The few general observations he made on French society at this time
I shall mention. He observed that, among the families of the old
nobility, domestic happiness and virtue had much increased since the
Revolution, in consequence of the marriages which, after they lost
their wealth and rank, had been formed, not according to the usual
fashion of old French alliances, but from disinterested motives,
from the perception of the real suitability of tempers and
characters. The women of this class in general, withdrawn from
politics and political intrigue, were more domestic and
amiable. . . .

'With regard to literature^he observed that it had considerably
degenerated. For the good taste, wit, and polished style which had
characterised French literature before the Revolution there was no
longer any demand, and but few competent judges remained. The
talents of the nation had been forced by circumstances into
different directions. At one time, the hurry and necessity of the
passing moment had produced political pamphlets and slight works of
amusement, formed to catch the public revolutionary taste. At
another period, the contending parties, and the real want of freedom
in the country, had repressed literary efforts. Science, which
flourished independently of politics, and which was often useful and
essential to the rulers, had meanwhile been encouraged, and had
prospered. The discoveries and inventions of men of science showed
that the same positive quantity of talent existed in France as in
former times, though appearing in a new form.'

The charms of Paris and its society were rudely broken by Edgeworth
receiving one morning a visit from a police officer requiring him
immediately to attend at the Palais de Justice. Edgeworth was in bed
with a cold when this summons came. He writes to Miss Charlotte
Sneyd:--'My being ill was not a sufficient excuse; I got up and
dressed myself slowly, to gain time for thinking--drank one dish of
chocolate, ordered my carriage, and went with my exempt to the
Palais de Justice. There I was shown into a parlour, or rather a
guard-room, where a man like an under-officer was sitting at a desk.
In a few minutes I was desired to walk upstairs into a long narrow
room, in different parts of which ten or twelve clerks were sitting
at different tables. To one of these I was directed--he asked my
name, wrote it on a printed card, and demanding half a crown,
presented the card to me, telling me it was a