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From the Lite rary World.
A DAY WITH MARIA EDGEWORTH
A’Iate English steamer brought us the melan
chollv news of the death of Maria Edgeworth.—
There are few persons to whom the present gen
eration of men and women owes so. large a debt
of gratitude for pleasant reading as to her. Ihe
w riter is not sure whether “ Harry and Lucy” and
“ Simple Susan ” continue to be favorites w ith
children. Perhaps their place has been supplied
with something more “ improving .” “ Belinda,^
also, and “ Patronage,” and “ Castle Rack rent,
and “ Helen,” may not be sought for as of old at
the circulating libraries. More highly spiced pro
ductions, probably, cause them to seem insipid to
“ Young America.” There must be some readers
however, to whom the mere mention of these
books still awakens agreeable recollections, and
have found nothing in more modern fiction to take
their places. Such persons, the writer ventures
to think, will be interested in the description of a
visit he fad the privilege of paying several years
since at Edge wo rlhtown-House. He trusts that
he shall be acquitted of any impropriety in pub
lishing the details ot that visit. Common usage
has sanctioned similar statements in the case of
other distinguished authors, and in regard to Miss
Edgeworth, if the writer can convey to the public
a tithe of that deep respect for her character which
the interviews to he narrated produced in his own
mind, he knows that he shall he pardoned for
the liberty he is taking. It was early in the
morning of a July day, in the year 1830 (the reader
will allow me to use the first person singular)
when I left Dublin for Edgeworthtown, which lat
ter place lies fifty-three Irish miles distant from
the other in a northwesterly direction. On leaving
the city we passed the fine buildings erected for
the Law Courts, the Barracks, the Military Hospi
tal, and Phoenix Park. We saw at a distance the
spire of the Mad House in which Swift spent
some of the latter melancholy days of his life.—
Our road led us through Maynooth, where the
large Roman Catholic College is situated,and Mul
lingar. There was little, however, to interest
me on the way, excepting the beggars who sur
rounded the coach at every stopping place, and
were most importunate in their demands, whining,
blessing, flattering, pray : ng, and groaning in mel
ancholy chorus, The scene was a distressing
one, and only rendered tolerable by the reflection
that this was made a matter ot business with ma
ny of the poor creatures, and much of the grief
and affliction was put on for the occasion.
I reached the Inn at Edgeworthtown at half
past two in the afternoon, and immediately sent
a package with which I had been charged, to
gether with a letter of introduction and my card
to the authoress. Shortly afterwards the servant
returned bearing Mrs. and Miss Edgeworth’s com
pliments, and an invitation to visit them. I
walked forthwith to the house, which was at no
great distance from the Inn. I entered the
grounds by the gate at the Porter’s Lodge and
followed abroad gravelled drive, which wound
thro ugh. a beautiful lawn adorned by clumps of
elms. This brought me to the great Hall door
of the mansion, which was square in shape,
large and commodious, and painted of a vellow
ish color. It was partly surrounded by flower
gardens, and had on one side verandahs and trel
lis work, covered with clustering roses. A ser
vant received me at the entrance, and passing
through the hall, which was ornamented with
family portraits and specimens of natural history,
ushered me into the Library, where a number of
ladies were sitting engaged in writing and sew
ing. One of them rose and accosted me, and I
recognised Miss Edgeworth at once from descrip
tions of her which I had already received. She
was a very short and spare person, and appeared
to be between fifty and sixty years of age, although
she must have been at that time not less than sev
enty. Her face had no very striking features.—
It expressed, however, in a marked degree good
sense and benevolence. If there was anything
peculiar in her physyognomy it was the space
between the eyes, which was very broad and flat.
The ferehead also was broad, while the lower
part of the face about the mouth and chin was
quite narrow. Her e}’es were small, and of a col
or between grey and hazel. They assumed a
very pleasant expression when she smiled, and
half closed them. Her nose was nearly straight,
and mouth small and slightly compressed. She
wore a slate-colored gown and a plain cap, with
brown hair (a frizette, I thought) in small ends
around her forehead. If her appearance was or
dinary, her voice and manner were exceedingly
kind and engaging. She presented me to the
widow of her father, a lady of much dignity of
address, and who preserved a great deal of bloom,
although her hair was quite grey. Another elder
ly lady and two younger women were in the room,
who I afterwards learned were relatives of the
family. The apartment was large and well
lighted, and combined all the conveniences of a
library and the elegancies qf a lady’s parlor. —
There was a range of square pillars at the sides
where a partition had apparently been taken
down. In the recesses thus formed and else
where beside the walls well-filled book-cases ex
tended half-way to the ceiling, the spaces above
being occupied by oil-paintings and engravings.
Among them were likenesses of Ricando, the po
litical economist, Sir Walter Scott, Madame De
Stael, Talleyrand, Lord Longford, and Napoleon.
Tables covered with books, writing materials,
needle-work, and baskets of flowers, stood in dif
ferent parts of the room, and about the grate in
which a fire of peat was burning, large, easy-look
ing chairs were disposed. Everything wore an
ai r of comfort and refined taste, and it was at
once to be seen that the usual occupants of that
apartment devoted themselves to pursuits both ra
tional and delightful. Here it was, as Miss Edge
worth afterwards told me, that all her books
were written. She worked there, she said, sur
rounded by the different members of her family,
often reading to them what she had just before
composed, and receiving their corrections and
suggestions. And, indeed, it was the very place
in which one might suppose those elegant con
versations, so full of wit and common sense, which
abound in her novels, had been conceived. That
cheerful library-parlor, seemed to be the home of
all domestic virtues and graces. Nobody who
lived in it could be dull, or ungenial, or unhappy.
After luncheon, which was served in the di
ning room, a most interesting conversation took
place. Miss Edgeworth talked a great deal, and
all that she said was full of. practical good sense
and kindness of heart. The topics, at first, in
compliment to her guest, related principally to
America. Upon these subjects, particularly those
connected with government and literature, she
showed accurate information and liberal opinions.
She appeared Lobe familiar with ourbestauthors,
and to have a proper appreciation of their merits,
making discriminating remarks, I remember, re
specting Irving, Willis and Hoffman. We spoke
of Indian words and their pronunciation, and she
seemed pleased to be informed how Michigan, Ho
bomok, and other names were pronounced. This
led to the general subject of the Indians and their
wrongs, in connexion with which she read with
much feeling a few lines from Mrs. Sigourney,
whose name she accented improperly.
It happened that 1 had shortly before visited
Abbotsford. W hen this was alluded to, she spoke
in the most affectionate manner of Sir Walter
Scott, who died a few years previous, always
calling him her “ dear Sir Walter.” She de
scribed a tour to the Lakes of Killarney, upon
which she had accompanied him and his family.
When that interesting apartment at Abbotsford
was mentioned, in which the personal relics of the
poet —his hat, and stick, and clothes —are pre
served, the tears came to her eves, It was evi
dent she was a person of the most hearty good
feelings, and overflowing with love to her friends.
The conversation continued upon these and other
subjects until late in the afternoon, when I rose to
return to the Inn, upon which I was kindly asked
to remain and dine, and take a bed at the house.
My luggage was forwith removed thither, and I
found myselfin the possession of a most comfort
able apartment, in which, besides the usual furni
ture of a bed-room, were several easy sofas,
screens, and curious old mirrors.
At dinner my seat was next to Miss Edgeworth,
who talked all the time in the most agreeable
way. What she said was marked as before with
the strongest practical good sense and the most
cheerful and liberal views of mankind and the
world. She showed also an accurate knowledge
of many subjects which are usually considered
to be be}’ond the reach of female study. Much
of it was of an interrogative character, and re
quired of me considerable self-possession and ac
tivity. I was quite well satisfied if I could an
swer her rapid questions with tolerable correct
ness. There are persons who possess the power
of extracting from you all you know’ upon any
subject—who arrive at once at the pith of your
replies. She was one of those. If she agreed
with any opinion expressed, she carried it out and
illustrated it. If she dissented, she stated her
objections with such clearness and force, that 1
should not have desired to argue with her after
wards, unless her winning kindness of manner
had always given me courage to express my
views with the greatest frankness. I ean only
hope to give a spare and meagre outline of this
conversation —indeed, hardly more than an enu
meration of some of the topics discussed. But
even this may not be without interest, although
it will afford no idea whatever of the extensive
information, the warm hearted generosity, and
the vigorous and well-chosen language of the
distinguished authoress. She said she had never
known Hannah More, and much regretted she
had not. She had seen Mrs. Siddons act, but it
was in the latter part of that lady’s life, when
her physical powers were on the decline. She
spoke of the performance of Queen Catharine at
tllls period as extremely interesting, the part re
quiring an exhibition of mental affliction a little
blunted by bodily pain, which Mrs. Siddon’s
want of health enabled her to give with much ef
fect. She had known Sir James Mackintosh well,
and described his conversation as being of the
most superior character. He knew the best that
had ever been said or written upon any subject.
His memory, both retentive and recollective, was
most wonderful, and his modesty equally remark
ble. She wished he had not known so much of
other people that she might have known more
of Sir James. She had been well acquainted
with Watt, the improver of the Steam Engine.
The statue of him by Chantrey, with its deeply
wrinkled brow and expression of strong fixed
meditation was spoken of as the personification
of Abstraction. “ Yes,” said she, “of matbc
matics.” In this connection the wonders effected
by steam in America were alluded to, and she
gave to Mr. Fulton the credit of having first ap
plied it in navigation,
She showed me in the dining-room a portrait
of her father, for whose memory she seemed to
cherish the deepest veneration. When inquiry
was made concerning his well known talents for
mechanics, she pointed to the clock, which she
said was of his workmanship, and stated that the
tower of the village church was raised from the
ground by a contrivance of bis, and put in its
place in ten or fifteen minutes.
After dinner we went out upon) the verandah,
and then for the first time I ventured to speak par
ticularly of her own books. She seemed to be
gratified with the account of the warm reception
“ Helen,” had met in America. I asked about
“ Taking for Granted,” anew novel, which the
papers about that time promised from her pen.—
She said this report had been spread, she pre
sumed, by a friend, who bad seen a little of the
manuscript with that title. It was, however, un
finished, and she did not know when it would be
completed. I spoke of how much we weie led
to expect from its name, and when upon being
requested to state my conception of its meaning,
I answered that it was probably intended to show
the dangers of precipitancy in judgement and
opinion, she appeared to be pleased, and said
that was her meaning exactly, and requested if
any instances illustrative of this occurred to me,
that I would mention them, as she often derived
much proffit from such suggestions from her
friends. We afterwards went into the hall, where
she pointed out the portrait of her father’s uncle,
the Abbe Edgeworth, who attended Louis XVI,
upon the scaffold. “ This,” she said, “ was some
thing for the family to be proud of.” Here also
was a picture of her great-grandfather, in his le
gal robes, and one of an ancestor of hers, a La
dy Edgeworth, which represents her in the act of
making the sign of the cross, the same which
saved Cranallah Castle from the fury of a mob, as
related in the memoirs of Richard Lovel Edge
worth.
When we returned to the library lights were
brought in and the ladies commenced working,
Miss Edgeworth being engaged upon a muslin
cape, which sort of occupation, they said, she fol
lowed so much that the people were surprised
she found any time for writing. Tea was after
wards served, and a pleasant conversation main
tained until bed time. Everything went on in an
easy and quiet manner, so indicative of refine
ment and true politeness. Among all the mem
bers of this family the greatest harmony and af
fection seemed to exist, and 1 frequently observed
little acts and words which, although unimportant
in themselves, showed the constant influence of
these delightful qualities.
I was shown in the Library the next morning
at nine o’clock. Soon afterwards Miss Edgeworth
came in from the garden with a large straw bon
net on her head, and holding in her hands a bas
ket filled with flowers which she had just gathered.
They were wet with the rain, and having engaged
me to spread them out upon the floor, she retired
to prepare for breakfast. In a little while we
were all assembled at the meal, at which conver
sation flowed on in the same easy and unrestrained
manner as before. It turned at first upon Prison
Reform, and she seemed to have an accurate
knowledge of what had been effected in America
in this department. Negro slavery was then
mentioned, and upon this question she appeared
to have more enlightened and just views than
the English in general. Afterwards the subject
of her own works was again introduced, and in
answer to an inquiry if many of the characters
and circumstances narrated were real ? she said,
she did not remember to have drawn a charac
ter which was taken entirely from life. ‘Some in
cidents she had borrowed from true history. She
mentioned the relater of the story in “ Castle
Rackrent” as very much resembling an old
steward of the family. Churchill in “ Helen,”
she said, was made up from several fashionable
dinner s-out, whom she had met in London.—
Some of the incidents in the “ Contrast,” one of
the “ Popular'Tales” were real. The shutting
up of the wife in “ Qastle Rackrent” was also
done by an officer who resided some time ago in
the neighborhood. The story of the will, which
forms one of the most interesting portions of
“ Patronage,” was real, and occurred in the me
moirs of the Edgeworth family, as they had been
written out by her great-grandfather. Lady Day
enant was an imaginary personage. Boing in
terrupted here by an expression of great admira
tion for ffiat character, she seemed pleased, and
intimated that she felt more pride in the delinea
tion of it than in any she had ever drawn. Sim
ple Snsan,” she said, Sir Walter prononneed the
most pathetic of her tales, and one which drew
tears from him. In comparing domestic life in
England with that in America, she expressed the
idea that it must be much the same thin” in both
O
countries, and in this connexion spoke of the
rapid advancement of America in many depart
ments, and instanced the art of engraving. The
plates of our Annuals, she said, were infinitely
superior to the coarse prints of the Gentleman’s
Magazine, which in their day were so highly
prized. She also spoke of our reviews—which
she always read—the North American and Amer
ican Quarterly, which latter was then inexistence.
She preferred them as reviews to the English pub
lications, although their essays might be inferior
She said they gave her better notions of a book
and directed her what to read and what to on/
reading, more judiciously than the Edinburgh and
Quarterly. Something being said of the pofo;
cal bigotry of the English periodicals, and t} )ei ' r
mercenary devotion to the interests of publislu/
and booksellers, she remarked she had heard 0 f
this latfer charge, but from her own experien<> f .
knew nothing. She sent her books to Mr. Bentiy
and with the reviewing ol them she had no Con
n ex ion.
After breakfast we walked in the hall and
looked again at the family portraits. We exn;
ined that of the Lady making the Sign of th e
Cross, and also one of another Lady Edgeworth
who, although she was afraid of ghosts and f a l
ries, had sufficient presence of mind to take :i
lighted candle gently with her hands from a bar
rel of gunpowder, into which it had been stuck
by mistake during an attack upon her castle.—
Both these circumstances had been mentioned in
the life of Richard Edgeworth, and doubted in
the Reviews by ill-natured scribblers. To con
firm the truth of the statement, bis daughter
brought out for me to read an old volume of man
uscript, in her great-grandfather’s own hand, in
which these stories, with that of the will before
mentioned, and many other curious facts were
narrated. Besides the family portraits, there
was one of Mr. Day, the author of “ Sandford
and Merton.” There was also in the ball sped,
mens of birds and insects from America, carefully
preserved ; a bead chain from a mummy’s neck, a
box with a picture of the old tolbooth of Edin
burgh upon it, made from the wood of the door
of that prison, and several other curiosities.
The time now approached for me to take leave,
when Miss Edgeworth voluntarily offered to give
me letters to some friends of hers in England.—
Before sealing them she handed them to me to
read, and most gratefully do 1 recollect the kind
manner in which she had written of myself ami
of America. Perhaps no better proof can be
offered of the warm friendliness of Iter disposi
tion than this unexpected courtesy to a youn
man but recently from college, who could con
trtbute nothing to her intellectual gratification,
and whose chief claim upon her regard was the
introduction he had brought from a valued friend,
and his own most sincere respect and admira
tion for her character and writings.
The coach was to start for Dublin at two
o’clock, and shortly before that hour I left Edge
worthtown-House, most deeply impressed with
the quiet good sense, the extensive information,
the liberal views, the warm heart, and the unaf
fected manners of her who was its chief orna
ment, and whose presence now, alas I no lon
ger distinguishes it above all the hospitable
Homes of Ireland. W. 11.
Queen Elizabeth's Ambassador. —John Basilo
vvitz, the Czar of Russia, perceiving Sir Jeremy
Bowes, the pjubassador of Queen Elizabeth, with
his hat on in his presence, thus rebuked him :
“ Have you not heard, sir, of the person I have
punished for such an insult V”
He had in fact punished him very savagely, by
causing his hat to be nailed to his head.
Sir Jeremy 7 answered :
“Yes, sir; but I am the Queen of England’s
ambassador, who never yet stood bare-headed to
any prince whatever ; her I represent, and on her
justice I depend to do me right if I am insulted.”
“A brave fellow this,” replied the Czar, turn
ing to his nobles—“a brave fellow this, who thus
dare to act and talk for Iris sovereign’s honor;
which of you would do so for me ?”
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