’The person who made this singular address and eulogium was the celebrated dancer, Mr. Slingsby His testimony proves that my father did not overrate his powers as a dancer; but it was not to boast of a frivolous excellence that he told this anecdote to his children; it was to express his satisfaction at having, after the first effervescence of boyish spirits had subsided, cultivated his understanding, turned his inventive powers to useful objects, and chosen as the companions of his maturer years men of the first order of intellect.’

He also took the opportunity while in England of visiting his scientific friends—­Watt, Darwin, Keir, and Wedgwood; and it was now that his friendship began with Mr. William Strutt of Derby, with whom he became acquainted by means of Mr. Darwin.

It was about this time that he lost his old friend Lord Longford.  Maria says of him:  ’His services in the British navy, and his character as an Irish senator, have been fully appreciated by the public.  His value in private life, and as a friend, can be justly estimated only by those who have seen and felt how strongly his example and opinions have, for a long course of years, continued to influence his family, and all who had the honour of his friendship.  The permanence of this influence after death is a stronger proof of the sincerity of the esteem and admiration felt for the character of the individual than any which can be given during his lifetime.  I can bear witness that, in one instance, it never ceased to operate.  I know that on every important occasion of my father’s life, where he was called upon to judge or act, long after Lord Longford was no more, his example and opinions seemed constantly present to him; he delighted in the recollection of instances of his friend’s sound judgment, honour, and generosity; these he applied in his own conduct, and held up to the emulation of his children.’

Doubtless Edgeworth felt, as Charles Lamb expresses it:  ’Deaths overset one, and put one out long after the recent grief.  Two or three have died within the last two twelvemonths, and so many parts of me have been numbed.  One sees a picture, reads an anecdote, starts a casual fancy, and thinks to tell of it to this person in preference to every other; the person is gone whom it would have peculiarly suited.  It won’t do for another.  Every departure destroys a class of sympathies.  There’s Captain Burney gone!  What fun has whist now?  What matters it what you lead if you can no longer fancy him looking over you?  One never hears anything but the image of the particular person occurs with whom alone almost you would care to share the intelligence.  Thus one distributes oneself about, and now for so many parts of me I have lost the market.’

The departure of Edgeworth and his family from Clifton in the autumn of 1793 was hastened by the news that disturbances were breaking out in Ireland.  Dr. Beddoes of Clifton, who was courting Edgeworth’s daughter Anna, had to console himself with the permission to follow her to Ireland in the spring, where they were married at Edgeworth Town in April 1794.