father could look down from heaven and see the purity and zeal of your
intentions in writing his _Memoirs_; I am sure your HEAVENLY FATHER does
see them. And I feel that this unjust, unchristian, inquisitorial attack
will not only develop fresh sentiments of the tenderest nature in your
friends, but also rally every human being of sound sense around you.


MARIA EDGEWORTH _to_ MRS. EDGEWORTH.

PARIS, _Nov. 15, 1820_.

You would scarcely believe, my dear friends, the calm of mind and the
sort of satisfied resignation I feel as to my father's _Life_. I suppose
the two years of doubt and extreme anxiety that I felt, exhausted all my
power of doubting. I know that I have done my very best, I know that I
have done my duty, and I firmly believe that if my dear father could see
the whole he would be satisfied with what I have done.

We have seen Mademoiselle Mars twice, or thrice rather, in the _Mariage
de Figaro_ and in the little pieces of _Le Jaloux sans amour_, and _La
jeunesse de Henri Cinq_, and admire her exceedingly. _En petit comite_
the other night at the Duchesse d'Escars, a discussion took place
between the Duchesse de la Force, Marmont, and Pozzo di Borgo, on the
_bon et mauvais ton_ of different expressions--_bonne societe_ is an
_expression bourgeoise_--you may say _bonne compagnie_ or _la haute
societe_. "Voila des nuances," as Madame d'Escars said. Such a wonderful
jabbering as these grandees made about these small matters. It put me in
mind of a conversation in the _World_ on good company which we all used
to admire.