stared. Both the ladies read and spoke
most of the modern languages, and were warm admirers of the Italian
poets, especially of Dante. Miss Ponsonby, somewhat taller than her
friend, was neither slender nor otherwise, but very graceful. Easy,
elegant, yet pensive, was her address; her voice, kind and low. A
face rather long than round, a complexion clear, but without bloom,
with a countenance whose soft melancholy lent it peculiar interest.
If her features were not beautiful, they were very attractive and
feminine. Though the pensive spirit within permitted not her dimples
to make her smile mirthful, they increased its sweetness, and,
consequently, her power of engaging the affections. We could see,
through the veil of shading reserve, that all the talents and
accomplishments which enriched the mind of Lady Eleanor, existed with
equal power in her charming friend. Such are the portraits drawn by
Miss Seward, of the two extraordinary women, who, in the bosom of
their deep retirement, were sought by the first characters of the
age, both as to rank and talents. To preserve that retirement from
too frequent invasion, they were obliged to be somewhat coy of
approach. Yet they were generous in a select hospitality; and when,
toward the end of their lives, they welcomed a coming guest, Miss
Martineau says it was a singular sight to see these ancient ladies,
in their riding habits, with their rolled and powdered hair, their
beaver hats, and their notions and manners of the last century.

When we consider their intellectual resources, their energy and
industry, their interludes of company and correspondence, we need not
be surprised at the assertion they made to one of their most intimate
visitors, that neither the long summer's day, nor winter's night, nor
weeks of imprisoning snows, had ever inspired one weary sensation,
one wish of returning to the world they had abandoned.

Anna Seward had so interested Lady Butler and Miss Ponsonby in the
character of her dear friend, Honora Sneyd, by the sonnet addressed
to her, which she showed them, by impassioned descriptions of her
loveliness, as well as by the celebrated poem on the fate of Major
Andre, that the two ladies were desirous of possessing a portrait of
the deceased beauty.

With great pains, Anna succeeded in obtaining for them a copy of what
was a perfect image of her, Romney's ideal picture of Serena in the
"Triumphs of Temper." Writing on it, "Such was Honora Sneyd,