in North Audley Street, and remember how speedily our confusion vanished, and we felt as if re-united to an old friend. In person she was very small, -smaller than Hannah More,-and with more than Hannah More's vivacity of manner; her face was pale and thin, her features irregular ; they may have been considered plain, even in youth; but her expression was so benevolent, her manner so entirely well bred,-partaking of English dignity and Irish frankness,-that you never thought of her, in reference either to plainness or beauty; she was all in all, occupied, without fatiguing the attention; charmed by her pleasant voice; while the earnestness and truth that beamed in her bright blue-very blue-eyes, made of value every word she uttered, her words were always well chosen; her manner of expression was graceful and natural; her sentences were frequently epigrammatic; she knew how to listen as well as to talk, and gathered information in a manner highly complimentary to the society of which, at the time, she formed a part; while listening to her, she continually recalled to us the story of the fairy whose lips dropped diamonds and pearls whenever they opened.

Miss Edgeworth was remarkably neat and particular in her dress; her feet and hands were so very small as to be quite child-like. We once took a shoe of hers to Melnotte's, in Paris, she having commissioned us to procure her some shoes there, and the people insisted that we must require them 'pour une jeune demoiselle.'

We call to mind her once fixing upon the evening of a St. Patrick's day to spend with us. Let us pause for a moment to recal to remembrance those who crowded together on that particular evening-to think of the many assembled to meet the Miss Edgeworth to whom they all felt they owed so much. But few years have passed; yet the 'many' can be addressed only as 'the dead,'

'Whom we know by the light they gave.'

We so well remember the child-like impatience of Lætitia Landon to see the author of Early Lessons,' and how the colour mounted to her cheek when Miss Edgeworth looked long and earnestly at her, and taking her cordially by the hand, said a few words, as kind as they were graceful. I have lost all my eloquence to-night,' observed the poetess to us. 'I

*

can only feel how superior that little woman is to every body else, and rejoice not to have been disappointed.' There was the brilliant and gentle Laman Blanchard,—the cautious yet fervent Allan Cunningham, -the burly and boisterous Ettrick Shepherd, whose meretricious fêteing in London was a sad contrast to his after suffering; the author of the Pleasures of Hope;' Miss Jewsbury, who, however cramped by sectarianism, was gifted with a loyal and lofty nature, and a noble genius, which, had her life been prolonged, would have won for her enduring fame; the excellent Mrs. Hofland, a model of women and of wives.-All these, and others, even dearer to the affections, have since passed away!

Maria Edgeworth was the daughter of Richard Lovell Edgeworth, the representative of an ancient and honourable English family, settled in Ireland during the reign of Elizabeth; his mother was an English lady, daughter of Lovell, recorder of London. Maria was his eldest child, by his first wife, Miss Elers, of Black Bowton in Oxfordshire, and in Oxfordshire Miss Edgeworth was born. Mr. Edgeworth's residence åbroad had enlarged a mind of great natural capacity; he did not feel disposed to let things go on in the wrong because they had been always so:' after his first wife's death, he brought his second wife (Honora Sneyd) and his daughter, Maria, then twelve years old, to Edgeworthstown, in the county Longford, and laboured with zeal, tempered by an extraordinary degree of patience, amongst a tenantry dreading change, and considering improvements as insults; † and this feeling at that time was by no means confined to the lower classes.'

We remember Miss Edgeworth being much amused by the compliment the Ettrick Shepherd paid that evening to poor Miss Landon-'I hae written mony bitter things aboot ye, but I'll do sae nae mair—I did nae think ye'd been sae bonny.'

Those who desire to ascertain the value and intelligence of this enterprising gentleman, who, in all good respects, was far beyond the age in which he lived, will be amply rewarded by the perusal of his Life, commenced by himself, and finished by his daughter. It is curious to note how many persons, unknown to themselves, have been working out ideas concerning education and other matters, which he originated, and which, in many instances, were at the time he promulgated them, rejected as visionary, or, at least, impracticable. The time was not come, but he foresaw it. He knew the future by his knowledge of the present and the past. His capacious mind was not content with mere speculative opinions, but when he had established a theory, he put it in practice; thus at an advanced age, which is supposed to require especial repose, he undertook the drainage of bogs, and was as anxiously engaged in

In the year 1842 it became a duty, as well as a pleasure, to pay our long-promised visit to Edgeworthstown.

From this mansion, it is almost needless to say, has issued so much practical good, not only to Ireland but to the whole civilised world, that it may be said to possess the greatest moral influence of any residence in the kingdom.

Edgeworthstown is in the county of Longford, some forty miles from Dublin, and at no great distance from the principal town of the county. It is, as will be seen, a plain edifice of no great antiquity, and built with reference less to style than to comfort.

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Although emphatically an Irish writer, Maria Edgeworth cannot be described as an Irishwoman. One fact in her career may therefore receive a word of comment; and it may be written without offence to the many great and distinguished authors, natives of Ireland, who in song and story have made its wrongs' immortal-Miss Edgeworth, who was never a party writer, was never an absentee. From the time of her arrival in Ireland, to the day of her death at the age of eighty-three, she was a resident upon the lands inherited by her family, where the influence of her example and her practical instruction extended to all within her reach.

Miss Edgeworth had so often described to us the family residence, that we could have recognised it without a previous entry to the neat and pretty village which skirts the plantations-looking to peculiar advantage, in the sunshine and sweetness of a June sunset. All we saw bore, as we had anticipated, the aspect of cleanliness, comfort, good order, prosperity, and contentment. There was no mistaking the fact that we were in the

absolute labour, as if he had been only five-and-twenty. His mechanical inventions have been acknowledged with due honour. Misunderstood as he occasionally was, he outlived much prejudice, and his children lived to see his memory duly honoured. His marrying Elizabeth Sneyd, after the death, and at the request of his second wife, Honora Sneyd, was at that time much opposed to the custom of our Church and of society. His fourth wife, the present Mrs. Edgeworth, was the daughter of a clergyman of the Established Church,—a lady of the highest honour and firmest Christian principles. When very young she undertook the duty of mother to Mr. Edgeworth's twelve children, by three wives, and added six to the number, all of whom loved and honoured her; those who remain value her as she deserves.

immediate neighbourhood of a resident Irish family, with minds to devise,

and hands to effect, every possible improvement within their control.

The

Edgeworthstown.

domain of Edgeworthstown is judiciously and abundantly planted; and as we drove up the avenue at evening, it was cheering to see lights sparkle in the windows, to feel the cold nose of the house-dog thrust into our hands as earnest of welcome, and, above all, pleasant to receive the warm greeting of Mrs. Edgeworth, and a high privilege to meet Miss Edgeworth in the library, the very room in which had been written her invaluable works.

We had not met, except during a brief space, for some years, but she was really in nothing changed; her voice, as light and happy, her laughter, as full of gentle and social mirth-her clear eyes, as bright and truthful and her countenance as expressive of goodness and lovingkindness, as they had ever been. She did not seem to us a day older than at our first meeting-indeed, it was impossible to consider her 'old' or aged' in any sense of the word; she had used Time so well that he returned the compliment.

The entrance-hall at Edgeworthstown was an admirable preface to the house and family; it was spacious, hung with portraits; here, a case of stuffed birds; there, another of curiosities; specimens of various kinds, models of various things, all well arranged and well kept, all capable of affording amusement or instruction; an excellent place it was for children to play in, for at every pause in their games their little minds would be led to question what they saw; a charming waiting-room it might have been, were it not that at Edgeworthstown no one was ever kept waiting; everything was as well timed as at a railway station.

The library at Edgeworthstown is by no means the stately solitary room that libraries generally are; it is large, spacious, and lofty, well stored with books, and embellished with those most valuable of all classes of prints, the suggestive.' It is also picturesque, having been added to, and supported by pillars so as to increase its breadth, and the beautiful lawn seen through the windows, embellished and varied by clumps of trees, imparts much cheerfulness to the exterior. If you look at the oblong table in the centre, you will see the rallying point of the family, who were generally grouped around it, reading, writing, or working; while Miss Edgeworth, only anxious upon one point,—that all in the house should do exactly as they liked, without reference to her,-sat in her own peculiar