’My father’s and Mrs. Edgeworth’s families were both numerous, and among such numbers, even granting the dispositions to be excellent and the understandings cultivated, the chances were against their suiting; but, happily, all the individuals of the two families, though of various talents, ages, and characters, did, from their first acquaintance, coalesce. . . .  After he had lost such a friend as Mr. Day . . . who could have dared to hope that he should ever have found another equally deserving to possess his whole confidence and affection?  Yet such a one it pleased God to give him—­and to give him in the brother of his wife.  And never man felt more strongly grateful for the double blessing.  To Captain Beaufort he became as much attached as he had ever been to Lord Longford or to Mr. Day.

’His father-in-law, Dr. Beaufort, was also particularly agreeable to him as a companion, and helpful as a friend.’

Consumption again carried off one of Edgeworth’s family:  his daughter Elizabeth died at Clifton in August 1800.

The Continent, which had been practically closed for some years to travellers, was open in 1802 at the time of the short peace, and Edgeworth gladly availed himself of the opportunity of mixing in the literary and scientific society in Paris, and of showing his wife the treasures of the Louvre—­treasures increased by the spoil of other countries.  The tour was arranged for the autumn, and Edgeworth was looking forward to visiting Dr. Darwin on the way, when he received a letter begun by the doctor, describing his move from Derby to the Priory, a few miles out of the town, and sending a playful message to Maria:  ’Pray tell the authoress that the water nymphs of our valley will be happy to assist her next novel.’

A few lines after, the pen had stopped; another hand added the sad news that Dr. Darwin had been taken suddenly ill with fainting fits:  he revived and spoke, but died that morning.  The sudden death of such an old and valued friend was a great shock to Edgeworth.

Some months later, his daughter mentions that, ’in passing through England, we went to Derby, and to the Priory, to which we had been so kindly invited by him who was now no more.  The Priory was all stillness, melancholy, and mourning.  It was a painful visit, yet not without satisfaction; for my father’s affectionate manner seemed to soothe the widow and daughters of his friend, who Were deeply sensible of the respect and zealous regard he showed for Dr. Darwin’s memory.’

CHAPTER 10

Mr. and Mrs. Edgeworth, with their daughters Maria and Charlotte, travelled through the Low Countries—­’a delightful tour,’ Maria writes—­and at length reached Paris, where they spent the winter 1802-3.  They soon got introductions, through the Abbe Morellet, into that best circle of society, ’which was composed of all that remained of the ancient men of letters, and of the most valuable of the nobility; not of those who had accepted of places from Buonaparte, nor yet of those emigrants who have been wittily and too justly described as returning to France after the Revolution, sans avoir rien appris, ou rien oublie.’ . . .  ‘We felt,’ Maria writes, ’the characteristic charms of Parisian conversation, the polish and ease which in its best days distinguished it from that of any other capital.