ould not, even if I thought
myself qualified to judge, attempt to speak in this letter.

But I am sensible that I have neither the knowledge nor the
strength, much less the coolness of judgment, necessary to make
opinion valuable on such subjects. I could easily give my own
opinion, but--of no use. The less I am inclined to speak when I do
not know, the more I am anxious to hear; and most delightful and
profitable would it be to me to hear the great historian himself
speak on many points which I hear discussed by my learned brother,
Dean Butler, and others (on Clarendon's character, etc., etc.,
etc.) We have not yet seen any of the public reviews of Macaulay's
history. No doubt the stinging, little, ephemeral insects will come
out in swarms to buzz and fly-blow in the sunshine. The warmer, the
brighter, the thicker the swarm will be to prick. I hope you will
read this unconscionable lengthy letter when you are in your
carriage, rolling about from patient to patient, and be patient
yourself then, my dear doctor. You are always so very good and
kind to me that I encroach. I seldom write such long epistles. As
the most impudent beggar-woman in our town says to Mrs. E., "Ma'am,
your ladyship, I never beg from any one so much as your ladyship;
troth, never from any but you." ...

Give my most kind and affectionate remembrances to Mrs. Holland and
your daughters and sons, and

Believe me most garrulously and sincerely yours,

MARIA EDGEWORTH.

This letter, so characteristic in its humility and generous admiration,
shows no sign of old age or impaired faculties, neither is there any
trace of this in one of the last she ever wrote, addressed to her sister
Harriet:--

I am heartily obliged and delighted by your being such a goose and
Richard such a gander, as to be frightened out of your wits at my
going up the ladder to take off the top of the clock! Know, then,
that I am quite worthy of that most unmerited definition of man, "A
creature that looks before and after." Before I _let on_ to anybody
my doubts of my own capability of reaching the nail on which to
hang the top, I called Shaw, and made her stand at the foot of the
ladder while I went up, and found I could no more reach the nail
than I could reach the moon, Exit Shaw!

Prudence of M. E., Act 2: