Strutt of Derby. They also came into contact with many literary
celebrities, Mr. Edgeworth now posing as an author upon the strength of
_Practical Education_, written in partnership with his daughter, who was
ever not only willing but anxious that he should bear off all the honor
and glory. Among their acquaintance was Mrs. Barbauld, for whom both
father and daughter conceived a genuine regard, and whom Mr. Edgeworth
liked the more because she was a proof of the soundness of his belief
that the cultivation of literary tastes does not necessarily unfit a
woman for her domestic duties. In London they also visited their
publisher, Mr. Johnson, an intelligent, generous, but most dilatory man,
who was then confined in King's Bench Prison on account of some
publication held treasonable. Of this English visit there are,
unfortunately, only two letters preserved: one announcing the birth of
another baby into this already huge family, the other treating of "a
young man, Mr. Davy,[4] who has applied himself much to chemistry, has
made some discoveries of importance, and enthusiastically expects
wonders will be performed by the use of certain gases."

With the dissolution of the last Irish Parliament, Mr. Edgeworth's
public duties came to an end, and the quiet, happy life at
Edgeworthstown recommenced its even course, marked only by the
publication of Miss Edgeworth's works, and by births and deaths in the
family circle.

CHAPTER V.

"PRACTICAL EDUCATION."--CHILDREN'S BOOKS.

Two circumstances must never be lost sight of in speaking of Miss
Edgeworth's writings: the one, that she did not write from the inner
prompting of genius, but rather because it had been suggested by her
father; the other, that she wrote throughout with a purpose in view, and
by no means only for the sake of affording amusement. To blame her,
therefore, as has been so often done, for being utilitarian in her aim,
is to blame her for having attained her goal. A minor consideration, but
one that often proves of no minor weight, was the fact that Miss
Edgeworth never needed to follow authorship as a profession; its
pecuniary results were of no moment to her, and hence she was spared all
the bitterness and incidental anxieties of an author's life, the working
when the brain should rest, the imperative need to go on, no matter
whether there be aught to say or not. Her path, in this respect, as in
all others, traversed the high-roads of life. Fame at