health made it necessary to remove her from school, and she was brought to Edgeworthstown in 1782 by her father, from whom she was inseparable for the rest of his life. It was like coining to a new world, for the Ireland of that day resembled nothing of which she had heard, and she seems to have scanned it keenly. The habits, the feelings, the follies of the gentry of that day, now live only in her works; those of the peasantry are less changed, and them she studied with peculiar interest. Her father, whose views of the relation between landlord and tenant were far in advance of his time, was his own agent; and availing himself of this to train her to accurate habits of business and a knowledge of the people among whom she was to live, he made her assist him in his office and keep his accounts. Thus brought into contact with his numerous tenantry, she became familiar with their modes of expression, their impulses, their craft, their wir, and learned to feel and value their good qualities, while not blind to their evil ones. Her father alone understood her; their neighbours considered her shy and reserved. She did not come forward in company, and read much. At this time, however, she wrote the "Letters for Literary Ladies," though they were not published for several years, and she formed the plan of that delightful set of stories which, beginning with the "Parent's Assistant," and continued by "Early Lessons," concluded with "Harry and Lucy,"—stories which delight the old as well as the young. In "Castle Rackrent," which appeared without her name at the beginning of the nineteenth century, she was still more successful; its delineations are as sharp and true as photographs, and as carefully worked as a highly finished picture; so that, like Defoe's Plague or Scott's Waverley, it may almost claim to be a work of history rather than fiction. To its author, the best reward was its immediate effect in reforming the miserable state of society which it exposed; for love of Ireland, and intense desire for its improvement and happiness, were ruling principles of her life. The two series of moral and popular tales which followed it, may fairly rank with it as unrivalled in their kind, and her novels, from "Belinda" to "Helen," did not diminish the fame she had acquired. Of two others this can scarcely be asserted. The first—the "Essay on Practical Education"—treats of a subject which ranges far beyond her experience, or indeed that of any one person; even still it is the most difficult question of the day. The work is, however, full of instructive matter, and may be studied with advantage. The other, the "Memoirs" of her father, would not have been written by her, but at his express request. A child, especially one so devoted as she was, is not a fit biographer of a parent; restrained from doing full justice to his virtues by the dread of exaggeration, from bringing to light his faults or errors by filial duty and affection. The difficulty is increased when, as in the present instance, the subject of the narrative is himself the writer of its most eventful and interesting portion, for in this case the editor is precluded from applying to it the severe criticism which he would exert on his own work.
Mr. Edgeworth's death in 1817 broke up for a time the happy course of her existence; she felt his loss intensely, and during a few years, found it painful to resume her pursuits in which he had taken so deep an interest. Those years were passed in the society of friends whom her worth had won in England, Scotland, and France; among whom were many illustrious from intellect, many high in rank. Among the former may be named, not only Scott, Joanna Baillie, Rogers, Moore, and Dumont, but also such as Davy, Wollaston, Herschel, Playfair, Biot, Cuvier; for one of her remarkable characteristics was her love of science, and the sagacity and precision with which she caught up its results. The literary labours which even during this period she had never totally neglected, were fully resumed in 1823; but in the course of a few years they were again interrupted and disturbed by domestic cares and sorrows. Of these it is only possible to say, that they brought out in full light her noblest qualities, clear judgment, sound common sense, and devotion to duties, unclouded by any shadow of selfishness. Besides what she published, she had designed, and in some cases far advanced other works which, unfinished as they were, gave high promise; but in compliance with her wish, they were destroyed after her death. At the same time all her correspondence was returned to its authors, for she regarded as a breach of trust the practice which is now too general of publishing letters written in confiding friendship and open heart. Her health was always feeble, and more so with advancing years; but her conversation was as attractive as ever, and her mind as bright, till she was called away. May 22, 1849.
In the brief limits of this notice it is impossible to enter on any critical examination of her works, and they are too well known to make it necessary; but there are two points on which a few words may be permitted. It has been supposed that some of her characters are portraits of individuals; this is not the case, and she considered such a practice unfair and mischievous. The peculiar traits were collected from real life; but the form on which they were grouped was always imaginary. It may be added that the incidents in her tales which have been most sharply censured as improbable, are those which had a real existence. She has been severely arraigned for not introducing into her stories religious sentiments and phraseology, and it has even been inferred from this that she was not a christian. The last the writer knows to be untrue. She was a christian, if to believe in the divinity of Christ, to hope in him, and to regulate life according to his commands, give a title to that name. But she thought it irreverent and unseemly to make christianity the staple of a work of fiction; and she felt that the way in which our highest hopes and holiest aspirations are exhibited in religious novels, is far more likely to excite disgust or affectation than real piety. In this, no doubt, those who patronize such works will think she was mistaken; but this is certain, that while hundreds have acknowledged that they were turned from idleness and vice by her writings, not one instance can be produced where they even tended to evil.—T. R. R.
EDGEWORTH, Richard Lovell, was born in Bath in 1744. He was educated at Warwick, and entered Dublin university; but in 1761 left it for Oxford. He was a good classical scholar, but the bent of his mind was towards mechanics; to which was added educational science, when, after his father's death in 1770, he devoted himself to the improvement of his tenantry, and saw the gross deficiencies of the great mass of his countrymen. During a long life he was conspicuous as an admirable landlord, a just and fearless magistrate, ever active for the true interests of Ireland, but regarding with contempt the mock patriotism that looks only to popularity. He was four times married, and died on June 13, 1817. Mr. Edgeworth was a remarkable personage, excelling in all the accomplishments which belonged to a gentleman of the eighteenth century, but possessing with them the unusual gifts of a refined literary taste, and great mechanical talent. If not a "century" of his inventions, it would not be difficult to reckon decades of them; and some of them are in frequent use, though their origin is almost forgotten. We shall notice only a few of his inventions. 1. He not merely contrived, but worked a telegraph in 1767, long before the French. His instrument and his system of denoting words by numbers, and these by signs, was not improved on till electricity came into play. (Trans. R. I. Acad., vi., 1795.) 2. The "Cotton Counter," wheels of one hundred and one hundred and one driven by the same screw; contrived to record an aerial way-wiser, shown by his son to Dr, Wollaston, to whom it is often attributed. 3. An odometer, which steps the distance instead of rolling over it. (Society of Arts, 1768.) 4. A carriage which transports and lays its own way; he used it in reclaiming bog, and it would have been as successful in ordinary travelling had the locomotive then existed. 5. Measuring the resistance of air to different solids by attaching them to a revolving arm. (Phil. Trans. 1783.) 6. A door lock of remarkable simplicity and free action, in which sliding action is replaced by that of centres. 7. A clock whose train is a single wheel. In that of his observatory the scapement acted once a minute, in a turret clock every seven and a half minutes; both went extremely well and with scarcely any friction. 8. A dynamometer for carriages and ploughs. (Soc. Arts., 1771.) 9. An integrating one, which gives the mean effect of a variable draught; it has connected with the spring a small sluice which delivers water under a constant head. The quantity gives the mean aperture, 1816. 10. A cheap church spire, put together in the tower, then raised to its place. To those may be added his discovery of the power of springs to ease the draught of carriages. This was a favourite object of investigation through his whole life; and its prevalence now is owing to his writings and experiments. Besides various essays in scientific periodicals, and those works in which his daughter Maria shared, he published "Poetry Explained;" "Readings in Poetry and Primer;" "Professional Education;" "Application des Ressorts aux Charettes;" "Roads and Wheel Carriages."—T. R. R.
