The Life And Letters Of Maria Edgeworth, Vol. 1 by Maria Edgeworth

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THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF

MARIA EDGEWORTH

VOL. I

Edited By

AUGUSTUS J.C. HARE

PREFACE

In her later years Miss Edgeworth was often asked to write a
biographical preface to her novels. She refused. "As a woman," she said,
"my life, wholly domestic, can offer nothing of interest to the public."
Incidents indeed, in that quiet happy home existence, there were none to
narrate, nothing but the ordinary joys and sorrows which attend every
human life. Yet the letters of one so clear-sighted and sagacious--one
whom Macaulay considered to be the second woman of her age--are
valuable, not only as a record of her times, and of many who were
prominent figures in them: but from the picture they naturally give of a
simple, honest, generous, high-minded character, filled from youth to
age with love and goodwill to her fellow-creatures, and a desire for
their highest good. An admirable collection of Miss Edgeworth's letters
was printed after her death by her stepmother and lifelong friend, but
only for private circulation. As all her generation has long since
passed away, Mr. Edgeworth of Edgeworthstown now permits that these
letters should be read beyond the limits of the family circle. An editor
has had little more to do than to make a selection, and to write such a
thread of biography as might unite the links of the chain.

AUGUSTUS J.C. HARE.

MARIA EDGEWORTH

In the flats of the featureless county of Longford stands the large and
handsome but unpretentious house of Edgeworthstown. The scenery here has
few natural attractions, but the loving care of several generations has
gradually beautified the surroundings of the house, and few homes have
been more valued or more the centre round which a large family circle
has gathered in unusual sympathy and love. In his _Memoirs_, Mr.
Edgeworth tells us how his family, which had given a name to Edgeworth,
now Edgeware, near London, came to settle in Ireland more than three
hundred years ago. Roger Edgeworth, a monk, having taken advantage of
the religious changes under Henry VIII., had married and left two sons,
who, about 1583, established themselves in Ireland. Of these, Edward,
the elder, became Bishop of Down and Connor, and died without children;
but the younger, Francis, became the founder of the family of
Edgeworthstown. Always intensely Protestant, often intensely
extravagant, each generation of the Edgeworth family afterwards had its
own picturesque story, till Richard Edgeworth repaired the broken
fortunes of his house, partly by success as a lawyer, partly by his
marriage, in 1732, with Jane Lovell, daughter of a Welsh judge.

Their eldest son, Richard Lovell Edgeworth, was born in 1744, and
educated in his boyhood at Drogheda School and Dublin University.
Strong, handsome, clever, ingenious, and devoted to sports of every
kind, he was a general favourite. But his high spirits often led him
into scrapes. The most serious of these occurred during the festivities
attendant on his eldest sister's marriage with Mr. Fox of Fox Hall, at
which he played at being married to a young lady who was present, by one
of the guests dressed up in a white cloak, with a door-key for a ring.
This foolish escapade would not deserve the faintest notice, if it had
not been seriously treated as an actual marriage by a writer in the
_Quarterly Review._

In 1761 Richard Edgeworth was removed from Dublin to Corpus Christi
College at Oxford. There he arrived, regretting the gaieties of Dublin,
and anxious to make the most of any little excitements which his new
life could offer. Amongst the introductions he brought with him was one
to Mr. Paul Elers, who, himself of German extraction, had made a
romantic marriage with Miss Hungerford, the heiress of Black Bourton in
Oxfordshire. Mr. Elers honourably warned Mr. Edgeworth, who was an old
friend of his, that he had four daughters who were very pretty, and that
his friend had better be careful, as their small fortunes would scarcely
fit one of them to be the wife of his son. But the elder Mr. Edgeworth
took no notice--Richard was constantly at Black Bourton; and in 1763,
being then only nineteen, he fled with Miss Anna Maria Elers to Gretna
Green, where they were married. Great as was Mr. Edgeworth's
displeasure, he wisely afterwards had the young couple remarried by
license.

The union turned out unhappily. "I soon felt the inconveniences of an
early and hasty marriage," wrote the bridegroom; "but, though I heartily
repented my folly, I determined to bear with firmness and temper the
evil which I had brought on myself." His eldest child, Richard, was born
before he was twenty; his second, Maria, when he was twenty-four. Though
he became master of Edgeworthstown by the death of his father in 1769,
he for some years lived chiefly at Hare Hatch, near Maidenhead. Here he
already began to distract his attention from an ungenial home by the
endless plans for progress in agriculture and industry, and the
disinterested schemes for the good of Ireland, which always continued to
be the chief occupation of his life. It was his inventive genius which
led to his paying a long visit to Lichfield to see Dr. Darwin. There he
lingered long in pleasant intimacy with the doctor and his wife, with
Mr. Wedgwood, Miss Anna Seward--"the Swan of Lichfield"--and still more,
with the eccentric Thomas Day, author of _Sandford and Merton_, who
became his most intimate friend, and who wished to marry his favourite
sister Margaret, though she could not make up her mind to accept him,
and eventually became the wife of Mr. Ruxton of Black Castle. With Mrs.
Seward and her daughters lived at that time--partly for educational
purposes--Honora Sneyd, a beautiful and gifted girl, who had rejected
the addresses of the afterwards famous Major André, and who now also
refused those of Mr. Day. "In Honora Sneyd," wrote Mr. Edgeworth, "I saw
for the first time in my life a woman that equalled the picture of
perfection existing in my imagination. And then my not being happy at
home exposed me to the danger of being too happy elsewhere." When he
began to feel as if the sunshine of his life emanated from his
friendship with Miss Sneyd, he was certain flight was the only safety.
So leaving Mrs. Edgeworth and her little girls with her mother, he made
his escape to France, only taking with him his boy, whom he determined
to educate according to the system of Rousseau. Then, for two years, he
remained at Lyons, employing his inventive and mechanical powers in
building bridges.

Meantime, the early childhood of Maria Edgeworth, who was born, 1st
January 1767, in the house of her grandfather, Mr. Elers, at Black
Bourton, was spent almost entirely with relations in Oxfordshire, or
with her maternal great-aunts, the Misses Blake, in Great Russell Street
in London. It was in their house that her neglected and unloved
mother--always a kind and excellent, though a very sad woman--died after
her confinement of a third daughter (Anna) in 1773. On hearing of what
he considered to be his release, Mr. Edgeworth hurried back at once to
England, and, before four months were over, he was married to Miss
Honora Sneyd, whose assent to so hasty a marriage would scarcely prepare
those who were unacquainted with her for the noble, simple, and faithful
way in which she ever fulfilled the duties of a wife and stepmother. The
son of the first marriage, Richard Edgeworth, went, by his own choice,
to sea, but the three little girls, Maria, Emmeline, and Anna, returned
with their father and stepmother to Edgeworthstown, where they had a
childhood of unclouded happiness.

In 1775 Maria Edgeworth, being then eight years old, was sent to a
school at Derby, kept by Mrs. Lataffiere, to whom she always felt much
indebted, though her stepmother, then in very failing health, continued
to take part in her education by letter.

MRS. HONORA EDGEWORTH _to_ MARIA.

BEIGHTERTON, NEAR SHIFFNALL,

_Oct. 10, 1779._

I have received your letter, and I thank you for it, though I assure you
I did not expect it. I am particularly desirous you should be convinced
of this, as I _told_ you I would write first. It is in vain to attempt
to please a person who will not tell us what they _do_ and what they do
_not_ desire; but as I tell you very fully what I think may be expected
from a girl of your age, abilities, and education, I assure you, my dear
Maria, you may entirely depend upon me, that as long as I have the use
of my understanding, I shall not be displeased with you for omitting
anything which I had before told you I did not expect. Perhaps you may
not quite understand what I mean, for I have not expressed myself
clearly. If you do not, I will explain myself to you when we meet; for
it is very agreeable to me to think of conversing with you as my equal
in every respect but age, and of my making that inequality of use to you
by giving you the advantage of the experience I have had, and the
observations I have been able to make, as these are parts of knowledge
which nothing but time can bestow.

* * * * *

In the spring of 1780 Mrs. Honora Edgeworth died of consumption, leaving
an only son, Lovell, and a daughter, Honora. Mr. Edgeworth announced
this--which to her was a most real sorrow--to his daughter Maria in a
very touching letter, in which he urges her to follow her lost
stepmother's example, especially in endeavouring to be "amiable,
prudent, and _of use;_" but within eight months he married again. Mrs.
Honora Edgeworth, when dying, had been certain that he would do so, and
had herself indicated her own sister Elizabeth as the person whose
character was most likely to secure a happy home to him and his
children. So, with his usual singularity, though he liked her less than
any of her other sisters, and though he believed her utterly unsuited to
himself, he followed the advice which had been given, and in spite of
law and public opinion, Elizabeth Sneyd became the third Mrs. Edgeworth
within eight months of her sister's death.

* * * * *

Nothing (wrote Mr. Edgeworth) is more erroneous than the common belief
that a man who has lived in the greatest happiness with one wife will be
the most averse to take another. On the contrary, the loss of happiness
which he feels when he loses her necessarily urges him to endeavour to
be again placed in the situation which constituted his former felicity.

I felt that Honora had judged wisely and from a thorough knowledge of my
character, when she advised me to marry again as soon as I could meet
with a woman who would make a good mother to my children, and an
agreeable companion to me. She had formed an idea that her sister
Elizabeth was better suited to me than any other woman, and thought I
was equally suited to her. But, of all Honora's sisters, I had seen the
least of Elizabeth.

* * * * *

Mrs. Elizabeth Edgeworth proved herself worthy of her sister's
confidence. She was soon adored by her stepchildren, and her conduct to
them was in all respects maternal. Maria at this time was removed from
Bath to the school of Mrs. Davis, in Upper Wimpole Street, London, where
she had excellent masters. Here her talent as an improvisatrice was
first manifested in the tales she used to tell to her companions in
their bedroom at night. She also, by his desire, frequently wrote
stories and sent them for her father's criticism and approval. During
holidays which she often spent with his old friend Mr. Day at Anningsly,
she benefited by an admirable library and by Mr. Day's advice as to her
reading.

In 1782 Mr. and Mrs. Edgeworth returned to Ireland, taking the whole
family with them. Maria was now fifteen, and was old enough to be
interested in all the peculiarities of the Irish as contrasted with the
English character, soon showing such natural aptitude for dealing with
those around her, that her father entrusted her with all his accounts,
and practically employed her as his agent for many years. Thus she
obtained an insight into the lives and characters of her humbler
neighbours, which was of inestimable value to her, when afterwards
writing her sketches of Irish life. She already began to plan many
stories, most of which were never finished. But Mr. Edgeworth
discouraged this. In the last year of her life Miss Edgeworth wrote: "I
remember a number of literary projects, if I may so call them, or
_aperçus_ of things which I might have written if I had time or capacity
so to do. The word _aperçu_ my father used to object to. 'Let us have
none of your _aperçus_, Maria: either follow a thing out clearly to a
conclusion, or do not begin it: begin nothing without finishing it.'"

Building and planting, alterations and improvements of every kind at
Edgeworthstown were at once begun by Mr. Edgeworth, but always within
his income. He also made two rules: he employed no middlemen, and he
always left a year's rent in his tenants' hands. "Go before Mr.
Edgeworth, and you will surely get justice," became a saying in the
neighbourhood.

* * * * *

Some men live with their families without letting them know their
affairs (wrote Miss Edgeworth), and, however great may be their
affection and esteem for their wives and children, think that they have
nothing to do with business. This was not my father's way of thinking.
On the contrary, not only his wife, but his children, knew all his
affairs. Whatever business he had to do was done in the midst of his
family, usually in the common sitting-room; so that we were intimately
acquainted, not only with his general principles of conduct, but with
the minute details of their everyday application. I further enjoyed some
peculiar advantages: he kindly wished to give me habits of business; and
for this purpose allowed me, during many years, to assist him in copying
his letters of business, and in receiving his rents.

* * * * *

With the younger children Mr. Edgeworth's educational system was of the
most cheerful kind; they were connected with all that was going on, made
sharers in all the occupations of their elders, and not so much taught
as shown how best to teach themselves. "I do not think one tear per
month is shed in this house, nor the voice of reproof heard, nor the
hand of restraint felt," wrote Mr. Edgeworth to Dr. Darwin. Both in
precept and practice he was the first to recommend what is described by
Bacon as the experimental mode of education. "Surely," says Miss
Edgeworth, "it would be doing good service to bring into a popular form
all that metaphysicians have discovered which can be applied to practice
in education. This was early and long my father's object. The art of
teaching to invent--I dare not say, but of awakening and assisting the
inventive power by daily exercise and excitement, and by the application
of philosophic principles to trivial occurrences--he believed might be
pursued with infinite advantage to the rising generation."

Maria Edgeworth found very congenial society in the family of her
relation, Lord Longford, at Pakenham, which was twelve miles from
Edgeworthstown, and in that of Lord Granard, at Castle Forbes, nine
miles distant. Lady Granard's mother, Lady Moira, full of wit and
wisdom, and with great nobility of character, would pour out her rich
stores of reminiscence for the young girl with ceaseless kindness. But
more than any other was her life influenced, helped, cheered, and
animated by the love of her father's sister Margaret, Mrs. Ruxton, the
intimate friend and correspondent of forty-two years, whose home, Black
Castle, was within a long drive of Edgeworthstown. Mrs. Ruxton's three
children--Richard, Sophy, and Margaret--were Maria Edgeworth's dearest
companions and friends.

The great love which Miss Edgeworth always felt for children was tried
and developed to its fullest extent in the ever increasing family
circle. Mrs. Elizabeth Edgeworth added nine more brothers and sisters to
the group of six which already existed; the eldest of them, Henry, born
in 1782, was entrusted to Maria's especial care.

* * * * *

MARIA _to_ MISS CHARLOTTE SNEYD.

EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Dec. 9, 1787._

I think, my dear Aunt Charlotte, I did not know till Henry returned to
us after his six weeks' absence, how very agreeable even a child of his
age can make himself, but I am sure that his journey has been productive
of so much pleasure to me from the kindness and approbation you have
shown, and has left on my mind so full a conviction of your skill in the
art of education, that I should part with Henry again to-morrow with
infinitely more security and satisfaction than I did two months ago. I
was really surprised to see with what ease and alacrity little Henry
returned to all his former habits and occupations, and the very slight
change that appeared in his manner or mind; nothing seemed strange to
him in anything, or anybody about him. When he spoke of you to us he
seemed to think that we were all necessarily connected in all our
commands and wishes, that we were all one _whole_--one great polypus
soul. I hope my father will tell you himself how much he liked your
letter, "the overflowings of a full mind, not the froth of an empty
one."

* * * * *

In 1790 the family group was first broken by the death from consumption,
at fifteen, of Honora, the beautiful only daughter of Mrs. Honora
Edgeworth.

* * * * *

MARIA EDGEWORTH _to_ MRS. RUXTON.

EDGEWORTHSTOWN, _Feb. 11, 1790._

Your friendship, my dear Aunt Ruxton, has, I am sure, considerably
alleviated the anguish of mind my father has had to feel, and your
letter and well-deserved praise of my dear mother's fortitude and
exertion were a real pleasure to her. She has indeed had a great deal to
bear, and I think her health has suffered, but I hope not materially. In
my father's absence, she ordered everything, did everything, felt
everything herself. Unless, my dear aunt, you had been present during
the last week of dear Honora's sufferings, I think you could not form an
idea of anything so terrible or so touching. Such extreme fortitude,
such affection, such attention to the smallest feelings of others, as
she showed on her deathbed!

My father has carefully kept his mind occupied ever since his return,
but we cannot help seeing his feelings at intervals. He has not slept
for two or three nights, and is, I think, far from well to-day.

He said the other day, speaking of Honora, "My dear daughters, I promise
you one thing, I never will reproach any of you with Honora. I will
never reproach you with any of her virtues." There could not be a kinder
or more generous promise, but I could not help fearing that my father
should refrain from speaking of her too much, and that it would hurt his
mind. He used to say it was a great relief to him to talk of my mother
Honora.

* * * * *

In the summer of 1791 Mr. and Mrs. Edgeworth went to England, leaving
Maria in sole charge of the large family at home. She used to amuse her
young sisters at this time by stories, which she would write on a slate
during the leisure moments her many occupations permitted, and which she
would read aloud to them in the evening. By their interest or questions
she estimated the stories, which became the foundation of _The Parent's
Assistant._ When her father was with her she always wrote a sketch of an
intended story, and submitted it to his approval, being invariably
guided by his advice. In October Maria was desired to follow her parents
to Clifton, bringing nearly all the children with her, a formidable
undertaking for a young girl in those days of difficult travelling.

* * * * *

MARIA _to_ MRS. RUXTON, AFTER RETURNING FROM A VISIT TO BLACK CASTLE.

EDGEWORTHSTOWN. _October 1791._

My dear mother is safe and well, and a fine new sister, I suppose you
have heard. My very dear aunt, since the moment I came home till this
instant my hands have trembled, and my head whirled with business, but
the delightful hope of seeing my dear father and mother at Bristol is in
fine perspective at the end. My father has just written the kindest
letter possible, and Emmeline is transcribing his directions about our
journey. We are to set off as soon as we can--on Tuesday morning next, I
believe, for my father is extremely impatient for us to come over. I
write by this night's post to Mr. Hanna, to take lodgings for us in
Dublin, and we are, as you will see, to go by Holyhead. As to coming
round by Black Castle, it is out of the question. For everybody's sake
but my own, I regret this: for my own I do not, the few hours I should
have to spend in your company would not, my dearest aunt, balance the
pain of parting with you all again, which I did feel thoroughly, and if
I had not had the kindest friends and the fullest occupation the moment
I came home, I should have been in the lamentables a long time. Tell my
dear uncle I never shall forget the kindness of his manner towards me
during the whole of my stay at Black Castle, and the belief that he
thinks well of his little niece adds much to her happiness, perhaps to
her vanity, which he will say there was no occasion to increase. And
now, dear Sophy, for your _roaring blade_, Thomas Day, Esq., [Footnote:
This little brother was born the day before the Edgeworth family
received the news of the sudden death of their old friend Mr. Day in
1789.] he is in readiness to wait upon you whenever you can, and will
have the charity to receive him. Name the day, my dear aunt, which will
be the least inconvenient if you can, and Molly or John Langan shall
bring him in the old or new chaise to your door, where I hope he will
not salute you with a cry, but if he does do not be surprised.

You see, my dear aunt, that I am in a great hurry by my writing, but no
hurry, believe me, can drive out of my mind the remembrance of all the
kindness I received at Black Castle. Oh, continue to love your niece;
you cannot imagine the pleasure she felt when you kissed her, and said
you loved her a thousand times better than ever you did before.

MR. SMITH'S, HOLYHEAD,

_Friday Morning._

We are this instant arrived, my dear aunt, after a thirty-three hours'
passage; all the children safe and well, but desperately sick; poor
little Sneyd especially. The packet is just returning, and my head is so
giddy that I scarcely know what I write, but you will only expect a few
shabby lines to say we are not drowned. Mr. Ussher Edgeworth [Footnote:
Brother to the Abbé Edgeworth, who resided in Dublin.] and my Aunt Fox's
servant saw us on board, and Mr. E. was so very good to come in the
wherry with us and see us into the ship. We had the whole cabin to
ourselves; no passenger, except one gentleman, son-in-law to Mr. Dawson,
of Ardee, he was very civil to us, and assisted us much in landing, etc.
I felt, besides, very glad to see one who knew anything even of the name
of Ruxton. Adíeu, my dear aunt; all the sick pale figures around me with
faint voices send their love to you and my uncle.

MARIA _to_ MR. RUXTON.

PRINCE'S BUILDINGS, CLIFTON,

_Dec. 29, 1791._

My Dear Uncle--If you are going to the canal put this letter in your
pocket, and do not be troubled in your conscience about reading it, but
keep it till you are perfectly at leisure: for I have nothing strange or
new to tell you. We live just the same kind of life that we used to do
at Edgeworthstown; and though we move amongst numbers, are not moved by
them, but feel independent of them for our daily amusement. All the
_phantasmas_ I had conjured up to frighten myself, vanished after I had
been here a week, for I found that they were but phantoms of my
imagination, as you very truly told me. We live very near the Downs,
where we have almost every day charming walks, and all the children go
bounding about over hill and dale along with us. My aunt told me that
once when you were at Clifton, when full dressed to go to a ball at
Bath, you suddenly changed your mind, and undressed again, to go out a
walking with her, and now that I see the walks, I am not surprised, even
if you were not to have had the pleasure of my aunt's company. My father
has got a _transfer_ of a ticket for the Bristol library, which is an
extremely fine one; and what makes it appear ten times finer is, that it
is very difficult for strangers to get into. From thence he can get
almost any book for us he pleases, except a few of the most scarce,
which are by the laws of the library immovable. No ladies go to the
library, but Mr. Johns, the librarian, is very civil, and my mother went
to his rooms and saw the beautiful prints in Boydell's Shakespear.
Lavater is to come home in a coach to-day. My father seems to think much
the same of him that you did when you saw him abroad, that to some
genius he adds a good deal of the mountebank. My father is going soon to
Bath, Madame de Genlis is there, and he means to present the translation
of _Adele and Theodore_ to her: [Footnote: Maria Edgeworth, by her
father's advice, had made a translation of _Adèle et Théodore_ in 1782,
but the appearance of Holcroft's translation prevented its publication.]
he had intended to have had me introduced to her, but upon inquiry he
was informed that she is not visited by demoiselles in England.

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