e who described him as 'an
eccentric man of genius, who took more pains to avoid fame than others do
to seek it,' and this description is fully borne out by the account she
gave of him in the offending passage which follows:--

"That Mrs. Fitzgerald is among the most vivid memories of my girlish
days. She and her husband were kind and intimate friends of my father
and mother. He was a most amiable and genial Irish gentleman, with
considerable property in Ireland and Suffolk, and a fine house in
Portland Place, and had married his cousin, a very handsome, clever,
and eccentric woman. I remember she always wore a bracelet of his
hair, on the massive clasp of which were engraved the words, '_Stesso
sangue_, _stessa sorte_.' I also remember, as a feature of sundry
dinners at their house, the first gold dessert and table ornaments
that I ever saw, the magnificence of which made a great impression
upon me; though I also remember their being replaced, upon Mrs.
Fitzgerald's wearying of them, by a set of ground glass and dead and
burnished silver, so exquisite that the splendid gold service was
pronounced infinitely less tasteful and beautiful. One member of her
family--her son Edward Fitzgerald--has remained my friend till this
day. His parents and mine are dead. Of his brothers and sisters I
retain no knowledge, but with him I still keep up an affectionate and
to me most valuable and interesting correspondence. He was
distinguished from the rest of his family, and indeed from most
people, by the possession of very rare intellectual and artistic
gifts. A poet, a painter, a musician, an admirable scholar and
writer, if he had not shunned notoriety as sedulously as most people
seek it, he would have achieved a foremost place among the eminent men
of his day, and left a name second to that of very few of his
contemporaries. His life was spent in literary leisure, or literary
labours of love of singular excellence, which he never cared to
publish beyond the circle of his intimate friends: Euphranor,
Polonius, collections of dialogues full of keen wisdom, fine
observation, and profound thought; sterling philosophy written in the
purest, simplest, and raciest English; noble translations, or rather
free adaptations of Calderon's two finest dramas, The Wonderful
Magician and Life's a Dream, and a splendid paraphrase of the
Agam