We have been walking and driving all morning, and seeing all that Lady
Longford has done in beautifying the place and employing the people. I
never saw, in England or Ireland, such beautiful gardens--the most
beautiful American garden my eyes ever beheld. She took advantage of a
group of superb old chestnut-trees, with oak and ash for a background,
which had never been noticed in that _terra incognita_; now it is a
fairy land, embowered round with evergreens.
To-morrow Hercules and Mrs. Pakenham come, with all their children--a
party of thirteen!
_To_ MRS. R. BUTLER.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Oct. 9, 1832_.
I send you one dozen out of two dozen ranunculus roots, which good,
kind, dying Lady Pakenham sent to me, with a note as fresh in feeling as
youth could dictate.
_To_ MR. BANNATYNE.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Nov. 12, 1832_.
The death of Sir Walter Scott has filled us all, as his private friends
and admirers, with sorrow. I do not mean that we could have wished the
prolongation of his life such as it had been for the last months; quite
the contrary: but we feel poignant anguish from the thought that such a
life as his was prematurely shortened--that such faculties, such a
genius, such as is granted but once in an age, once in many ages, should
have been extinguished of its light, of its power to enlighten and
vivify the world, long before its natural term for setting! Whatever the
errors may have been, oh, what have been the unremitted, generous, alas!
overstrained exertions of that noble nature!
_To_ MISS RUXTON.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Nov. 15, 1832_.
Thank you, I am quite well. My only _complaint_ is that I never can do
any day as much as I intended, and am always as much hurried by the
dressing-bell as I am at this instant.
Lord Longford and Lord Silchester called here to-day on their way back
from Longford and Castle Forbes; they sat till late; very agreeable.
When I congratulated Lord Longford on having done so much at Pakenham
Hall, and upon having still something to do, he answered, "Oh yes, I
never was intended for a finished gentleman!"
_To_ MRS. R. BUTLER.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Dec. 28, 1832_.
I send Mr. Lockhart's letter on the subscription for Abbotsford; it does
him honour. I combated, however, his feelings with all the feelings and
reasons I have on the opposite side--that it is a national tribute,
honourable, not degrading. I refused to give him Scott's letters for
publication, and very painful it was to me to refuse him, at present,
anything he asked; but principle and consistency, painful or not,
required it, besides my own feelings. I could not bear to publish Sir
Walter's praises of myself, and affectionate expressions and private
sentiments. I did send one letter to Mr. Lockhart, exemplifying what I
mean--the beautiful letter on his changing fortunes. As to the
subscription, all depends on whether the quantity of good produced will
balance the pain to the family. It would gratify me to give the £100 I
set apart for the purpose, but then comes the question, with or without
my name? If with, there is staring me in the face OSTENTATION. If
without--set down as from an "Unknown Friend"--AFFECTATION.
Crampton said my name would be useful, and so I suppose I should do what
would best serve the cause, and put out of the question all
consideration of what may be thought of myself.
* * * * *
Miss Edge worth's novel of _Helen_, begun in 1830, was finished in the
summer of 1833, and read for family criticism, before being sent to the
press.
* * * * *
C.S. EDGEWORTH _to_ MRS. C.S. EDGEWORTH.
EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _May 27, 1833_.
After breakfast yesterday I had a stroll with Mrs. Edgeworth through
Maria's flower-garden. I wish you could see her peony tree: it is in the
very perfection of bloom, as indeed everything is here. After luncheon
dinner, the pony-carriage came round, but was refused by all: however,
as I was putting in execution my long-formed project of getting a ladder
and making the ladies go up into the sycamore-tree with me, we drove
that far. I fixed the ladder: I went up, and Fanny, Harriet, and Honora,
with a little hesitation, followed. They were all delighted with this
airy parlour, lined with the softest, thickest moss; natural seats with
backs, a delightful peep of the house, gay parterres and groves. It was
amusing, Mrs. Edgeworth's and Maria's surprise when called to from
above, as they passed in the carriage. Then we drove round Francis's new
walk through the Horse Park fields: beautiful. Then the ladies flocked
to their flower-beds, and I was accompanied by one or two in my rambles,
speaking to old workmen, and bribing new to banish the sparrows. After
tea much talking, and a little reading; Harriet read out a new story by
Mr. Brittain, who wrote _Hyacinth O'Gara_, and whom I knew at college.
This morning was everything that was exquisite, and I have since
breakfast had the gardener and heaps of workmen, and have been sawing
beech-branches, to my great satisfaction and the approval of others; and
in criticism I have found all agree with me, for _Helen_ is begun, and
at eleven we meet in the library; and Harriet has read aloud four
chapters. It is altogether in Maria's best style; and I think the public
will like it as hers, the return to an old friend.
_31st_.
I am sure you would like the cheerful fusion of this home party: each
star is worthy of separate observation for its serenity, brilliancy, or
magnitude; but it is as a constellation they claim most regard, linked
together by strong attachment, and moving in harmony through their
useful course. The herons sail about and multiply, the rookery is
banished, the reign of tulips now almost o'er, and peonies of many bells
are taking their place.
I am a stranger to any book but _Helen_, scarcely looking at the
newspaper, which Mr. Butler devours. Harriet has gone in the
pony-carriage for Molly, and she is to be driven by Francis's walk and
Maria's garden.
_June 1_.
Aunt Mary's [Footnote: Mrs. Mary Sneyd.] interest in _Helen_ is
delightful. Never did the whole family appear to more advantage; the
accordance of opinion, yet cheerfulness of discussion, is charming.
When the evening reading of _Helen_ was finished, Harriet and I walked
round the lawn; the owls shrieking and flitting by in pursuit of bats:
clouds in endless varieties in the unsettled heavens. The library, as we
looked in at it through the windows, with all its walls and pictures
lighted up by the lamps, looked beautiful. I thought how my father would
have been touched to look in as we did on his assembled family.
MARIA _to_ M. PAKENHAM EDGEWORTH, ESQ.