Calcott's principal pictures, and those by Mulready, an Irish
artist: one of a messenger playing truant; the enraged mistress, and the
faces of the boys he is playing with, and the little child he had the
care of asleep, all tell their story well; but none of these come near
the exquisite humour and ingenuity of Hogarth. I have the face of that
imbecile, round-eyed, half-drunk friend of ours in the corner of the
"Election Dinner" now before me, and I can never think of it without
laughing.
We have seen Sir Thomas Lawrence's magnificent picture of the King in
his coronation robes, which is to be sent to the Pope. [Footnote: Now in
the Lateran Palace.] He flatters with great skill, choosing every
creature's best. An admirable picture of Walter Scott; ditto ditto of
Lady Jersey and Lady Conyngham. Lord Anglesea came in while we were with
Sir Thomas: he is no longer handsome, but a model for the "nice conduct"
of a wooden leg. It was within an inch of running through Walter Scott's
picture, which was on the floor leaning on the wall; but, by a skilful
sidelong manoeuvre, he bowed out of its way. His gray hair looks much
better than His Majesty's flaxen wig--bad taste.
_To_ MRS. EDGEWORTH.
KENSINGTON GORE, _Feb. 6, 1822_.
A dreadful storm two nights ago, which blew down two fine old trees in
the park, and a miserable wet day, in which we made our way to the
dentist's.
Colonel Talbot dined here--cast in the same mould as all the other
Talbots I have ever seen: his face has been bronzed by hardships, and
_scorched_ by the reflection from American _snows_: his manner of
speaking slow--not too slow, only slow enough to be calmly distinct; and
when relating wonders and dangers, gives you at once the certainty of
truth, and the belief in his fortitude and intrepid presence of mind. He
related the visit from his European friend, when he had built his log
house, and was his own servant-of-all-work; and gave us an account of an
attack of the Indians upon Fort Talbot. He gives me the idea of the most
cool courage imaginable. I could not help looking at him, as if he were
Robinson Crusoe come to life again, and continuing stories from his own
book. He has now a very good house, or palace I should say; for he is
not only lord of all he surveys, but actually king.
Do you recollect American Mrs. Griffith writing to tell me that Mr.
Ralston would come to see us, and my extreme disappointment at his
finding in Dublin that Miss Edgeworth was not at home, and so not going
down to Edgeworthstown, and not seeing Lovell's school? He has found us
out now, and Lady Elizabeth invited him here. He has travelled over half
Europe and is going to Spain; but upon my giving him a note to
Macintosh, with a draft upon him for five minutes' conversation, and
notes to some other celebrated people, he, like a sensible man,
determined to delay his journey on purpose to see them. Lady Elizabeth
has been so kind to ask him to dine here to-day, and commissioned me to
invite whoever I pleased to meet him. First we wrote to your brother,
but be could not come; and then to Dr. Holland, but he was engaged to
Holland House. In his note to me he says, "I have seen Mr. Ralston
several times, and have been greatly pleased with his ingenuousness,
acquirements, and agreeable manners." His father and mother are
grand--and what is rather better, most benevolent--people in
Philadelphia. Meantime I must go and write a letter of introduction for
him to Count Edouard de la Grange, who is just returned from Spain to
Paris, and may serve him. But I forgot to finish my sentence about the
invitations to dinner. My third invitation was to Mr. Calcott, the
painter, with whom we made acquaintance a few days ago. He has been more
civil than I can tell you, promising us his ticket for the Exhibition,
and preparing the way for our seeing pictures at Lord Liverpool's, Sir
John Swinburne's, etc.; so I was glad to have this opportunity of asking
him, and he breaks an engagement to the Academy to accept of Lady
Elizabeth's invitation.
Now I must "put on bonnet" to go to Lady Grey's. She is the most
touching sight! and Lady Elizabeth's affection and respect for her! She
has desired to see Fanny and Harriet to-day.
_Feb. 9_.
Like a child who keeps the plums of his pudding for the last, but who is
so tedious in getting through the beginning, that his plate is taken
away before he gets to his plums, _so_ I often put off what I think the
plums of my letters till "the post, ma'am," hurries it off without the
best part.
In my hurried conclusion I forgot to tell you that Mr. Ralston has
lately become acquainted with Mr. Perkins, the American, who has tried
experiments on the compressibility of water, the results of which have
astonished all the scientific world.
Wollaston, as Mr. Ralston affirms, has verified and warrants the truth
of these experiments, which have not yet been published. The most
wonderful part appeared to me incredible: under a great degree of
compression the water, Mr. Ralston said, _turned to gas_!
_Feb. 20_.
Lady Lansdowne was here yesterday while I was in town; she heard that
Fanny and Harriet were at home: got out and sat with them: very
agreeable. Lady Bathurst has been here, and Lady Georgiana: asked us to
a select party--Princess Lieven, etc.,--but we declined: could not leave
Lady Elizabeth. I do not know that there is any truth in the report that
Lady Georgiana is to marry Lord Liverpool: I should think not; for when
we were at Cirencester, Lady Bathurst read out of a letter, "So I hear
Lady Georgiana is to be our Prime Minister," which she would not have
done if the thing were really going on; and when I went to Lord
Liverpool's a few days ago, he was in deep mourning, the hatchment still
up on his house, his note-paper half an inch black border. If he were
_courting_, surely the black border would diminish, and the hatchment
would be taken down. I wish it were true, for I like both parties, and
think it would be remarkably well suited.
_Feb. 24_.
Yesterday Captain Beaufort walked here to see us, and then walked with
Harriet and me to Lady Listowel's, _ci-devant_ Lady Ennismore, looking
just the same as when we saw her at Kilkenny: excessively civil to us.
Two curious pictures there done by an Irish boy, or man, of the name of
Grogan, of Cork: one of these is an Irish wake; there is a great deal of
original humour and invention in it, of the Wilkie, or, better still, of
the Hogarth style.
But all this time you would be glad to know whether I am likely to have
a house over my head or not? it cannot be decided till Tuesday--8, or
12, Holles Street.
Yesterday we went to see Mrs. Moutray at Mr. Sumner's most comfortable
and superb house. She had been to see the poor Queen's pictures and
goods, which are now for sale: a melancholy sight; all her dress, even
her stays, laid out, and tarnished finery, to be purchased by the lowest
of the low. There was a full-length picture of her when she was young
and happy; another, beautiful, by Opie or Lawrence, standing screwing up
a harp with one hand, and playing with her little daughter with the
other.
_To_ MRS. RUXTON.