tive people are specially prone to these blunders, and some of our greatest poets are not exempt from them. Milton says in Samson Agonistes:—" The deeds themselves, though mute, speak loud the giver."
One of the best chapters is that which records the adventures of Phelim O'Mooney, who goes to England under the name of Sir John Bull. Two of the bulls he makes are worth mentioning:
"How are ye, my fine fellow? Can ye see at all with the eye that's knocked out?" And again, "If the contractors had illuminated in character, it would have been with dark lanterns."
In 1803, when Maria Edgeworth was thirty-six, her name had become a household word, and many of her tales had been translated into French. She and her father and step-mother went on a very interesting visit to France and Belgium, and her letters describing her experiences are capital, bright, graphic, and perfectly free from vanity or egotism.
The fourth Mrs. Edgeworth added six more children to the family group, making twenty-two in all, though many did not live to grow up. These children of all ages were voracious for stories, and Maria had a never-failing supply.
Most of her "Popular Tales," belong to this period of her life. Her "Tales of Fashionable Life" included what is generally considered her