I have delayed a few days writing to you in the expectation of the
arrival of two frankers to send an extract from Dr. Holland's last
letter, which will, I hope, entertain you as much as it entertained us.
I shall long to hear of our good friend Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton's visit
to Black Castle.
We have every reason to be in great anxiety at this moment about a
certain trunk containing all our worldly _duds_, and "Patronage" to
boot, but still I have not been able to work myself into any fears about
it, though it is a month since we ought to have seen it, nor have we
heard any news of it. In the meantime, as I cannot set about revising
"Patronage," I have begun a new series of _Early Lessons_ [Footnote: The
second parts of _Frank, Rosamond_, and _Harry and Lucy._] for which many
mothers told me they wished. I feel that I return with fresh pleasure to
literary work from having been so long idle, and I have a famishing
appetite for reading. All that we saw in London, I am sure I enjoyed
while it was passing as much as possible, but I should be very sorry to
live in that whirling vortex, and I find my taste and conviction
confirmed on my return to my natural friends and my dear home.
I am glad that some of those who showed us hospitality and kindness in
England should have come so soon to Ireland, that we may have some
little opportunity of showing our sense of their attentions. Lord
Carrington, who franks this, is most amiable and benevolent, without any
species of pretension, thinking the best that can be thought of
everything and everybody. Mr. Smith, his son, whom we had not seen in
London, accompanies him, and his tutor, Mr. Kaye, a Cambridge man, and
Lord Gardner, Lord Carrington's son-in-law, suffering from the gouty
rheumatism, or rheumatic gout--he does not know or care which: but
between the twitches of his suffering he is entertaining and agreeable.
We have just seen a journal by a little boy of eight years old, of a
voyage from England to Sicily: the boy is Lord Mahon's son, Lord
Carrington's grandson. [Footnote: Philip Henry, afterwards fifth Earl
Stanhope, the historian.] It is one of the best journals I ever read,
full of facts: exactly the writing of a child, but a very clever child.
It is peculiarly interesting to us from having seen Dr. Holland's
letters from Palermo. Lord Mahon says that the alarm about the plague at
Malta is much greater than it need be--its progress has been stopped: it
was introduced by a shoemaker having, contrary to law and reason,
surreptitiously brought some handkerchiefs from a vessel that had not
performed quarantine. You will nevertheless rejoice that Dr. Holland did
not go to Malta. How you will regret the loss of the portmanteau of
which that vile Ali Pasha robbed him.
Mr. Fox dined with us to-day, and was very agreeable. Lord Carrington
and his travelling companions were at Farnham, where they were most
hospitably received. They had no letters of introduction or intention of
going there; but, finding a horrid inn at Cavan, they applied for
charity to a gentleman for lodging. The gentleman took them to walk in
Lord Farnham's grounds. Lord and Lady Farnham saw and invited them to
the house, and they are full of admiration and almost affection, I
think, for Lord and Lady Farnham: they are so charmed by their
hospitality, their goodness to the poor, their care of the young Foxes,
their magnificent establishment, their neat cottages for their tenants,
and, as Lord Gardner sensibly said, "their judicious economy in the
midst of magnificence."
_August 9._
I like Mrs. Elizabeth Hamilton better than ever upon further
acquaintance. She is what the French would call _bonne à vivre_: so
good-humoured, so cheerful, so little disposed to exact attention or to
take an authoritative tone in conversation, so ready to give everybody
their merits, so indulgent for the follies and frailties, and so hopeful
of the reformation of even the faults and vices of the world, that it is
impossible not to respect and love her. She wins upon us daily, and
mixes so well with this family, that I always forget she is a stranger.
Lady Davy is in high glory at this moment, introducing Madame de Staël
everywhere, enjoying the triumph and partaking the gale. They went down,
a delightful party, to Cobham--Madame de Staël, Lady Davy, Lord Erskine,
Rogers, etc.
Have you heard that Jeffrey, the reviewer, is gone to America in pursuit
of a lady, or, as some say, to take possession of an estate left to him
by an uncle: he is to be back in time for the _Edinburgh Review_ in
September!
_August 19._
Lord and Lady Lansdowne came to us on Tuesday. Mr. Greenough comes on
Saturday, and after that I think we shall get to Black Castle. Lord
Longford came yesterday, and though he is not, you know, exuberant in
praise, truly says Lord and Lady Lansdowne are people who must be
esteemed and liked the more they are known.
Mr. Forbes, just returned from Russia, has this moment come, and is
giving a most interesting account of Petersburgh and Moscow: give me
credit for retiring to finish this letter. My father is calling,
calling, calling.
_Nov. 19._
Last night a letter came from Lady Farnham, announcing Francis Fox's
marriage, and naming next Monday for us to go to Farnham. We went last
Monday to a play at Castle Forbes, or rather to three farces--"Bombastes
Furioso," "Of Age To-morrow," and "The Village Lawyer," taken from the
famous _Avocat Patelin_: the cunning servant-boy shamming simplicity was
admirably acted by Lord Rancliffe.
Tell me whether you have seen Madame de Staël's _Essai sur la Fiction_,
prefixed to Zulma, Adelaide, and Pauline--the essay is excellent: I
shall be curious to know whether you think as I do of Pauline. Madame de
Staël calls Blenheim "a magnificent tomb: splendour without, and the
deathlike silence of ennui within." She says she is very proud of having
made the Duke of Marlborough speak four words. At the moment she was
announced he was distinctly heard to utter these words: "Let me go
away." We have just got her _Allemagne._ We have had great delight in
Mrs. Graham's _India_,--a charming woman, writing, speaking, thinking,
or feeling.
_Nov. 25._
A letter from Lady Romilly--so easy, so like her conversation. All agree
that Madame de Staël is frankness itself, and has an excellent heart.
During her brilliant fortnight at Bowood--where, besides Madame de
Staël, her Albertine, M. de Staël, and Count Palmella, there were the
Romillys, the Macintoshes, Mr. Ward, Mr. Rogers, and M. Dumont--if it
had not been for chess-playing, music, and dancing between times, poor
human nature never could have borne the strain of attention and
admiration.
_Jan. 1, 1814._
Hunter has sent a whole cargo of French translations--_Popular Tales_,
with a title under which I should never have known them, _Conseils à mon
Fils! Manoeuvring: La Mère Intrigante; Ennui_--what can they make of it
in French? _Leonora_ will translate better than a better thing. _Emilie
de Coulanges_, I fear, will never stand alone. _L'Absent, The
Absentee_,--it is impossible that a Parisian can make any sense of it
from beginning to end. But these things teach authors what is merely
local and temporary. _Les deux Griseldis de Chaucer et Edgeworth_; and,
to crown all, two works surreptitiously printed in England under our
name, and which are _no better than they should be._
Pray read _Letters to Sir James Macintosh on Madame de Staël's
Allemagne._ My mother says it is exactly what you would have written: we
do not know who is the author.
_Jan. 25._
To-day it began to thaw, and thawed so rapidly that we were in danger of
being flooded, wet pouring in at all parts, and tubs, and jugs, and
pails, and mops running about in all directions, and voices calling, and
avalanches of snow thrown by arms of men from gutters and roofs on all
sides, darkening windows, and falling with thundering noise.
We have been charmed with a little French play, _Les deux Gendres._ I
wish you could get it, and get Mr. Knox to read it to you: he is still
blocked up by the snow at Pakenham Hall.
We have had an entertaining letter, giving an account of a gentleman who
is now in England, a native of Delhi. He practised as an advocate in the
native courts of Calcutta, from Calcutta to Prince of Wales' Island, and
thence to London, and is now Professor of Oriental Languages at
Addiscombe. He was at Dr. Malkins': Mrs. Malkin offered him coffee: he
refused, and backed. "Not coffee in the house of Madam-Doctor. I take
coffee to keep awake; no danger of being drowsy in the house of
Madam-Doctor." He was at a great ball where Lord Cornwallis was
expected, and he said he would go to him and "bless his father's memory
for his conduct in India."
Poor old Robin Woods is very ill, and he has a tame robin that sits on
his foot, and hops up for crumbs. One day that I went in, when they were
at dinner with a bowl of potatoes between them, I said "How happy you
two look!" "Yes, miss, we were that every day since we married."
_To_ MRS. RUXTON.
15 BAGGOT STREET, [Footnote: Mr. and Mrs. Sneyd Edgeworth's house in
Dublin.] DUBLIN,
_March 1814._
Here we are: arrived at three o'clock: found Henrica looking very well.
Such a nice, pretty, elegant house! and they have furnished it so
comfortably. It is delightful to see my father here; he enjoys himself
so much in his son's house, and Sneyd and Henrica are so happy seeing
him pleased with everything. Lady Longford has been here this morning;
told us Sir Edward Pakenham was so fatigued by riding an uneasy horse at
the battle of Vittoria, he was not able to join for four days. A buckle
of Lord Wellington's sword-belt saved him: he wrote four times in one
week to Lady Wellington, without ever mentioning his wound. I long for
you to see Henrica; she is so kind, and so well-bred and easy in her
manners.
* * * * *
In April Mr. Edgeworth had a dangerous illness. He was just out of
danger, when, late at night on the 10th of May, his son Lovell arrived
from Paris, liberated by the peace after eleven years' detention.
* * * * *
MARIA EDGEWORTH _to_ MRS. RUXTON.