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Parker’s Drawing…room to be kept from silence by the efforts of
others； to Miss D。 at Lady D。’s Elbow； listening and talking with
smiling attention or solicitous eagerness； was very striking—and
very amusing—or very melancholy； just as Satire or Morality
might prevail。 Miss Denham’s Character was pretty well decided
with Charlotte。 Sir Edward’s required longer Observation。 He
surprised her by quitting Clara immediately on their all joining
and agreeing to walk； and by addressing his attentions entirely to
herself。—Stationing himself close by her； he seemed to mean to
detach her as much as possible from the rest of the Party and to
give her the whole of his Conversation。 He began； in a tone of
great Taste and Feeling； to talk of the Sea and the Sea shore—and
ran with Energy through all the usual Phrases employed in praise
of their Sublimity； and descriptive of the undescribable Emotions
they excite in the Mind of Sensibility。—The terrific Grandeur of
the Ocean in a Storm； its glassy surface in a calm； its Gulls and its
Samphire； and the deep fathoms of its Abysses； its quick
vicissitudes； its direful Deceptions； its Mariners tempting it in
Sunshine and overwhelmed by the sudden Tempest； All were
eagerly and fluently touched；—rather commonplace perhaps—but
doing very well from the Lips of a handsome Sir Edward；—and
she could not but think him a Man of Feeling—till he began to
stagger her by the number of his Quotations； and the
bewilderment of some of his sentences。—‘Do you remember；’ said
he； ‘Scotts’ beautiful Lines on the Sea？—Oh！ what a description
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they convey！—They are never out of my Thoughts when I walk
here。—That Man who can read them unmoved must have the
nerves of an Assassin！—Heaven defend me from meeting such a
Man un…armed。’—‘What description do you mean？’—said
Charlotte。 ‘I remember none at this moment； of the Sea； in either
of Scotts’ Poems。’—‘Do not you indeed？—Nor can I exactly recall
the beginning at this moment—But—you cannot have forgotten
his description of Woman。—
“Oh！ Woman in our Hours of Ease —”
Delicious！ Delicious！—Had he written nothing more； he would
have been Immortal。 And then again； that unequalled； unrivalled
address to Parental affection—
“Some feelings are to Mortals given
With less of Earth in them than Heaven” &c
But while we are on the subject of Poetry； what think you Miss H。
of Burns’s Lines to his Mary？—Oh！ there is Pathos to madden
one！—If ever there was a Man who felt； it was Burns。—
Montgomery has all the Fire of Poetry； Wordsworth has the true
soul of it—Campbell in his pleasures of Hope has touched the
extreme of our Sensations—“Like Angel’s visits； few and far
between。” Can you conceive any thing more subduing； more
melting； more fraught with the deep Sublime than that Line？—
But Burns—I confess my sense of his Pre…eminence Miss H。—If
Scott has a fault； it is the want of Passion。 Tender； Elegant；
Descriptive—but Tame。—The Man who cannot do justice to the
attributes of Woman is my contempt。—Sometimes indeed a flash
of feeling seems to irradiate him—as in the Lines we were
speaking of—“Oh！ Woman in our hours of Ease”—。 But Burns is
always on fire。—His Soul was the Altar in which lovely Woman sat
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enshrined； his Spirit truly breathed the immortal Incence which is
her Due。—’ ‘I have read several of Burns’ Poems with great
delight；’ said Charlotte as soon as she had time to speak； ‘but I am
not poetic enough to separate a Man’s Poetry entirely from his
Character；—and poor Burns’s known Irregularities； greatly
interrupt my enjoyment of his Lines。—I have difficulty in
depending on the Truth of his Feelings as a Lover。 I have not faith
in the sincerity of the affections of a Man of his Description。 He felt
and he wrote and he forgot。’ ‘Oh！ no no’—exclaimed Sir Edward in
an extasy。 ‘He was all ardour and Truth！—His Genius and his
Susceptibilities might lead him into some Aberrations—But who is
perfect？—It were Hyper…criticism； it were Pseudo…philosophy to
expect from the soul of high toned Genius； the grovellings of a
common mind。—The Coruscations of Talent； elicited by
impassioned feeling in the breast of Man； are perhaps
incompatible with some of the prosaic Decencies of Life；—nor can
you； loveliest Miss Heywood （speaking with an air of deep
sentiment）—nor can any Woman be a fair Judge of what a Man
may be propelled to say； write or do； by the sovereign impulses of
illimitable Ardour。’ This was very fine；—but if Charlotte
understood it at all； not very moral—and being moreover by no
means pleased with his extraordinary stile of compliment； she
gravely answered ‘I really know nothing of the matter。—This is a
charming day。 The Wind I fancy must be Southerly。’ ‘Happy；
happy Wind； to engage Miss Heywood’s Thoughts！’ She began to
think him downright silly。—His chusing to walk with her； she had
learnt to understand。 It was done to pique Miss Brereton。 She had
read it； in an anxious glance or two on his side—but why he should
talk so much Nonsense； unless he could do no better； was un…
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intelligible。—He seeme