u have given him a desire to live
to advanced age, by showing him how much happiness can be felt and
conferred in age, where the affections and intellectual faculties
are preserved in all their vivacity. In you there is a peculiar
habit of allowing constantly for the _compensating_ good qualities
of all connected with you, and never unjustly expecting impossible
perfections. This, which I have so often admired in you, I have
often determined to imitate; and in this my sixtieth year, to
commence in a few days, I will, I am resolved, make great
progress. "Rosamond at sixty," says Margaret. We are all a very
happy party here, and I wish you could see at this moment, sitting
opposite to me on a sofa and in an arm-chair, the mother and
daughter and grandchild.

The outward course of existence at home was one of quiet routine. Habits
of order had been early impressed upon Miss Edgeworth by Mrs. Honora
Edgeworth, and though naturally impetuous, she had curbed herself to act
with method. It was thanks to these acquired habits that she was able to
accomplish daily such a surprising amount of multifarious work. It was
her custom to get up at seven, take a cup of coffee, read her letters,
and then walk out about three-quarters of an hour before breakfast. So
punctual and regular was she that for many years a lady residing in the
village used to be roused by her maid with the words, "Miss Edgeworth's
walking, ma'am; it's eight o'clock." She generally returned with her
hands full of roses or other flowers that she had gathered, and taking
her needlework or knitting, would sit down at the family breakfast, a
meal that was a special favorite of hers, though she rarely partook of
anything. But while the others were eating she delighted to read out to
them such extracts from the letters she had received as she thought
would please them. She listened, too, while the newspaper was read
aloud, although its literary and scientific contents always attracted
her more than its political; for in politics, except Irish, she took
little interest.

This social meal ended, she would sit down to write, penning letters,
attending to business, or inditing stories if any such were in progress.
She almost always wrote in the common sitting-room, as she had done
during her father's life-time, and for many years on a little desk he
had made for her, and on which, shortly before his death, he had