“I hear sad tidings of my much loved, more loved even than admired, friend Sir Walter Scott. His body lives and is likely to live some time—his mind oh such a mind! is gone forever. His temper too which was most charming and most amiable is changed by disease. Mrs. Lockhart that daughter who so admires him is more to be pitied than words can express. His mind was a little revived by the first return to Abbotsford—but sunk again—Of all afflictions surely this is the worst that friends can have to endure—death a comparative blessing.
“I find the love of garden grow upon me as I grow older more and more. Shrubs and flowers and such small gay things, that bloom and please and fade and wither and are gone and we care not for them, are refreshing interests, in life, and if we cannot say never fading pleasures, we may say unreproved pleasures and never grieving losses.
“I remember your history of the bed of tulips or anemones which the Chief Justice fancied he should fancy and which you reared for him and he walked over without knowing.
“Does your taste for flowers continue. We have some fine carnations—if you could fancy them. Some way or other they should get to you. If not by a flying carpet by as good a mode of conveyance or better—the frank of Sir W. Gapes or Right Hon. C. G. S. Stanley.
“To either of which direct for me anything of whatever size or weight (barring the size of the house or so) and it will be conveyed to me swift and sure as if the African Magician himself carried the same.
“I more much more wish to hear from you my dear Mrs. Bushe, and to know from your own self how you are going on than to have all the braided bags however pretty that could be given to me. That is the truth of the matter. So pray write to me and tell me all that concerns you—for
“I am very sincerely and affectionately
“Your little old friend
“Maria Edgeworth.
“Will you present my affectionate respects to the Chief Justice. I wish his country were more worthy of him—or rather I wish his country were allowed to be and to show itself more worthy of such a Chief Justice and such a private character as his.
“I am convinced that if the Scotch maxim of Let well alone were pursued in Ireland we should do well enough. But to the rage of obtaining popularity in a single individual must the peace of a country be sacrificed.[5]
“What can the heart of such a man be made of? And however great his talents how infinitely little and nauseously mean must his Mind be!