of Commons. The convention had, in
fact, nothing more to do, or nothing that they could attempt without
peril; but it was difficult to persuade the assembly to dissolve the
meeting, and to return quietly to their respective counties and
homes. This point, however, was fortunately accomplished, and early
in the morning the meeting terminated.'

Miss Edgeworth adds: 'I have heard my father say that he ever
afterwards rejoiced in the share he had in preserving one of the
chiefs of this volunteer convention from a desperate resolution, and
in determining the assembly to a temperate termination.'

Writing of this convention many years afterwards, Edgeworth says:
'There never was any assembly in the British empire more in earnest
in the business on which they were convened, or less influenced by
courtly interference or cabal But the object was in itself unattainable.

'The idea of admitting Roman Catholics to the right of voting for
representatives was not urged even by the most liberal and most
enlightened members of the convention; and the number, and wealth,
and knowledge of Protestant voters in Ireland could not decently be
considered as sufficient to elect an adequate and fair
representation of the people.'

The reforms were never carried, though fresh efforts, equally
unsuccessful, were made when Pitt became minister.

CHAPTER 5

It was in 1786 that Edgeworth had a severe fall from a scaffolding,
the result of which was, as his friend Dr Darwin prophesied, an
attack of jaundice. When the workmen brought him home, he tried to
reassure his family by telling them the story of a French Marquis,'
who fell from a balcony at Versailles, and who, as it was court
politeness that nothing unfortunate should ever be mentioned in the
King's presence, replied to His Majesty's inquiry if he wasn't hurt
by his fall, "Tout au contraire, Sire"' To all our inquiries whether
he was hurt, my father replied, 'Tout au contraire, mes aimes.'

His friendship for Mr. Day, which had existed for many years, was
now interrupted by Mr. Day's sudden death from a fall from his horse
in 1789. Edgeworth thought of writing his life, as he considered him
to have been a man of such'original an and noble character as to
deserve a public eulogium. He goes on to say: 'To preserve a
portrait to posterity, it must either be the likeness of some
celebrated individual, or it must represent a face which,
independently of peculiar associations, corre