_Jan, 29, 1800._
More precious to us than Arundelian marbles are letters from Arundel,
and after an interval of almost three months dear Sophy's letter was
most welcome. I have no complaints to make of you--_sorrow_ bit of right
have I to complain of you. Some time ago we took a walk to see the old
castle of Cranalagh, from which in the last Rebellion (but one) Lady
Edgeworth was turned out: part of it, just enough to swear by, remains
to this day, and with a venerable wig of ivy at top cuts a very
respectable figure; and, moreover, there are some of the finest laurels
and hollies there that I ever saw, and as fine a smell of a pigsty as
ever I smelt, and an arbor-vitae tree, of which I gathered a leaf, and
thought that I and my gloves should never for the remainder of our lives
get rid of the smell of bad apples, of which this same tree of life
smells. But I have not yet come to the thing I was going to say about
the castle of Cranalagh, viz.--for I love old-fashioned viz.--when we
got near the ruined castle, out comes a barking dog, just such another
as assailed us at the old castle near Black Castle, to which we walked
full fifteen years ago; the first walk I ever took with Sophy, and how
she got home without her shoe, to this hour I cannot comprehend. It was
this barking dog which brought you immediately to my mind, and if I have
given you too much of it you must forgive me. Now we are upon the
subject of old castles, do you remember my retailing to you, at second
hand, a description of my father's visit to the Marquis de la Poype's
old château in Dauphiny, with the cavern of bats and stalactites? A
little while ago my father received a letter in a strange hand, which I
copy for my aunt and you, as I think it will please you as it did us, to
see that this old friend of my father's remembers him with so much
kindness through all the changes and chances that have happened in
France. The letter is from the Marquis de la Poype, who addressed it to
the Abbé Edgeworth, in hopes that the Abbé could transmit it to my
father--the lines at the end are in the Abbé's own hand--the handwriting
of so great and good a man is a curiosity.
Before this reaches you my father will be in Dublin, he goes on Saturday
next to the call of the House for the grand Union business. Tell my aunt
that he means to speak on the subject on Monday. His sentiments are
unchanged: that the Union would be advantageous to all the parties
concerned, but that England has not any right to do to Ireland _good
against her will._
Will you tell me what means you have of getting parcels from London to
Arundel? because I wish to send to my aunt a few "Popular Tales," which
I have finished, as they cannot be wanted for some months by Mr. Johnson.
We have begged Johnson to send _Castle Rackrent_, [Footnote: Published
without the author's name in 1800]. I hope it has reached you: do not
mention to any one that it is ours. Have you seen _Minor Morals_, by
Mrs. Smith? There is in it a beautiful little botanical poem called the
"Calendar of Flora."
* * * * *
_Castle Rackrent_, the story of an Irish estate, as told by Thady, the
old steward, was first published anonymously in 1800. Its combination of
Irish humour and pathos, and its illustration of the national character,
first led Walter Scott to try his own skill in depicting Scottish
character in the same way. "If I could," he said to James Ballantyne,
"but hit Miss Edgeworth's wonderful power of vivifying all her persons,
and making them live as _beings_ in your mind, I should not be afraid."
With the publication of _Castle Rackrent_, which was intended to depict
the follies of fashionable life, and was speedily followed by _Belinda_
[Footnote: There is no doubt that _Belinda_ was much marred by the
alterations made by Mr. Edgeworth, in whose wisdom and skill his far
cleverer daughter had unlimited and touching confidence.] the Edgeworths
immediately became famous, and the books were at once translated into
French and German.
* * * * *
MARIA EDGEWORTH _to_ MISS SOPHY RUXTON.