believe, present to her in every line she wrote. She never heard that he had even read it. He never married. I do not think Maria repented her refusal or regretted her decision. She was well aware that she could not have made him happy, that she would not have suited his position at the court of Stockholm, and that her want of beauty might have diminished his attachment. … The lessons of self command which she inculcates in her works were really acted upon in her own life. The resolution with which she devoted herself to her father and his family, and the industry with which she laboured at the writings which she thought were for the advantage of her fellow-creatures, were from the exertion or the highest principle."
After her father's death, Maria had to accomplish the difficult task of writing his life, and to make the task more arduous, she was suffering acutely from weak eyes. A visit to France with two of her younger sisters restored her to her usual good spirits and activity. She very characteristically observes:—"Certainly no people can have seen more of the world than we have done in the last three months. By seeing the world, I mean seeing varieties of characters and manners, and being behind the scenes in many different societies and families. The constant chorus as we drive home together is, 'How happy
