Columbia ©ntoer^ttp 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
LIFE 
 
 UK 
 
 MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 
LONDON 
 
 PBINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. 
 
 NEW-STBEET SQT7ABE 
 
I 
 
 A 
 
 ■- '<V 
 
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LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 MARY AME SCHDIMELPEMINOK 
 
 AUTHOR OF "SELECT MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL" 
 
 AND OTHER WORKS. 
 EDITED BY HETt KELATION 
 
 CHRISTIANA C. HANKIN. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 LONDON 
 LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, AND ROBERTS. 
 
 1858 
 
51027 
 
ADDRESS TO THE READER. 
 
 The fragment of autobiography which occupies 
 the first volume of this work was dictated by 
 Mrs. SchimmelPerminck during the last three 
 years of her life, when the act of writing was 
 distasteful and burdensome to her. It received 
 neither subsequent addition nor alteration from 
 its Author. 
 
 She did not live to make those corrections 
 which every such work requires, and the reader's 
 indulgence is claimed for faults of composition 
 arising from these circumstances. 
 
 In compiling the memoir of Mrs. Schimmel- 
 
VI ADDRESS TO THE READER. 
 
 Penninck's life, which occupies the second volume, 
 the utmost pains have been taken to procure 
 materials with a view to continue the detail 
 from the period when the autobiography of her 
 early years concludes. But in this there was 
 only partial success. Of a considerable part of 
 her married life, the Editor has failed in ob- 
 taining any record ; but from about the year 
 1835 materials abound. Especially are they 
 rich in letters. So many have been kindly 
 placed at the disposal of the Editor, that the 
 only difficulty has been in the selection. Many 
 of the letters which follow have been chosen as 
 especially exhibiting the character of the writer, 
 and her views on many interesting topics largely 
 discussed in the present day. 
 
 A new edition of the Memoirs of Port Royal, 
 and some unpublished writings of Mrs. Schim- 
 melPeiminck's, are in course of preparation for 
 the press, and will follow the present volumes 
 
ADDRESS TO THE READER. Vll 
 
 as soon as possible. They will consist of the 
 following series : ■ — 
 
 SELECT MEMOIRS OF PORT ROYAL, 2 vols. 
 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF BEAUTY, 1 vol. 
 
 ESSAYS ON THE TEMPERAMENTS, ON GOTHIC AND 
 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE, AND OTHER SUBJECTS, 
 1 vol. 
 
 All these works are published in pursuance of 
 the Author's testamentary directions. 
 
 Clifton: June 23rd, 1858. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 1778—1787. 
 
 Birth. — Earliest Recollections. — Her Grandfather. — First hearing 
 of God. — Sunday Instructions. — Philosophy. — Natural History. 
 
 — George Bolt, the Dentist. — Aunt Polly. — " Ami des 
 Enfans." — " Little Charles." — Desires after Knowledge. — Love 
 of Animals. — Sandford and Merton. — Ahhorrence of Finery. — 
 Swiss Bonne. — Alps. — Impressions. — Miss de Luc. — Sahrina 
 Sidney. — The Skull. — Removal to Barr. — Sir Joseph Scott. — 
 Mr. Hoo. — Description of Barr. — Haunts for Reading or Bota- 
 nising. — The House itself. — Her Mother's Care. — Swiss Gover- 
 ness. — Switzerland. — Magpie. — Parrot. — " Alphonse." — " Prose 
 Hymns." — Funeral Procession. — Mr. Hoo's Hounds. — Squire 
 Chase. — Her Mother's Instructions. — Habits of Barr. — Reflections 
 
 — Lady Scott. — Visitors. — Her Father. — Lunar Meetings. — 
 Mr. Boulton. — Mr. Watt. — Dr. Withering. — Dr. Stoke. — The 
 Snake. — Dr. Priestley. — Phrenologic Descriptions. — Anecdote. — 
 Fungi. — Mr. Berrington. — Her Grandfather Barclay. — Hudson. 
 
 — Her Grandfather Galton. — Lizzie Forster. — Early Walks. — 
 Lake. — Symhols. — Birth-day Gifts. — Asthma. — iEsop. — Visit 
 to Tenby. — Interests there. — The Lunatic. — Effects. — The 
 Temple Page 1 
 
 vol. I. a 
 
X CONTENTS OF 
 
 PART II. 
 
 1787—1788. 
 
 Her Mother's Illness. — Miss P. — Young Governesses : their Rule and 
 her Mother's. — Terrors of Childhood. — Goes to Bath. — Meets 
 her Mother. — Pump Room. — Abbey. — Mrs. Priestley. — Con- 
 versation. — Anecdotes. — Lord Chesterfield. — Visits of George 
 I., II., and III. to her Great Grandfather. — Her Mother and the 
 King. — Lady Egremont. — Description of her Mother. — Dr. 
 Hastings. — Anecdote. — Miss Berrington. — Anecdote. — Baron 
 and Baroness Dimsdale. — Her Mother leaves Bath. — Her Misery. 
 — Little Dog Moses. — Walks. — Sir William and Lady Watson. 
 
 — Anecdotes. — Mr. Leathes. — Goes to Dawlish. — Liberty. — 
 
 — Christiana Gurney. — Antagonistic Principles. — Difficulties. — 
 Literature. — Libraries. — Sir Walter Scott. — Mrs. Waring. — 
 Arrival of her Parents. — Cousin Sally. — Mr. Leathes' teaching. — 
 Occupations with him and with William Priestley. — Arabian Nights. 
 
 — Sir Walter Scott. — Anecdotes. — Her Mother - - Page 69 
 
 PART III. 
 
 1788—1789. 
 
 Return to Barr. — Her Delight. — Her Mother's Teaching. — Mr. Ber- 
 rington. — Studies. — Catholic Boy. — Visits to Dudson. — Lunar 
 Meetings. — State of France. — Dr. Darwin. — Her Mother goes to 
 Birmingham. — Her Visits there.— Interest in her Studies. — William 
 Priestley. — Temple of Diana. — Fortification. — English History-. 
 
 — Anthony Babington and John Polly. — Memory. — Pilgrim's 
 Progress. — Beauties of the Winter. — Studies Lavater. — Devo- 
 tion to her Mother. — Effects of Character. — Friends' Meeting. — 
 Interest in Countenances. — Her Mother's Illness. — Dr. Darwin. 
 
 — Anti-Slavery. — Apollyon. — Plain Dress. — Her Grandfather. — 
 Fragile Health. — Dudson: its Society. — Betsy and Susanna 
 Bradley. — Sampson Lloyd. — His Story. — Charles Lloyd. — Her 
 
 Great-aunt Farmer. — Tribes of Israel. — Mary Capper's History 
 
 Her Mother's Kindness. —Early Walks. — Her Mother's Counsel. — 
 Social Evenings at Mr. Berrington's. — Prince Charles Edward. — 
 Schools of Religious Training - - - - - - 143 
 
THE FIRST VOLUME. XI 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 1789—1792. 
 
 French Revolution. — Reflections. — Popular Movements. — Dudson. — 
 Priscilla Hannah Gurney. — Richard Reynolds. — Coalbrook Dale. 
 
 — Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. — Priscilla's Home. — Priscilla and 
 Miss Berrington described. — St. Francis. — Scene in the Drawing- 
 room. — Dr. Darwin's Conversation. — Her Reasoning. — Botanic 
 Garden. — Works of Art. — Free Inquiry. — Her Father. — His 
 Early Life. — Academy at "Warrington. — Book of Knowledge. — 
 Her Father's Attainments. — Antagonistic Influences. — Jones's 
 Machine. — Her Reading. — Her Father's Mode of Instruction. — 
 Doubts. — Solitude. — Dogs. — Her Experience. — Sunday's In- 
 struction. — Her Mother's Reading. — The Holy Scriptures : how 
 esteemed. — Left at Home. — Difficulties. — Importance of Early 
 Habits. — Misery. — Visits to Roman Catholic Chapel. — Public 
 Events in France. — Anti-Slavery. — Catholic Truth. — Question- 
 ings. — Journey to Liverpool. — Social Circle there. — Black 
 Servants. — Anecdotes. — Her Father. — His accurate Information 
 
 Page 216 
 
 PART V. 
 
 1792—1793. 
 
 Reflections. — Hopeless State. — Gloom. — Friends. — Religious 
 Books. — Studies Dr. Priestley's Writings: their Effect. — Her 
 Need. — Perplexities. — Isolation and Misery. — Character changes. 
 
 — Effects of Calamity. — Is heedless of Duties. — The only Beacon 
 left. — Her Mother's Gift. — Her Tastes. — Yields to Temptation. — 
 Misery of a burdened Conscience. — Basket of Fruit. — Deep 
 Humiliation. — Birmingham. — Conversational Evenings.— Bruce's 
 Travels — Presents of Books. — Her Mother's Narrative. — The 
 Wiuter. — No Remission of Sin without Confession. — Pardon of 
 Sin. — Human Opinion. — Her Mother's Love of Poetry. — Pagan 
 Poets. — Teaching of Homer. — Teaching of the Gospels. — Her 
 Mother's Reading. — Saturday and Sunday. — Pagan Heroism. — 
 Christian Instruction. — Solitude. — Mr. and Mrs. Watt. — Gre- 
 gory and Jessy Watt.—- Fortification. — Women - - 295 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 MAEY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 1778—1787. 
 
 The aged Christian stands upon the shore 
 
 Of Time, a storehouse of experience, 
 
 Filled with the treasures of rich heavenly lore. 
 
 I love to sit and hear him draw from thence 
 
 Sweet recollections of his journey past, 
 
 A journey crowned with blessings to the last." 
 
 " Oft in my way have I 
 Stood still, though but a casual passenger, 
 So much I felt the awfulness of life." — Wordsworth. 
 
 I was born in the evening of the 25th of November, 
 1778, in Steel-House Lane, at my grandfather's house 
 of business in Birmingham, where my father, Samuel 
 Galton, then lived. My mother was Lucy Barclay. 
 My grandfather resided at that time at Dudson, a 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 country-house distant about a mile and a half from 
 that town. My first recollections date from 1782; 
 when we had removed to Hagley Row, The Five 
 Ways, which was then the Clifton of Birmingham. 
 I remember the aged Judge Oliver, Lord Chief 
 Justice of Massachusetts, as then living within two 
 or three doors of us ; and the pleasure it was to 
 me to be allowed to hand to his relative, Governor 
 Hutchinson, a rich cup of chocolate in his morning 
 calls, and to be taken on his knee afterwards and 
 hear all about the Falls of Niagara and hunting the 
 bisons ; to look through his Claude glass and his 
 telescope; and to see a collection of little curiosi- 
 ties, which he delighted to make, and to show to 
 children. 
 
 I then remember, too, learning to put together 
 Dissected Maps ; and, my eyes being blindfolded, I 
 was expected to find the different counties by their 
 form and size. I also recollect the pleasure it was 
 to see a camera obscura, and to have it explained by 
 my mother. As a shadowy remembrance, I recall 
 the image of old Lord Monboddo, approaching the 
 house on horseback, with a huge package on his 
 horse behind him ; so that I, looking from a window, 
 called out to my mother that the tame dromedary 
 we had seen a few days before was coming back to 
 us. About the same time I remember seeing Dr. 
 Smeaton, the builder of the Eddystone Lighthouse. 
 
MARY AXXE BCHIMMELPEtfNINCK. 3 
 
 Nor can I forget the delightful holiday it used to 
 be, when my kind grandfather came to visit us, or I 
 went to him, and he gave me a little basket of his 
 beautiful fruit, particularly grapes and pine-apples, 
 and taught me how to skip the rope or to sow seeds 
 in my little garden. I also recollect the pleasure it 
 sometimes used to be on a winter evening when my 
 father told me of Menelaus, and Troy, and Ulysses, 
 and the adventures of ^Eneas ; and to go with him 
 and see our horses " Hector " and " Ajax," " Balius " 
 and " Xanthus." 
 
 Amongst the deepest remembrances of that time, 
 is that of my mother's first telling me of God. She 
 was very fond of instructing me, and leading me to 
 inquire into the causes of things ; as, for example, of 
 light as coming from the sun, or water from the sea 
 or clouds ; so that I was led to inquire of her, " But 
 where did the sun and the sea come from?" She told 
 me to think for a day, and endeavour to find out, but 
 that if I could not, at the end of that time she would 
 tell me. The day seemed interminable ; and failing in 
 my endeavour, the next morning I renewed my in- 
 quiry. She answered very solemnly that she would 
 take me into a room where we should be alone, and 
 there she would tell me. She took me up-stairs, 
 through her bedroom, into a little dressing-room, into 
 which I was not habitually allowed to enter, but 
 which from that time I as distinctly remember as 
 B 2 
 
4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 though I now saw everything in it. She shut the 
 door, and said she was now going to answer my 
 question ; — that that answer would be the most 
 important thing I should ever hear in my life, for 
 that it would involve everything I should hereafter 
 feel, or think, or do ; — that if I made a good use of it, 
 I should have such happiness, that nothing whatever 
 could make me completely miserable ; but if, on the 
 contrary, I made a bad use of this knowledge, 
 nothing could make me happy. 
 
 She then spoke to me of God ; of His omnipotence ; 
 of His omnipresence ; of His great wisdom shown in 
 all He had made ; of His great love to all His crea- 
 tures, whether human beings or animals. She told me 
 that God had given to every person a voice in the 
 interior of their hearts, and that this voice was called 
 Conscience ; that it had spoken to me the other day, 
 when I had been obstinate in spelling my lesson, 
 and had made me feel that I had done wrong. She 
 then said, that God had invited all His creatures to 
 speak to Him, and to tell Him their wants, and that 
 this was called Prayer ; and to thank Him for all 
 His goodness, and that this was called Thanksgiving ; 
 and that we should never begin nor end the day with- 
 out both the one and the other. She said, also, that 
 when she saw I was going to be naughty, she should 
 give me five minutes to sit still and recollect myself, 
 before she proceeded to punish my disobedience. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 5 
 
 From that time, on Sundays slie always taught me 
 one of the Commandments, a clause of the Lord's 
 Prayer, or one of the texts from the Sermon on the 
 Mount, and explained it to me ; as also a question 
 or two in Dr. Priestley's Scripture Catechism. She 
 made me read to her one of Mrs. Barbauld's Prose 
 Hymns for Children ; and sometimes she would make 
 me sit still with her, after the manner of Friends. I 
 was going to say this instruction struck deeply into 
 my heart ; but it would be more correct were I to 
 say, that though at times it returned with power, 
 there w^ere long seasons when it was not the least 
 influential. 
 
 Meanwhile these impressions were crossed by many 
 very opposite ones. My father and mother con- 
 stantly desired me to bear pain like a Philosopher or 
 a Stoic. I remember my mother telling me of the 
 little Spartan boy, who, having stolen a fox, let it gnaw 
 him to the heart without his betraying pain ; and she 
 asked me when I should be able to do the same. 
 One day some cotton which was on my hand having 
 caught fire, my mother bade me bring it slowly to 
 her. She was at the opposite end of a long room ; 
 and I was told to walk slowly, lest the flame should 
 catch my dress ; and not to mind the pain, but to be 
 like the boys of Sparta. I did so ; but the scar re- 
 mained on my hand many, many years. I also 
 
 B 3 
 
6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 recollect with shame, that my endeavours to be a 
 philosopher were not grounded on any love of phi- 
 losophy ; but partly on an inordinate tendency to 
 self-esteem, which made me like to see my own 
 doings in a grandiose point of view ; and partly from 
 the feeling of humiliation in seeing my own charac- 
 ter as poor and commonplace and conquered by cir- 
 cumstances. They were also founded on my tender 
 love to my dear and honoured mother ; whose noble 
 character had in reality that magnanimity which I 
 thus attempted to copy. My father, too, equally 
 wished me to be a philosopher ; and liked to instruct 
 me in the rudiments of science. I had a pretty little 
 monkey named Jack, a dog, a cat, a rabbit, and 
 other animals. It was my delight to hear my 
 father explain the Linnrean Orders ; and to have him 
 show me the teeth and claws of my various pets, clas- 
 sifying them, from the Primates Jack to the Brutum 
 Sus. 
 
 I well remember one day when George Bolt, the 
 Friends' Dentist, came to examine my teeth. I 
 agreed to have my front teeth drawn before my 
 mother came in from her walk, that I might puzzle 
 her as to my classification, as I should want the 
 four teeth in the upper jaw, the distinctive mark 
 of the Primates. I sat still and had them all out, 
 that it might be over when she arrived. George 
 Bolt said I was " the best little girl he had ever 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 7 
 
 seen ; " and took from his pocket a paper of comfits 
 as my reward. But I drew up, and said, " Do you 
 think Regulus, and Epictetus, and Seneca, would 
 take a reward for bearing pain ; or the little Spartan 
 boys ? " He laughed heartily ; and, my mother just 
 then coming in, he said, " Thy little girl is too much 
 of a philosopher to be rewarded for bearing pain, 
 but still I hope she is enough of a child to like these 
 comfits, as a mark of love and kindness;" to which I 
 acceded with great delight. 
 
 A few more words relative to this period ; the 
 remembrance of which, though clear, is almost like 
 a shadow. It is of my Aunt Mary Galton, my 
 father's sister ; whom we used to call my Aunt 
 Polly. I used to delight in going to Dudson when 
 she was there. She would often bid me place my little 
 stool beside her at tea, and tell me long and interest- 
 ing fairy tales ; and still oftener Scripture histories, 
 illustrative of the pictures on the Dutch tiles, which 
 then formed the common ornament of chimney-pieces. 
 I used to listen with delight to the history of Noah 
 or of Abraham, of Joseph and his Brethren, of Caleb 
 and Joshua, of David and Jonathan ; and well do 
 I recall the contrast, even then, between the inflation 
 and exulting pride with which I heard the stories of 
 the Grecian heroes and philosophers and the sweet 
 and soothing feeling of rest with which I listened to 
 
 B 4 
 
8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 those of the holy men of old. The one seemed 
 like the glare and strength of the noon-day sun ; 
 the other like the sweet and refreshing calm of 
 evening;:. 
 
 My Aunt Polly about this time became greatly 
 changed. I believe, from various little evidences 
 which have since reached me, that she then became 
 truly converted to God. Outwardly she assumed 
 the strictest garb of a Friend, and exchanged her silk 
 for a camlet gown ; she no longer related fairy tales ; 
 but told me more of Scripture, and that more sweetly; 
 she pointed out to me the wisdom and goodness of 
 God in all the fruits and flowers of the garden, and 
 in all else that she thought my childish mind could 
 apprehend. She soon became ill, and was sent, for 
 her health, to the Hotwells, Bristol ; from which 
 place she never returned. Before she went, she 
 came to take leave of us. 
 
 " I am going," I think she said, " never to come 
 back." I replied, " Oh, let me go with you ! " to 
 which she answered, solemnly looking up, " If thou 
 wouldst be where I hope to be, thou must trust 
 where I desire to trust." Her words made an indelible 
 impression upon me. Though I did not understand 
 them, I believed that something awful and solemn 
 was associated with their meaning, but I dared not 
 ask anybody to explain it. When, some months 
 afterwards, I heard of her death, these words 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 9 
 
 rose up before me ; and, for a season, seemed ever 
 present with me. 
 
 There were still a few other seeds scattered at this 
 time in my mind, which I shall mention, because they 
 struck deep root in my tastes and character. The 
 books in which I delighted were not only eagerly read, 
 but each of my favourites amongst them seemed as 
 it were to amalgamate with my existence, however 
 diverse they might be one from the other. There was 
 Berquin's " L'Ami des Enfans." His vivid scenes 
 and quick feeling delighted me ; but some passages 
 I never could read. The account of the child la- 
 menting over his mother's grave, I have never been 
 able to read to this day. I often wondered how 
 that child could have lived after its mother's death ; 
 and I very often prayed that I might never out- 
 live my mother. This book, I think, fostered in my 
 mind a love of stimulus and excitement of feeling. 
 My English books were Mrs. Barbauld's " Little 
 Charles," and Brook's Natural History ; the latter of 
 which inspired me with a great desire for the acqui- 
 sition of outward knowledge. It was my happiness 
 every evening to place my little chair close by my 
 mother's table, and to listen whilst she told me his- 
 tories : particularly I remember her telling me of 
 Mount Hecla and Mount Vesuvius, of the Pyramids, 
 the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, and the AVall of 
 China ; and if the Bonne gave a good account of mc 
 
10 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 through the day, after tea my mother would bring 
 out Buffon, and show me pictures of animals, and 
 read me an account of them. I was very fond, too, 
 of tending animals, and showing kindness to them, 
 and I shall never forget the pleasure I had in feed- 
 ing the birds which frequented our shrubbery, and in 
 learning their natural history ; nor the delight I felt 
 in the periodical visits of some tame dromedaries 
 and brown bears, which I fed with oatcake and 
 treacle. 
 
 I was very fond of " Sandford and Merton ; " and 
 this book, with my mother's instructions grounded 
 upon it, formed a decided phase in my tastes and 
 habits of mind. I thus early learnt to abhor finery, 
 and to consider it as contemptible ; and whenever I 
 saw a fine lady, I considered her in the light of a May- 
 day dancer who could afford to have better tinsel. 
 One incident I will relate. A lady came one evening 
 to drink tea with my mother ; she wore feathers, and 
 had on a very smart head-dress. After a time she 
 kindly called me to her and spoke to me ; on which I 
 felt my heart warm to her, and I asked " what she had 
 done," and " if she might not take off her fool's-cap ! " 
 If I recollect rightly, Mrs. Wakefield has alluded 
 to this incident in one of her books for children. I 
 held also in the greatest contempt all aristocratic 
 distinctions. I loved Henry Sandford for contemn- 
 ing the rich and the fashionable at Mr. Merton's, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 11 
 
 and for helping the poor. I had the utmost en- 
 thusiasm for his refusing to denounce the poor hare 
 to Squire Chase ; and for Hamet, the generous Turk. 
 I thought nothing on earth would give me more 
 happiness than to be enabled to make such a 
 sacrifice, or do such a service to my mother ; but, 
 like Diogenes, I was ignorant that I was trampling 
 on pride with still greater pride. I also remember 
 the delight it was to me to hear my Swiss Bonne 
 talk of the Jura, the Alps, and the Lake of Geneva. 
 But what I liked still better was when M. Constanson, 
 an aged Swiss minister, came to stay at our house, 
 and took me on his knee, and told me long stories of 
 his encounter with a bear on the Alps, and his visits 
 to Herculaneum and Pompeii, with a whole history 
 of their catastrophe. I still have a little piece of 
 a vine he gave me, from Seneca's garden. Such 
 were some of the very heterogeneous influences 
 which, about this period, impressed my character; — 
 the sense of the presence of God ; the desire to know 
 His will and do it ; a great thirst for all sorts of 
 desultory information ; and, with all, an inordinate 
 pride and self-esteem, which rather led me to abhor 
 the humiliation in my own eyes and before others 
 consequent upon yielding to temptation, than enabled 
 me to resist it. Better children or worse children 
 than I might have been more honest : I was too bad 
 to resist temptation ; I was too good to have an easy 
 
12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 conscience under the feeling; of having clone wrong. 
 A great love of stimulus and quick feeling, with a 
 sensitiveness which made me shrink from having my 
 feelings known, also became integral parts of my 
 character. I remember hearing, about this time, a 
 great deal of Madame de Genlis' work on education. 
 It had been especially interesting to us from a pro- 
 posal that Madame de Genlis should pay us a visit. 
 She was well acquainted with Miss de Luc, daughter 
 of the Christian philanthropist De Luc, who was reader 
 to Queen Charlotte. Miss de Luc, freshly arrived 
 from Switzerland, boarded in a family very near us, 
 and, as we were the only persons who habitually 
 spoke French and my parents were both literary 
 and scientific, she found great pleasure in coming to 
 our house. "We were much interested in anecdotes 
 she told us of Sabrina Sidney, the eleve of Mr. Day, 
 who was boarding at the same house with her. We 
 heard how she stood unmoved when, every morning, 
 he fired a pistol close to her ear, and how she bore 
 melted sealing-wax being dropped on her back and 
 arms ; and we were told of her throwing a box of 
 finery into the fire at his request. Sometimes I 
 wished I were such a philosopher ; sometimes I felt 
 it would be a " vocation assistee ! " 
 
 When I was about six years old we left The Five 
 Ways; previously to which, our party being in- 
 creased, my father took a house belonging to an 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 13 
 
 artist, a Mr. Miller, which immediately adjoined 
 our own. A doorway of communication was opened 
 through the offices. This addition gave my father 
 two rooms below for his laboratory and philosophical 
 apparatus, and the younger children and the bonne 
 nurseries above. My health was weak, and I had 
 great delight in the society of those older than 
 myself, while I was overpowered by the noise and 
 habits of children ; and they, on the other hand, must 
 have felt as little pleasure in the society of one but 
 a few years older than themselves, who took so little 
 part in their amusements. It thus happened that I 
 was brought up with my parents and their friends ; 
 and the others, as children together, under their 
 Swiss Bonne. The religious Society to which we 
 nominally belonged — Friends — was at that period 
 at the lowest ebb ; and we never had the opportunity, 
 which all may now enjoy, of hearing the truth in 
 Christ luminously set forth. My dear and excellent 
 mother's standard of excellence was then grand and 
 exalted, but self-sufficing. She had the love of right 
 and justice, and of generosity, fortitude, and bene- 
 ficence ; but she looked on the expression of human 
 tenderness as weakness. Hence my childhood formed 
 for itself a standard of right and wrong which ex- 
 cluded, as did, indeed, my circumstances at that time, 
 the cultivation of many social ties ; but my heart was 
 as weak as my mother's was strong, and I was glad 
 
14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to find a refuge for its affections and sympathies in 
 love of animals of every variety. 
 
 Before Mr. Miller the artist quitted his house, I 
 had often watched him painting portraits ; and had 
 been much interested in his showing me a human 
 skull, and teaching me the names of the various 
 bones of which it is composed. When he went 
 away he made me a present of this skull ; it hence- 
 forth became part of my possessions; it ranked 
 ostensibly with my saws, hammers, nails, maps, 
 books, and other playthings. I often explained what 
 I had learnt of its structure to a little maid of ten 
 years old, the daughter of a cottager, named Polly 
 King, who waited on us. Yet internally and really 
 this skull caused me many musings. Often by fire- 
 light, in winter, when I was alone in my room, and 
 the flickering light chanced to fall upon it, the 
 thought would arise : " What is become of the soul 
 that inhabited thee? Is it dead and ended; — or 
 does it yet live; and if so, where and how? Is 
 it happy or unhappy ? Is it with my Aunt Polly ? " 
 And as such questionings arose, my heart seemed 
 to shrink before an unfathomable chaos over which I 
 found no bridge to the unseen. Sometimes again a 
 different phase came over me, and I thought, as I 
 looked upon the ghastly head and fleshless cheeks, 
 " Hast thou, too, ever been the delight of a mother ? 
 Hast thou laughed, and talked, and played, and been 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 15 
 
 merry, as we are ? Hast thou been taught with care 
 to fulfil some great hope in the world, and what has 
 been the end of thy labours or thy parents' expecta- 
 tion ? Do any yet live who perhaps have fondly 
 loved thee, and nurtured thee ? and how would 
 those feel who watched thy death-bed, if they could 
 see thee the plaything of a child ? " Then my heart 
 smote me ; and I remember saving up my allowance 
 of sixpence a week to buy a nice box to put it in, 
 and begging a piece of silk in which to wrap it care- 
 fully in my box ; and I thought, " If there be a 
 heaven, and if any of those who once loved thee look 
 down, they will see one at least who tries to show 
 kindness to the form they loved." I mention this 
 as showing the deep melancholic tinge which formed 
 a prominent trait in my character. These feelings 
 I kept closely to myself, and they were wholly un- 
 suspected by others ; and here I finish that part of 
 my history which relates to The Five Ways. 
 
 When I was about seven years old, I think in 
 1785, we moved from The Five Ways, for which our 
 family was now too large, to Barr in Staffordshire, 
 quite in the country, about seven or eight miles from 
 Birmingham. Barr was a habitation altogether of a 
 different kind from The Five Ways. The latter was 
 a suburban villa, in a sort of straggling row, in 
 which gentlemen's houses, cottages, trees and fields 
 promiscuously found place. Before it passed the 
 
16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 high road to Hagley and the Leasowes, the abodes 
 of the celebrated Lord Lyttelton and the poet 
 Shenstone. The place was called Five Ways be- 
 cause five ways actually met at the turnpike, which 
 was then one mile from Birmingham. Some of 
 these roads were picturesque, especially one winding 
 in a deep bottom to Harborne. Behind the house 
 we had a large shrubbery garden, a poultry-yard, 
 pens for our pets, stables and coach-house, altogether 
 occupying perhaps two acres. 
 
 Barr, on the other hand, was a comfortable man- 
 sion house, and though built in what is now called 
 the " Ogee Gothic style " (of which nothing was 
 understood in those days), it yet had an eminently 
 comfortable and attractive appearance. It was the 
 seat of Sir Joseph Scott, who was reputed to have 
 found the art of giving wings to the three fortunes 
 which he had successively inherited. He went 
 abroad, and my father took a lease of his house 
 for twenty-one years. I have always thought that 
 six lines which Sir Joseph Scott wrote were very 
 beautiful. An uncle, from whom he expected to in- 
 herit a large fortune, died, cutting him off with a 
 shilling. This shilling Sir Joseph Scott had framed 
 and put up in the library at Barr, with the follow- 
 ing inscription : — 
 
 " Behold in me sole fruit of all the care 
 An honour'd Uncle gave his much-loved heir ; 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 17 
 
 Yet judge not harshly, think him not unkind : 
 Good and indulgent, yet, like Isaac, blind j 
 Deluded he by Jacob's happier star, 
 He gave to Shestock what was due to Barr." 
 
 Great Barr House, for such the place was called, 
 was the mansion of a very beautiful though not 
 large estate. It was situated in an amphitheatre of 
 wooded hills, one of which was covered with noble 
 oak and beech trees, another with dark firs and 
 walnuts, and a third with young plantations. They 
 rose immediately behind the house. On the top of 
 the highest of these hills was a small area, in the 
 midst of a picturesque clump of aged Scotch firs, 
 where rose a flag-staff, as high as the mainmast of a 
 ship, which could be seen from a vast distance around. 
 Here, on days for receiving company, Sir Joseph 
 Scott had been used to hoist a flag with an inscrip- 
 tion similar to that on the staff itself, " A welcome 
 to all friends round the Wrekin." 
 
 From one of these wooded hills, we emerged upon 
 a wide hilly common and sheep path, which led to an 
 ancient manor-house, belonging to Sir J. Scott's 
 uncle, Mr. Hoo. This was one of those old-fashioned 
 houses in which dark oak timber alternates with the 
 lighter colour and material of the house itself; with 
 oriel windows and gable ends and bartizans. Around 
 it was an old-fashioned Dutch garden, full of fish- 
 ponds. In the garden stood a yew tree, the branches 
 extending about thirty-six yards round, which Dr. 
 
 vol. i. C 
 
18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Plott, nearly 150 years ago, celebrated in his History 
 of Staffordshire as the largest in England. Close 
 by was the Squire's kennel for his hounds, adorned 
 with stags' horns and other trophies of the chase. It 
 was a great amusement to us to go and see the 
 hounds led out. Mr. Hoo was quite an original, 
 and had a servant as original as himself. He was 
 an old bachelor. Some forty years before, he had 
 been on the point of marriage with a lady to whom 
 he was much attached, but the lady required him to 
 give up smoking and his hounds ; after a short demur, 
 he said, " there was no woman worth fifty hounds," 
 but that he should never love another, and would 
 never marry anybody else. He then shut himself up 
 in his manor-house, and never allowed any woman 
 to enter his doors. 
 
 When my father and mother occupied Barr, and 
 raised no obstacles to Mr. Hoo's sporting on our 
 grounds, he became very friendly towards us, and 
 an interchange of kindly presents went on between 
 us, he sending us game, and my mother in return 
 sending him turtle and West India sweetmeats. He 
 used to drink my mother's health as " the only rea- 
 sonable woman in the world." 
 
 Beyond Mr. Hoo's house the common ascended 
 and expanded into Sutton Coldfield. Just beyond 
 Barr Beacon, in the midst of a wild clump of trees, 
 was marked the spot where the Beacon had stood in 
 the time of the Druids. The panoramic view hence 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 19 
 
 was magnificent. Sutton Coldfield was a vast chase, 
 in part wooded, in part rough common, adorned with 
 every sort of wild flower, and interspersed with 
 woody ravines ; it extended over thirty miles. 
 Twelve miles off gleamed the three beautiful spires 
 of Lichfield Cathedral— " The Ladies of the Vale," 
 as they were called. In another direction was the 
 little town of Walsall, and many beautiful villages 
 and hamlets. In the distance rose, like a blue haze, 
 the smoke from the vast ironworks at Coalbrook 
 Dale, and beyond, forty miles off, the great Wrekin. 
 The whole view was girdled in by the Malvern, the 
 Clent, the Cotswold, and Bredon Hills, and on a 
 very clear day some thought they could see King- 
 road. 
 
 This vast and wild scenery at the back of Barr 
 formed a remarkable contrast to the cheerful yet 
 secluded and peaceful view in front of the house, 
 which stood in a beautiful meadow of about forty 
 acres, terminated on the right by a woody landscape, 
 whence emerged the tower of the village church. 
 In fact, though not seen from the house, a wild 
 irregular avenue of lofty and aged Scotch firs ran 
 over an undulating ground, from Mr. Hoo's old 
 manor-house at Barr Beacon to the entrance of the 
 church. My impression is that it must have ex- 
 tended a mile. This avenue was occupied by a vast 
 rookery ; the cawings of the rooks reached the house, 
 
 VOL. I. *c 2 
 
20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 softened by the distance ; and in our walks we delighted 
 to watch their evolutions. A brook ran through the 
 meadow, bordered with wild flowers. To this clay I 
 love the orchis and the cowslip, from the multitude 
 which grew there. This brook ran into a pool, which 
 in its turn formed a cascade, to wdiose murmurings I 
 loved to listen. 
 
 At the top of the meadow was a grove called 
 " The Ladies' Wood;" this was one of our favourite 
 resorts to sit and read in. The grounds of Ban- 
 were entered from the Birmingham Road by a 
 carriage drive under aged oaks, wdience sloped down 
 a steep precipice to a wild mill-stream, filled with 
 flags and bulrushes, and the haunt of the heron and 
 the kingfisher. This was separated by a wooden 
 dam from a second lake of a very different charac- 
 ter, as clear as a looking-glass. Another favourite 
 haunt for reading or botanising was by an old saw- 
 pit, where, on logs of w r ood, many a time I sat and 
 read Virgil's first Eclogue, listening to the wild bees 
 and the woodlark's song. 
 
 Such w r as the scenery of Barr. I will say a few 
 words of the house itself, because I believe both of 
 these had a material effect on my character. The 
 house had been built at very various times. There 
 were four or five different halls, and as many differ- 
 ent staircases. It was more like an assemblage of 
 several houses under the same roof, than the unity 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 21 
 
 of one dwelling. One part was occupied by the 
 apartment of my parents, my own, my sister's, and 
 our two schoolrooms. Another part of the new 
 building contained the rooms of our visitors, of whom 
 we always had several ; another, the rooms of the 
 servants, and a third the nurseries of my younger 
 brothers and sisters. Owing to this mode of arrange- 
 ment, it resulted that each formed a little clan to 
 itself, and ordinarily we met our visitors and 
 each other only in the public family-rooms at meal- 
 times. 
 
 My dear mother, in her scrupulous care, wished 
 to insure that her children should never by any 
 means hold intercourse with servants ; and, in her 
 anxiety to effect this, we were forbidden to pass 
 through that lobby which lay near the servants' 
 offices and formed the only access to the children's 
 nursery. She took the greatest pains that we might 
 receive no contamination from ignoble minds, no 
 vulgarism of habits or ideas. The religious Society 
 to which she belonged did not, as I have said, at 
 that time inculcate a distinct view of Christian truth ; 
 and she probably thought that it was enough to 
 guard against evils from without. But true love 
 either to God or man is an exotic of celestial growth, 
 and needs a constant fostering, not only by devoted- 
 ness to God, but by the habitual practice of for- 
 bearance, self-denial, and self-discipline towards man. 
 c 3 
 
22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Her noble heart always led her to pour forth her 
 beneficent brightness on all around her ; but my 
 heart was different, I was fearful and sensitive. I 
 learnt in my isolation to wrap myself up in my own 
 feelings ; and, to this clay, oh how deeply do I regret 
 my want of social perception and sympathy ! 
 
 And now I will dwell, for a few minutes, on the 
 earliest part of my childhood at Barr. Soon after 
 we went there, we — that is my sister and myself — 
 had a Swiss governess, a young person about six- 
 teen, the daughter of M. Venel, a celebrated sur- 
 geon at Orbe. She had never left her home before ; 
 in truth, her own education was by no means 
 finished, but my parents hoped to train and educate 
 her in what they wished. 
 
 I had a pretty little bedroom assigned to me, 
 looking out on a lovely view ; and my mother made 
 me a present of a cabinet bookcase, which, after the 
 lapse of sixty- six years, stands this day in my room. 
 It is almost the only relic left of my early and much 
 loved home. The room opposite was our pleasant 
 schoolroom, and through it was a bedroom occupied 
 by my sister and the governess. These three rooms, 
 and the staircase leading to them, formed our apart- 
 ments. At the bottom of the staircase was a little 
 unoccupied room, which looked out on a flat roof 
 covering some of the offices. It used to be a great 
 delight to me, as soon as I had learnt my geography 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENXINCK. 03 
 
 or Latin, to spread out the map on this root 1 , and 
 call to Polly King, the little girl I have mentioned, 
 and shout out my lesson and teach it to her ; in which 
 lesson, when next she came to wait on me, I failed 
 not to examine her. 
 
 We used to delight in our rambles about the 
 beautiful hills, and woods, and meadows of Ban*. 
 Nor must I forget, as one of my great pleasures, that 
 of occasionally meeting in our walks the Swiss bonne 
 who attended my little brothers and sisters. She 
 was gifted with a clear, deep, and sonorous voice ; 
 my governess possessed great taste, and was not 
 deficient in a knowledge of music ; both passionately 
 loved their country. How often would they sit on 
 some fallen tree under the lofty pines I have de- 
 scribed as near the flag-staff, where, after long con- 
 versing on their fatherland, its magnificent Alps, its 
 wide-spread lakes, its pastures and its chalets, they 
 would sing in parts the " Ranz des Vaches." Never 
 can I forget the deep pathos of that song ; every 
 note thrilled through the soul ; and I think a Swiss 
 could scarcely have felt it more than I ; whilst the 
 mountains, clad in snow, or bright in varied light, 
 the Lake of Geneva, with the Rhone gliding through 
 it, the Jura, Lausanne, the rocks of Meillerie and 
 Yverdun, seemed to rise before my mind almost with 
 the vividness of sight ; and, even to the present clay, 
 Switzerland seems to me rather like a home of my 
 c 4 
 
24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 heart known in childhood, than a picture of the 
 imagination. How well I remember, when at the 
 close of one of these times, my young governess 
 burst into tears, and exclaimed, " He does not know 
 the glories of God who has not seen Switzerland ! " 
 
 My father was extremely fond of botany ; and 
 during our walks we were constantly occupied in 
 looking for new plants, which my French governess 
 would afterwards draw under his direction. We 
 were likewise employed in learning entomology. We 
 sallied forth with our little boxes covered with 
 glass slides, in which to put the insects we might 
 catch, being always careful to add some of the 
 leaves of the plants on which they were found, that 
 they might have a happy time whilst we took them 
 home ; and at breakfast, or after dinner or tea, we 
 brought them to my father's or my mother's table, with 
 our books of natural history and a microscope, and 
 after we had learnt all we could concerning them, 
 we released our little prisoners. Then my parents 
 would tell us interesting stories, explaining the uses 
 to which God had appointed even these minute 
 creatures, and adding many exhortations to show 
 kindness towards them. I well remember the in- 
 tense interest with which I once examined a wasps' 
 nest, and also the rose-like nest of the paper bee. 
 It was a great pleasure to me to observe and watch 
 the various birds with which Barr abounded. One 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 25 
 
 day, I found in our walk a little magpie not fully 
 grown, which had received some hurt. We took 
 him home to nurse, and tried to tame him. My 
 father read to me an account of the natural history 
 of this bird ; and I was much delighted with the 
 description of Plutarch's magpie, which imitated all 
 the evolutions of a flourish of trumpets, and from 
 that time I determined to commence the education 
 of my magpie. Every day I found a great spur to 
 learning my own Latin vocabulary in trying to 
 teach it to my little pet ; and as we happened to 
 have a grey parrot at the same time, it was an object 
 of great interest to see which of my pupils would make 
 most progress ; and when my governess laughed at 
 me for expecting that my magpie should excel 
 Plutarch's, and my parrot equal Prince Maurice's, 
 I used to say, " Lord Chatham says : ' I trample on 
 impossibilities ; and what man has done, man may 
 do.' " 
 
 About this time my mother used to read with us 
 daily " Les Veillees du Chateau." We were par- 
 ticularly delighted with the history of Alphonse ; for 
 my mother, like Madame de Genlis, never allowed 
 us to read fairy tales, because they had no foundation 
 in truth. My father gave us the explanation of all 
 the wonders we read of in Alphonse ; and when my 
 mother also read to us one account after another of 
 burning mountains, showers of blood, hills of load- 
 
26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 stone, and I was told all these things were true, I 
 was in astonishment that we never met with any of 
 them. I expected every morning, when we began 
 our walk, that we should certainly fall in with some 
 of these wonders, and was greatly disappointed when 
 day after day passed without bringing them. I have 
 often since thought that my dear mother was perhaps 
 mistaken in thinking that fairy tales and the " Ara- 
 bian Nights " would have imbued her children's minds 
 with false views of nature ; whereas, in point of fact, 
 a child told that the wonders of a fairy tale are a 
 fiction, allows for its machinery as grown people do 
 for that of Homer or Virgil ; but, being told that all 
 these wonders are actual facts, he is really led to 
 take a totally false measure of the probability of 
 their occurrence : and thus it was with us ; we were 
 made so familiar with the exceptions in what is called 
 nature, that we learnt to expect them as the rule. 
 
 Another very favourite book with me at that time 
 was Mrs. Barbauld's Prose Hymns for Children. I 
 cannot express the delight it often was to me to walk 
 out alone and look at the beautiful hills, and wood, 
 and water, or the flowers, and the happy birds, and 
 insects, and to think that God had made them all in 
 wisdom and in love ; that He was my Father, and 
 • that I might speak to Him ; and I thought if this 
 world were beautiful, how much happier must it be 
 in a still brighter world with Him above. I recollect 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 27 
 
 one afternoon watching a funeral procession ; it was 
 a rustic funeral of a. young person whom I had 
 known; all the attendants were in white. I now 
 recall the procession slowly winding along the 
 meadow. As I followed it with my eye, the thought 
 arose, " Oh ! happy person ! then she is with God, 
 and she really sees that beautiful world which I can 
 only imagine." 
 
 Many passages, which my mother selected to read 
 to me from Stretche's " Beauties of History," 
 " Plutarch's Lives," and the " History of the Bar- 
 machides," had much effect in the formation of my 
 character. I loved to read of the wife of Tigranes, 
 Panthea and Abradates, of the history of Cyrus, of 
 Arria and Partus, of Aristides, and of Begulus. 
 This kind of reading, whilst it inculcated an abhor- 
 rence of much evil, likewise fostered the pride and 
 self-esteem of the natural heart, strengthened the 
 false idea of the dignity and excellence of unassisted 
 human nature, and tended to develope a presumptuous 
 self-confidence, which afterwards expanded in most evil 
 and unhappy fruits. How little do even the wisest of 
 parents feel, perhaps, that it is necessary not only that 
 their children should acquire a knowledge and admi- 
 ration of apparent good, but that they should watch 
 the root from which it really springs ; and often have 
 I, in after life, found in my own case that apparent 
 indifference to the world was strongly mingled with a 
 
28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 presumptuous reliance on self. I learnt to despise 
 the good opinion of others, and forgot that, in self- 
 approbation, I was seeking the approval of one as 
 weak and ignorant as any of the herd I despised, and 
 of which I really formed an unit. 
 
 I remember the great pleasure I often had at Barr 
 when the scene was enlivened by the hounds quietly 
 led forth, and the huntsmen and gentlemen in their 
 scarlet dresses; but sometimes, when I heard the 
 hounds rush by in full cry after their unfortunate 
 victim, my heart used to be so sad that I could attend 
 to neither book nor lesson. How earnestly did I wish 
 that I might meet " Squire Hoo " in my walks, and 
 speak to him as Harry Sandford did to " Squire 
 Chase." I used to pray to God to teach the poor 
 hare to escape ; or, sometimes, if I thought that un- 
 likely, I prayed that, in leaping over a certain fence, 
 the Squire might fall into a rushy quagmire, where 
 I well knew he could not be hurt, and where he 
 misfht have time to think of better things. Often, 
 again, my blood boiled with indignation at the 
 baseness of men worrying a poor innocent hare or 
 fox. How different, I thought, are such cowards 
 from Leoniclas or Mucius Scasvola. It is curious to 
 me now to observe how partly the love of God, and 
 partly an inordinate pride in opposition to it, seemed 
 alternately to rule in my mind. The same was true 
 in other instances. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 29 
 
 There are two things for which I am more espe- 
 cially indebted to my dear mother, amongst the in- 
 numerable benefits I received from her. One is, that 
 she always took the season of our Sunday talkings, in 
 which I poured out my mind to her as in the presence 
 of God, or as a Catholic to his confessor, to tell me of 
 my faults ; and that she represented her doing so as 
 a mark of her especial love and confidence, and of 
 her full assurance that it was my first wish to do 
 well and improve. She often ^told me that none 
 could be without faults, but that she wished her 
 child to be like Elzevir, who, as fast as he printed a 
 sheet, put it up at his window, offering a reward to 
 any one who could find one mistake. Elzevir was 
 much beloved, and, possessing many real friends, 
 they diligently looked out for every error, and, owing 
 to their kindness in doing this, his editions, she told 
 me, are the most perfect in the world. Sometimes, 
 too, she told me of Praxiteles, who, having produced 
 a most magnificent statue of Minerva, exhibited it 
 in like manner, calling on everybody to discover any 
 imperfection. By this means Praxiteles attained the 
 same eminence as a sculptor that Elzevir did in print- 
 ing. She would then take the Bible and show me 
 how Adam and Eve, after first eating the forbidden 
 fruit, continued and increased their fault by making 
 excuses. " Thus," she said, " thou seest that a sure 
 mark of desiring to do well is to seek to be told of 
 
30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 our faults : and, as thou growest older, thou wilt see 
 that those who love thee and think well of thy good 
 principle and sense, will tell thee of thy faults ; and, 
 as for those who do not, it is only because they do 
 not care for thee, or think thee too naughty and silly 
 to wish to amend them." 
 
 The second thing my mother taught me, and which 
 indeed is connected with the same principle, is to 
 value things at what they are and not at what they 
 seem. It had pleased God, by His blessing on the 
 industry of my grandfather and father, that I was 
 brought up in the midst of wealth and of everything 
 which pertained to what was really useful, either to 
 the physical or intellectual life ; but whilst this was 
 the case, there was not one single thing, either in the 
 furniture of our house or the appurtenances of its 
 inmates, which was for show or for fashion ; there was 
 a use for everything, and we were taught to despise 
 that which was not useful. No one saw at Barr the 
 least difference made on account of rank, or riches, or 
 fashion, though often, I am sorry to add, they might on 
 account of intellect. Our table, dress, and equipages 
 were precisely the same when we sat down to 
 dinner a family party of fourteen, as when we had 
 ten or twenty guests — with the simple difference of 
 the necessary additional quantity. The table at 
 breakfast, dinner, and supper was always beautifully 
 adorned with flowers, as were our sitting-rooms. 
 
MARY ANNE SCniMMELPENNINCK. 31 
 
 My mother was always handsomely and exactly 
 dressed, and she expected the same from all her 
 family. She said we should be and not seem; we 
 should do things to make home beautiful and cheer- 
 ful to those who live there, more even than for 
 others who may be occasional visitors; though they 
 equally demand our respect and attention. \Ve 
 were early taught to treat with the greatest courtesy 
 all our servants. 
 
 These principles have been a great blessing to me 
 in after life. I was then surrounded by every 
 luxury ; since that time I have often been sorely 
 straitened ; and now, in my old age, I am given a 
 sufficiency for necessary comforts, with economy ; 
 yet during the whole period of my life, I have, 
 owing to my dear mother's teaching, only felt the 
 pressure of real, not fictitious or conventional incon- 
 veniences or wants ; my happiness has never de- 
 pended on having a large house or a small one, 
 extensive grounds or no grounds, on possessing 
 equipages or possessing them not, on living without 
 consideration from those of my own original con- 
 dition in life, or living, like many of my family, as 
 petty sovereigns in the place where my early lot 
 was cast. Many long years of my life, and many 
 happy ones, have been passed in comparative destitu- 
 tion of these things, at a period when they would 
 have been merely conventional luxuries, and now 
 
32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that I am past three-score years and ten, God has in 
 his mercy restored to me those which my age has 
 rendered necessary comforts. How do I bless Him 
 for what He took away, for what He has restored, 
 and yet above all for my dear mother's teaching, 
 which enabled me to be happy in both conditions ! 
 It is curious to me at this distance of time to look 
 back and see how both the teaching of the word of 
 God and the dictates of uncontrolled pride grew up 
 and flourished in my mind like plants far apart in a 
 nursery bed, each of which grows in strength from 
 its own root, without yet having attained the size 
 in which their branches could meet and impede 
 each other. From the examples of Christ and His 
 apostles, I believed dress and things for mere orna- 
 ment and show to be absolutely evil ; from the pride 
 of my heart and the study of " Sandford and Merton," 
 I heartily despised all such things, to which I may 
 add titles and money, and I esteemed those little 
 better than fools who cared for any of them. On 
 one occasion Lady Scott came over from Boulogne 
 on a visit to my father's house. She had a French 
 maid with her, and was adorned with feathers, 
 flowers, and all sorts of finery. She came to trans- 
 act some business relative to Barr, and remained for 
 some weeks. I had never seen such gay dressing in 
 my life, and I really believed that Lady Scott was 
 labouring under an alienation of mind. One day 
 
MARY ANNE BCHIMMELPENNINCJC. 33 
 
 when my parents were out of the room, and I was 
 busily reading certain little books of Mr. New- 
 berry's library for children, adorned with gilt paper 
 covers, Lady Scott came up to me, took away my 
 books, and said : " So you have saved up your money 
 to buy these two gilded books; none but a silly 
 child would do so : go, take your slate and do a sum ; 
 for arithmetic, your father told you this morning, is 
 useful, and leads to certain results." I gave up my 
 book with a very ill grace, took up my slate and 
 occupied myself with it for some time, when my 
 mother coming in, I eagerly ran to her and said, 
 " Dost thou know that Lady Scott says she is two 
 hundred and fifty two times more silly than I? " My 
 mother asked what I meant ; I turned to Lady 
 Scott, and said ; <c Lady Scott says that none but a 
 silly child would spend sixpence in these two gilt 
 books ; because, she says, they are of little use : and 
 she told you at breakfast that her bracelets and 
 necklace, which are of no use at all, cost six guineas ; 
 now are there not two hundred and fifty-two six- 
 pences in six guineas ? besides, my books give me the 
 whole history of e Les Chiens celebres,' and tell me 
 how to rear silk-worms as they do in China." When 
 I was alone with my mother she said to me : " My 
 child, I want to speak to thee. Thou art quite right 
 in thinking that finery is of no use, and is silly; but 
 thou art quite wrong in thinking that Lady Scott is 
 VOL. i. D 
 
34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 silly because she wears finery. Many clever people 
 sometimes do foolish things ; for sense, like medi- 
 cine, is only useful in those cases to which it is 
 applied, and few apply it in everything. People 
 often act from custom, taking things as they find 
 them without thought. I hope thou wilt be too 
 wise to love finery thyself, and not be so ignorant as 
 to think all people silly who do differently. I hope 
 thou wilt go to Lady Scott's room directly and tell 
 her how very sorry thou art to have made so igno- 
 rant a speech, and that thou hopest she will pardon 
 it as that of a little girl who knew no better." I 
 went directly to Lady Scott, Avho received my apo- 
 logy most kindly, in token of which she gave me 
 leave to go every day into her room and feed her 
 little dog, " Comme-vous." 
 
 There was an old lady, Mrs. Matthews, ninety- 
 six years old, who had been housekeeper to one of 
 my mother's aunts, and who always came to stay 
 with us a few weeks every summer. As a great 
 treat, I was sometimes allowed to sit up and sup 
 with her in the study, where my fare was generally 
 brown bread and honey. One day Lady Scott 
 laughed at me for going to what she thought so poor 
 a treat. She told me, if I would visit her at Bou- 
 logne, I should have a very different supper. She 
 then enumerated a great number of nice and splen- 
 did things she thought I should like ; after which 
 
MARY ANNE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 35 
 
 she asked me if I would rather sup with old Mrs. 
 Matthews on brown bread, or with her on these 
 dainties. I stopped a moment, because I felt it was 
 kind of her to ask me, and then I replied : " With 
 Mrs. Matthews." She asked " Why?" I answered, 
 proudly : " Because I had rather sup with Fabricius 
 than Lucullus." She laughed ; and I added, feeling 
 her kindness : " Besides, perhaps you and the French 
 ladies have not heard what Jesus Christ says of the 
 unhappiness of those who wear purple and fine 
 linen, and fare sumptuously every day ; but I thank 
 you very much." Thus my Christian and anti- 
 Christian principles both led to the same condemna- 
 tion of finery. 
 
 One of our most constant visitors at Barr was 
 Miss de Luc, who generally came from Windsor to 
 pass two or three months with us every summer. I 
 used very much to like reading French with her, 
 and hearing from her anecdotes of the royal family, 
 George III., Queen Charlotte, and the princesses, 
 and also of Mrs. Delany and Dr. Herschel, who was 
 the intimate friend of M. de Luc. She likewise 
 often spoke of Miss Burney. I can hardly describe 
 the interest with which, many years afterwards, 
 I read Madame D'Arblay's Memoirs, which again 
 brought the scenes I had lived over in my childhood 
 so vividly before me, or how I enjoyed the truthful- 
 D 2 
 
36 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 ness of a description thus established by two wholly 
 distinct witnesses. 
 
 \Ye had many interesting visitors at Barr. My 
 father was a man of superior intellectual endow- 
 ments; he had much taste for the exact sciences, 
 in which he was eminently skilled. He was often 
 deeply occupied in courses of experiments on optics 
 and colours, and also on electricity and chemistry. 
 He had long been a member of the Royal Society, 
 and was one of the earliest members of the Linnasan 
 Society. These tastes led to an intercourse with 
 others of the like pursuits. My father belonged to 
 a little society of gifted men, who, spending a day 
 alternately once a month at the house of each of its 
 members, were called the Lunar Society. Amongst 
 them were Mr. Boulton, the father of Birmingham, 
 and the institutor of the Mint there ; and his partner, 
 Mr. Watt, whose immense general knowledge was the 
 delight of all who knew him, and whose discovery 
 in the application of steam has revolutionised the 
 process of manufactures and of land and ocean 
 travelling through the whole civilised world. Cap- 
 tain Keir, also, was one of this intellectual galaxy ; 
 he was the wit, the man of the world, the finished 
 gentleman, who gave life and animation to the 
 party. He often brought with him his intimate 
 friends Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Day. To this 
 society also belonged the celebrated Dr. Withering, 
 
MARY AXXE SCIIIMMELPEXXIXCK. £7 
 
 distinguished alike in botany and medicine ; and of 
 whom it was said, years afterwards, when his life 
 was terminating by a lingering consumption, " The 
 Flower of Physic is indeed Withering." Then 
 came Dr. Stoke, profoundly scientific and eminently 
 absent. On one occasion, wdien the Lunar meeting, 
 or " Lunatics," as our butler called them, were 
 seated at dinner, a blazing fire being in the room, 
 we w r ere astonished by hearing a sudden hissing 
 noise, and seeing a large and beautiful yellow and 
 black snake rushing about the room. My dear 
 mother, who saw it was not venomous, said to me : 
 " Mary Anne, go and catch that snake;" which, 
 after some trouble, and thinking all the while of 
 little Harry Sandford and Tommy Merton, I suc- 
 ceeded in accomplishing. We were wondering 
 where it could have come from, when Dr. Stoke 
 said that, as he was riding along, he had seen the 
 poor animal frozen on a bank, and put it in his pocket 
 to dissect, but the snake had thawed, and escaped 
 from his pocket. The doctor praised me very much 
 for my prowess in the capture of the snake, and, as 
 a reward, he made me a present of my prisoner, 
 which I long kept in a glass jar, and carefully tended 
 every day ; at last, however, I gave him his freedom. 
 Another, and, though mentioned last, not the 
 least valuable of these friends, was Dr. Priestley, the 
 father of discoveries on air; a man of admirable 
 d 3 
 
38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 simplicity, gentleness, and kindness of heart, united 
 with great acuteness of intellect. I can never 
 forget the impression produced on me by the 
 serene expression of his countenance. He, indeed, 
 seemed present with God by recollection, and with 
 man by cheerfulness. I well remember that in the 
 assembly of these distinguished men, amongst whom 
 Mr. Boulton, by his noble manners, his fine counte- 
 nance (which much resembled that of Louis XIV.), 
 and princely munificence, stood pre-eminently as the 
 great Mecamas, even as a child, I used to feel 
 when Dr. Priestley entered after him, that the glory 
 of the one was terrestrial, that of the other celestial ; 
 and utterly far as I am removed from a belief of the 
 sufficiency of Dr. Priestley's theological creed, I 
 cannot but here record this evidence of the eternal 
 power of any portion of truth held in vitality. I 
 believe that no Divine truth can truly dwell in any 
 heart without an external testimony in manner, bear- 
 ing, and appearance, that must reach the witness 
 within the heart of the beholder, and bear an un- 
 mistakable, though silent evidence, to the eternal 
 principle from which it emanates. How often have 
 I wished, in after life, that those who were in pos- 
 session of far more complete views of Christian truth 
 than Dr. Priestley, had held them half as vitally. 
 I have often thought that some estimable Unitarians 
 whom I have known resembled a living man with 
 
MARY ANXE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 39 
 
 the loss of some important limb, whilst I have un- 
 happily lived to see many orthodox professors who, 
 like a corpse or a mummy, exhibited all the form 
 and lineaments of truth, but were destitute of one 
 vital spark. 
 
 Besides the distinguished men I have mentioned, 
 Dr. Parr was a frequent attendant at the Lunar 
 meetings ; also Dr. Darwin, who, like Mr. Keir, 
 was a friend of Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Day. I 
 might name other interesting and distinguished per- 
 sons of which this Society formed a nucleus ; as, for 
 example, Sir AY. Herschel and Sir Joseph Banks, 
 Dr. Solander and Dr. Afzelius* Each member of 
 this Society was indeed himself a centre of intel- 
 lectual friends, as well foreign as English ; and every 
 member was at liberty to bring any of his friends 
 with him. 
 
 Perhaj^s it may be well to take this opportunity 
 to make a few further observations on the members 
 of the Lunar Society ; for the external bearing and 
 appearance of such eminent men may be interesting 
 at a period when phrenology and physiognomy are 
 by some considered as sciences ; and though at that 
 time I was a mere child, yet my observation was 
 very early directed to the study of physiognomy. 
 My acquaintance with this circle continued from the 
 time I was eight years old till I w r as four or five and 
 twenty, so that the aspect, form, and manner of each 
 
 D 4 
 
40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 individual was deeply engraven on my memory ; and 
 when many years afterwards I heard phrenological 
 lectures, I could with the greatest ease apply them 
 to my remembrances of some of its more distinguished 
 members. Mr. Boulton was one of those whose 
 characteristics I clearly recollect. He was in per- 
 son tall, and of a noble appearance ; his temperament 
 was sanguine, with that slight mixture of phlegmatic 
 which gives calmness and dignity ; his manners were 
 eminently open and cordial ; he took the lead in con- 
 versation*, and w T ith a social heart had a grandiose 
 manner like that arising from position, wealth, and 
 habitual command. He went among his people like a 
 monarch bestowing largess. His forehead w T as mao-- 
 nificent ; the organs of comparison, constructiveness, 
 and of individuality w T ere immense. The character- 
 istics of his partner, Mr. Watt, were altogether 
 different. Mr. Boulton was a man to rule society 
 with dignity ; Mr. Watt, to lead the contemplative 
 life of a deeply introverted and patiently observant 
 philosopher. He was one of the most complete speci- 
 mens of the melancholic temperament. His head 
 was generally bent forward or leaning on his hand 
 in meditation, his shoulders stooping and his chest 
 falling in ; his limbs lank and unmuscular, and his 
 complexion sallow. His intellectual development 
 was magnificent ; comparison and causality immense, 
 with large ideality and constructiveness, individu- 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELrENXIXCK. 41 
 
 ality, and enormous concentrativeness and caution. 
 Whilst Mr. Bonlton's eye and countenance had 
 something of radiance, Mr. Watt's were calm, as if 
 patiently investigating, or quietly contemplating his 
 object. His utterance was slow and unimpassioned, 
 deep and low in tone, with a broad Scottish accent ; 
 his manners gentle, modest, and unassuming. In a 
 company where he was not known, unless spoken to 
 he might have tranquilly passed the whole time in 
 pursuing his own meditations. But this could not 
 well happen ; for in point of fact everybody practi- 
 cally knew the infinite variety of his talents and 
 stores of knowledge. When Mr. Watt entered a 
 room, men of letters, men of science, nay, military 
 men, artists, ladies, even little children thronged 
 round him. I remember a celebrated Swedish 
 artist having been instructed by him that rats' 
 whiskers make the most pliant and elastic painting- 
 brush ; ladies would appeal to him on the best 
 means of devising grates, curing smoking chimneys, 
 warming their houses, and obtaining fast colours. I 
 can speak from experience of his teaching me how 
 to make a dulcimer and improve a Jew's harp. 
 
 Many years after this, I think it was during the 
 peace of Amiens, Mr. Watt visited Paris. It so 
 happened that while going through one of the 
 palaces, I believe the Tuileries, a French house- 
 maid appeared much perplexed concerning some 
 
42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 bright English stoves which had just been received, 
 and which she knew not how to clean. An English 
 gentleman was standing by, to whom she appealed 
 for information. This was Charles James Fox. He 
 could give no help : " But," said he, " here is a 
 fellow-countryman of mine who will tell you all 
 about it." This was Mr. Watt, to whom he was at 
 the moment talking ; and who accordingly gave full 
 instructions as to the best mode of cleaning a bright 
 grate. This anecdote I have often heard Mrs. Watt 
 tell with great diversion. 
 
 Quite different from that of those I have de- 
 scribed was the aspect of Dr. "Withering. He was 
 the personification of that which belongs to a phy- 
 sician and a naturalist ; enormous were his organs of 
 proportion and individuality, and great were his 
 powers of active investigation and accurate detail. 
 His features were sharpened by minute and sagacious 
 observation. He was kind, but his great accuracy 
 and caution rendered his manner less open, and it 
 had neither the wide popularity of Mr. Boulton's, 
 nor the attraction of Mr. Watt's true modesty. 
 When Dr. Withering was writing his work on 
 Fungi, it was often the occupation and interest of 
 our walks as children to search for the curious 
 sj)ecies in which the woods of Barr abounded; but 
 as it was expected we should bring some new speci- 
 mens almost daily (which was no easy task), and as 
 
MARY AXXE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 43 
 
 my father happened to be showing us experiments 
 with various acids and alkalies in solutions of metals, 
 we often amused ourselves by painting over the 
 fungi in sundry methods in order to increase our 
 variety and puzzle the doctor, and it was not till 
 long after that we told him of our misdeeds. 
 
 Such are some of my recollections of the Lunar 
 meetings. It was at one of them, at the house of 
 Dr. Priestley, that my father first met the Rev. Joseph 
 Berrington, a Roman Catholic gentleman, who, as 
 it happened, was the Catholic priest of Oscott, 
 a small hamlet about a mile and a half from Ban*. 
 My father invited him to visit us. I never shall 
 forget the impression that the sight of Mr. Berring- 
 ton made upon me, when I was not eight years old. 
 It was tea-time, on a summer afternoon. The 
 drawingroom at Barr was very large, and especially 
 it was a very wide room. The door opened, and Mr. 
 Berrington appeared ; a tall and most majestic figure. 
 I had never seen anything like that lofty bearing 
 with which he crossed the room to speak to my 
 mother ; his courtly bow, down, as it seemed to me, 
 almost to the ground, and then his raising himself up 
 again to his full height, as if all the higher for his 
 depression. Mr. Berrington was in person very re- 
 markable; he was then about fifty; his complexion 
 and hair partook of the sanguine, his prominent 
 temperament ; and this gave a lightness and relief 
 
44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to his angular and well-cut features. His counte- 
 nance exhibited, if one may so say, sternness and 
 mirthfulness in different proportions ; his nostrils 
 were slightly fastidious ; his mouth closed like fate. 
 His conversation abounded in intellectual pleasantry ; 
 he was a finished gentleman of the old school, and a 
 model of the ecclesiastical decorum of the church of 
 ancient monuments and memories ; his cold, stern eye 
 instantly silenced any unbecoming levity either on 
 religion or morality ; his bearing was that of a prince 
 amongst his people, not from worldly position, but 
 from his sacerdotal office, while his ancient and high 
 family seemed but a slight appendage to the dignity 
 of his character. His voice was deep and majestic, 
 like the baying of a blood-hound ; and when he in- 
 toned Mass, every action seemed to thrill through the 
 soul. I have thus spoken at length of Mr. Berring- 
 ton, as the well-known historian of the " Literature 
 of the Middle Ages," and of that of the eleventh and 
 twelfth centuries, and as the author of other popular 
 and historical works. He was our most intimate 
 neighbour at Barr. Three or four days seldom 
 passed without his joining our dinner or tea-table ; 
 and as his house at Oscott was the rendezvous of 
 much Catholic society, from that time Catholics 
 became our social visitors, and many of them were 
 yet more intimately connected with us. We re- 
 gularly had fish on Wednesdays, Fridays, and 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 45 
 
 Saturdays, as it was more than likely some of them 
 would drop in ; and they were ever welcome. 
 Amongst these I should especially mention Bishop 
 Berrington, cousin to our Mr. Berrington ; Dr. Ben, 
 an eminent doctor of the Sorbonne ; Miss Henrietta 
 Berrington, who often stayed months with her 
 brother and months with us, and became one of our 
 most intimate friends ; likewise Miss Lunn, after- 
 wards Mrs. Xevc. 
 
 Amongst the visitors who continually sojourned 
 with us at Barr, were the venerable Judge Oliver 
 and his niece Miss Clarke, with whom, as I have 
 mentioned, an acquaintance had begun at Five 
 Ways ; the eccentric Lord Monboddo ; and lastly, 
 my grandfather Barclay, whose residence was at 
 Urie, the home of our venerated ancestor, Robert 
 Barclay, the Apologist. He generally came to us 
 twice a year, when he attended or returned from 
 Parliament. He was member for Kincardineshire. 
 Of all the pleasures of my childhood, by far the 
 greatest and the sweetest in recollection were the 
 visits, whether of days or weeks, to my dear grand- 
 father at Dudson. I can hardly say how delightful 
 to me was the quiet, the spirit of love and order and 
 peace which characterised his household. The family, 
 as I remember it, consisted of my grandfather himself 
 and of Lizzie Forster. She had formerly superin- 
 tended the education of my aunts, my father's sisters, 
 
46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 but after the death of my grandmother and my aunts 
 Lizzie Forster continued her post as head of the 
 establishment. My grandfather himself presented so 
 striking a likeness to William Penn in West's pic- 
 ture of the Treaty with the Indians, that I never knew 
 any person who had seen both who was not struck 
 by it. He was very cheerful, orderly, active, acute 
 as a man of business, and most kindly in his consi- 
 deration and thought for the welfare and happiness 
 of all about him. Whilst my mother bestowed out 
 of her benevolent heart like a noble benefactress, 
 my grandfather gave in a benevolent, considerate, 
 and business-like way ; with brotherly kindness he 
 ascertained what would add to the well-being of his 
 people, and supplied the want kindly, beneficently, 
 yet not lavishly, with a completeness that showed his 
 pleasure in giving, yet with an orderly economy. He 
 considered himself as a responsible steward, and as 
 his fortune had been the fruit of God's blessing on 
 industry, he desired, remembering the labour of his 
 youth, to reward industry in others, and to make as 
 many hearts as he could, light and grateful to God 
 the Giver, never seeking to fix the eye of the receiver 
 on himself. 
 
 Lizzie Forster was, like my grandfather, truly a 
 Friend in appearance and in principle. She was a 
 person of excellent understanding, high principle, 
 the kindest heart, distinguished for sagacious obser- 
 
MARY AXXE SCIIIMMELPEXXIXCK. 47 
 
 vation and keen wit, stedfast and self-possessed. 
 She held that place of high respect, in my grand- 
 father's establishment and amongst his friends, which 
 those always will hold who act firmly upon the love 
 and fear of God, and whose bearing readies the 
 inward testimony in the heart of the beholder; that 
 in nothing do they come forward from self-will, and 
 in nothing do they hold back or compromise the 
 divine teaching ; and that, neither deluded by their 
 own voice nor that of others, they know and sedu- 
 lously follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. 
 
 Lizzie Forster was also eminent for a tact and 
 prudence, which gave her an exquisite sense what 
 to do and what to leave undone, what to regulate 
 and what to leave uninterfered with, in the family in 
 which her lot was cast, but to which she was not 
 united by blood. I ever respected and loved her, 
 length of years and experience have only added to my 
 high veneration for her memory. 
 
 All the servants at Dudson, from the butler down 
 to the humblest labourer in the garden, seemed to 
 partake of the influence of the heads of the house- 
 hold. All the habits, all the pursuits and conversa- 
 tion, were tinctured by kindliness and usefulness ; 
 and the spirit of quietude and love which reigned 
 there, was a delightful rest after the intellectuality, 
 the brilliance, and the constant mental stimulus of 
 Barr. 
 
48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Well do I recollect my dear grandfather's cheerful 
 voice, as, at about six o'clock, on a bright summer 
 morning, he would call me to accompany him in his 
 early walk, or, if he were suffering from the gout, 
 to walk by his wheel-chair round the shrubbery. 
 First we used to visit the little garden he had given 
 me, and watch the growth of the seeds or roots I 
 had planted there under his direction. Then we 
 proceeded to the hothouse or conservatories, where 
 my grandfather affixed to various bunches of grapes 
 or pines the names of invalid friends or others, to 
 whom they might be a comfort. If I had been a 
 good child,he would let me affix the tickets, and would 
 teach me to print the names on them, or perhaps 
 allow me to be the bearer of some of his gifts. And 
 then he liked to visit his bees in their o-lass hives, 
 whence he drew many a lesson on industry. He 
 was likewise a great florist, and delighted to 
 visit his greenhouse, his auriculas, or other choice 
 flowers. Then we proceeded to the pond, or rather, 
 perhaps, lake, since the stream on which Birming- 
 ham stands runs through it. This lake occupied 
 eight or ten acres, and was of a considerable 
 length. It was truly beautiful ; its borders in- 
 dented, and clothed with the finest willows and 
 poplars I ever saw. The stillness was delightful, 
 interrupted only by some sparkling leaping fish, or 
 the swallow skimming in circles over the water, the 
 
MARY ANNE SCH1MMELPENNINCK. 49 
 
 hissing of the swans from their two woody islets, or 
 the cries of the wild fowl from the far off sedges and 
 bulrushes. It used to be a delight to me, when 
 standing near my grandfather in a rustic fishing- 
 house at the farthest end of the pool, he applied to 
 his lips a little silver whistle (such as now, sixty-six 
 years after, I wear in remembrance of him), and 
 immediately the surface of the lake seemed instinct 
 with life. Water-fowl, of all descriptions, rose from 
 their coverts, and hurried towards us : the heavy 
 Muscovy ducks, sheldrakes, Burrow ducks from 
 the Severn, sea-gulls, Canada and Cape and tall 
 Peruvian geese, and the little moor-hen and teal, 
 half-sailing, half-flying, with six majestic swans, all 
 drew near to be fed. How well do I remember my 
 grandfather then saying to me : " Thou canst not do 
 much good, and canst feed but a very few animals ; 
 yet how pleasant it is to do even that ! God, the 
 Father of all, opens His hand, and all His creatures 
 on the face of the wide earth are filled with <rood. 
 How blessed is He ! " 
 
 Then my grandfather would visit his mill, which 
 was near the lake ; there he inquired after all his 
 workmen, went to the cottages of any that were ill, 
 and was sure to leave some substantial evidence of 
 his visit, besides the kind word which accompanied 
 all his gifts. Pleasant were his friendly calls on 
 some infirm or aged person, or sickly child, and sure 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
50 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 were those who diligently attended his school of a 
 reward. 
 
 On our return to breakfast, my grandfather would 
 make me partake of his little ration of toast and 
 clotted cream, and then came the pleasure of throw- 
 ing open the window, and spreading corn with salt 
 on the large pigeon board. How I enjoyed the 
 sudden flight of almond tumblers, Jacobins, pouters, 
 carrier pigeons, and doves, with many other sorts, 
 and to hear their busy beaks on the board making, 
 what I used to call, " pigeons' hail." How eagerly 
 I listened when my grandfather pointed out to me 
 the deep attachment of the carrier pigeon to her 
 home, of the queest to her nest, of the turtle-dove to 
 her mate ; that they could only flourish upon corn, 
 and all their food seasoned with salt. He also 
 showed me their beautiful but sober plumage, and 
 pointed out, when they soared up aloft, how bright 
 their iridescent colours appeared in the sun. I 
 loved to learn all these particulars concerning the 
 Columbidae in my childhood, but how many years 
 after was it, when, in a different phase of mind, and 
 under a different teaching, I felt the force and beauty 
 of the Christian symbol, that pure and holy dove-like 
 spirit which wanders not from its home, — the heart 
 of her Lord, — and can never be separated in affection 
 from Him to whom her heart is consecrated ; who 
 feeds on the living bread, the corn of the kingdom, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 51 
 
 whose thirst can be assuaged only by the living 
 waters, and whose food is seasoned with salt ; and, 
 finally, whose external garb and bearing, modest, 
 sober, and unobtrusive, is yet radiant with a heavenly 
 light, caught from a beam of that Sun of righteous- 
 ness in whom her heart delights. My grandfather 
 only told me the facts of natural history ; but I have 
 thought, in long after years, that he had a deeper 
 meaning, whilst he waited till the word and Spirit of 
 God might itself explain the living truth to my 
 heart ; and oh ! how often have I blessed him for it ! 
 
 It was a great pleasure to me, at my grandfather's, 
 to listen to Lizzie Forster as she read aloud the 
 lives of good men, or the accounts of the efforts 
 made for abolishing slavery ; and many a word of 
 life, which they perhaps little thought I heeded, 
 dropped like a seed, which, though long buried, 
 sprang up in after years in my soul. 
 
 I loved, too, to assist my grandfather in arranging 
 old letters and papers from friends of his youth, or 
 of his ancestors. Many of these old letters were 
 so worn with time that they scarcely hung together, 
 and my grandfather often read me some of their 
 contents. I can well recall the feeling of awe with 
 which I touched these papers, and looked upon the 
 very handwriting and familiar expressions of daily 
 life of those who had so long slept in the grave. I 
 felt they were my relations, my own flesh and blood ; 
 E 2 
 
52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 they were once mirthful and cheerful, and talked as 
 we talk, and now where are they ? Where we shall 
 soon be. Who will look over our letters, as we look 
 over theirs ? Will our souls be with God in happi- 
 ness, or .shall we be blotted out ? And will the 
 letters we leave behind speak a blessing or a curse 
 from the dead to the living ? These feelings sunk 
 deeply into my mind. 
 
 One more anecdote respecting my grandfather. 
 He was most kind to us his grandchildren, but I be- 
 lieve yet more especially to me, who w r as three years 
 and a half older than any of the others, and who from 
 delicate health always preferred the quiet society of 
 those older than myself, to children's play. It was 
 his custom to give each of his grandchildren a 
 guinea on the day of their birth, and on every 
 birthday to add another, paying us also interest on 
 the former. When we w T ere seven years old he 
 made us begin to keep the account ourselves. This 
 was to go on till each attained the age of twenty- 
 one, when he intended the whole sum as a little pre- 
 sent ; besides this, he frequently gave me money, 
 sometimes half a crown, sometimes a guinea. He 
 gave me also a little account-book in which he 
 desired I should accurately set down everything I 
 received and expended. This was contrary to my 
 natural taste and habits ; it was also very different 
 from my dear mother's magnificent manner of spend- 
 
MART ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 53 
 
 ing and acting in all that related to money ; but one 
 day my grandfather called me to him and said : " My 
 child, thou didst not like when I advised thee the 
 other day, to save thy sixpence, instead of spending 
 it in barberry drops and burnt almonds. But dost 
 thou remember that the beautiful flowers in thy gar- 
 den so sweet and so bright, all grow from those ugly 
 brown roots thou wert so busy planting, and that it 
 was so much trouble to weed and to water ? And so 
 the bright pleasure of being generous can in like 
 manner only grow from the homely root of self- 
 denial. Dost thou remember too, the Black and the 
 cocoa-nut ? " This alluded to the following incident. 
 I had often heard of cocoa-nuts, and read descriptions 
 of them, growing in the country of the Blacks, from 
 the beautiful cocoa-nut palm ; and I had been told 
 that the pulp and the milk were delicious, and the 
 husk good to make cordage, and that the shell would 
 make a beautiful cup. It had long been the object 
 of my ambition to possess a cocoa-nut. When I was 
 five years old, my grandfather, to my great joy, 
 brought me a magnificent one from Liverpool. I 
 l.ad set my heart upon making a little feast for the 
 whole family, myself included, with its contents, and 
 in my mind's eye I already saw its shell turned into 
 a cup. Just at this time a gentleman's servant, a 
 Black, came to our house with his master, a West- 
 India captain. I had never seen a Black before, 
 
 E 3 
 
54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 was frightened, and called him " ramoneur," thinking 
 he was a chimney-sweeper ; but on its being ex- 
 plained to me that he was a negro, that he had been 
 kidnapped from his country, and taken from his 
 family and friends, and brought away and sold for a 
 slave in Jamaica, and that he could never see his 
 country more, I immediately ran for my cocoa-nut 
 and gave it him, saying : " This is from your 
 country ; it is all I have to give you, but take it and 
 welcome." The servant was ever after very kind to 
 me, and I remembered the pleasure I had in giving 
 the cocoa-nut was very much greater than I could 
 have had in eating it and making a cup of it. " Thus," 
 my grandfather said, " thou seest the best pleasures 
 arise from self-denial; we cannot be self-denying 
 wisely till we know the real value of what we give 
 up ; that is why I wish thee to keep exact ac- 
 counts." 
 
 My grandfather's household was a strictly Friendly 
 one, and there were some about him very anxious to 
 train me in the habits of Friends. One of these per- 
 sons sometimes said to me : " See how beautiful are 
 the sober and unobtrusive colours of the linnet, of 
 the dove, and the red-breast. I hope thou wilt imitate 
 them in thy attire." I would answer: " But art 
 thou not glad though that it pleased God not to 
 create grandpapa's peacocks and golden pheasants on 
 Friends' principles?" Nevertheless, I was deeply 
 
MARY ANXE SCIIIMMELPENNIM K. 
 
 attached to Friends. It was one of my greatest 
 pleasures to be taken to the Friends' meeting, either 
 on the Sunday or week days, and scarcely knowing 
 it, I felt the influence of that holy presence 
 of God, visibly recognised by so many persons 
 whose garb marked them as withdrawn from the 
 world, and whose countenances for the most part 
 bore the impress of love and peace. I felt as one 
 entering an overshadowing summer cloud where the 
 presence of light is felt, though no distinct object is 
 seen ; and I well remember after my own childish 
 " meeting " was over, as I used to watch the progress 
 of the sunbeam as it successively illuminated the 
 countenances of those on the benches before me, how 
 often did I say to myself, " Oh, that a ray of light 
 from God like that sunbeam would come to me and 
 teach me truly to know Him ! " And though this 
 was not vouchsafed to me at that time, yet never can 
 I sufficiently express my deep obligations to the 
 Friends I met at my grandfather's. They did not in- 
 deed bring forward dogmatic truth, as I have heard so 
 many do since ; possibly there was not enough of this ; 
 but still further were they removed from the irreve- 
 rent habit of bandying about the most sacred truths 
 as subjects of superficial and colloquial discussion. 
 Deep and reverent was their feeling that the truth of 
 God can only be taught to the heart of man by the 
 Spirit of God; hence they lived the truth instead of 
 
 E 4 
 
56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 talking about it. Their habitual recollection, if it 
 did not announce the dogma, inspired a living sense 
 of the Divine omnipresence and omniscience. Their 
 chastened language and voice, and peaceful placidity 
 of manner, spoke a sense of their accountability to 
 that Supreme Power in whom they confided. The 
 caution and guardedness, and yet definite correctness, 
 with which they declared their sentiments, bore with 
 it an impress of a humble consciousness of fallibility 
 and a feeling of the preciousness of truth. Their 
 seasons of silence seemed to utter, " with a silent 
 tongue," " Acquaint thyself with God and be at 
 peace." The indefatigable industry and zeal with 
 which they pursued plans of benevolence told that 
 their hearts recognised that God had indeed made of 
 one blood all the children of men. 
 
 To return to Barr. It was about this time, or it 
 might be before, for I was a very little child, that 
 my parents received a letter announcing the death 
 of Mrs. Gurney, of Earlham. I mention it, because 
 though then it made but a slight impression upon me, 
 the Gurney family many years after were so deeply 
 involved in the closest interests of my heart and 
 character. 
 
 After we had remained at Barr some considerable 
 time, I was seized with violent spasmodic asthma. 
 How long it lasted, I cannot now say, but the time 
 then appeared interminable, and my sufferings were 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 57 
 
 very great. I especially remember, once, when I was 
 very ill, that a lady, out of kindness, to amuse me, 
 read to me the story of Apollyon and Giant Despair 
 in " The Pilgrim's Progress : " the fearful visions 
 and terror it occasioned nearly cost me my life. It 
 was many days before I recovered from its effects. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the vigilant kindness of my 
 dear mother in this heavy visitation. She procured 
 me a large box of British shells, which at odd times, 
 as I could bear it, she taught me to name and clas- 
 sify, and she would amuse me by telling what was 
 known of their inhabitants : with accounts of the 
 pearl fisheries of Ceylon, the silk of the Pinna, and 
 the tentacula of the Polypus, and with other short 
 bits of incidental information did she beguile my 
 suffering hours. How all this class of knowledge 
 seems to me full of the fragrance of her kindness ! 
 
 I remember one day I was bitterly complaining, 
 and writhing under pain, when she took me on her 
 lap and said, " I will tell thee a story. There was 
 once a slave called JEsop. His master, who was a 
 Persian king, was very fond of him, and gave him 
 every day all he could wish for, so that iEsop was 
 obedient and loved his master, and thanked him 
 continually. A courtier to whom the king had 
 praised ^Esop for his obedience, answered, ' Well may 
 he love thee, O king ! for thou loadest him with all 
 he can desire, but try him with some painful thing, 
 
58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and then thou wilt see what his love is worth. 5 Now, 
 in the king's garden, there grew a nauseous and bitter 
 melon, the stench of which was such that few could 
 bear to approach it. The king told -ZEsop to go and cut 
 one of the melons and to eat every bit of it. ^Esop 
 accordingly cut the fruit, the largest he could find, 
 and ate it every bit. The wily courtier said to 
 ^Esop, l How can you bear to swallow such a nau- 
 seous fruit ? ' he answered, c My dear master has 
 done nothing but load me with benefits every day of 
 my life, and shall I not, for his sake, eat one bitter 
 fruit without complaint, or asking the reason why ? ' 
 My dear child," my mother continued, " God is our 
 kind King, who surrounds us with every sort of 
 benefit, and has done so ever since we were born. 
 Hast thou, like JEsoip, thanked Him every day for 
 His goodness ? And art thou not willing to submit 
 patiently to the first thing He has given thee which 
 is really bitter ? " 
 
 I never forgot the story. I will only add that the 
 distress of this asthma and the weakness it left upon 
 my organs of respiration laid, I think, at this time the 
 foundation of that timidity and nervous apprehen- 
 sion which has tried me so much through life, and 
 which my mother in vain attempted to counteract. 
 To prove my fears were groundless, she would often 
 send me in the dark to find something she might 
 want, and I remember rushing along the passages 
 
MARY ANNE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 59 
 
 and lobbies of Barr, almost expecting to see some 
 ghastly face peep out from behind one of the many 
 doors. Yet even this trouble wrought for my good, 
 since I found my only comfort and support under it 
 was to look to God, and to realise the sense of being 
 under His care ; so that my very fears seemed, by 
 His blessing, to lay a foundation for that confidence 
 in His mercy, and turning to Him as my refuge, 
 which I have found at times an unspeakable bene- 
 fit in the real calamities of life. 
 
 In the autumn of 1787 we went with my father 
 and mother to Tenby. The sight of the sea made a 
 deep impression on me, and there are a few other 
 objects in the journey which seem to stand out pro- 
 minently through the haze of distant years. I well 
 remember the carriage going round by Dudson to 
 take leave of my grandfather, and his giving us a 
 large basket of fruit, with which to refresh ourselves 
 on the road, for it was very hot weather. I next 
 remember Malvern, its venerable abbey and its ex- 
 pansive view; but I have been much struck, on seeing 
 the same view in after life, at the difference of im- 
 pression produced by the various degrees of intelli- 
 gence with which any object is looked at. Asa child 
 I felt the exhilaration of the light and free air, and 
 the vastness of the expanse of the party-coloured 
 landscape, but that was all. How different did it 
 appear to me when it became a living picture instinct 
 
60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 with memories of the past and with historic associa- 
 tion ! In addition to the pleasure occasioned by the 
 scene in early years, when the towers of Worcester, 
 Gloucester, and Evesham, the battle-fields of Tewkes- 
 bury and Worcester, and the agricultural and saintly 
 labours of St. Theocus now arose upon my view, 
 they told a continued tale, and suggested an unceas- 
 ino; flow of ideas and feelings. This little incident 
 has taught me a lesson, that in education it is not 
 only necessary to place new objects before the sight, 
 but to furnish the mind rightly to see them. 
 
 As we were slowly travelling up towards the 
 Wych, in the burning mid-day sun, I remember we 
 overtook a respectable poor woman in her market 
 hat and red cloak, carrying one child in her arms and 
 followed by another. She was laboriously toiling 
 up the hill, almost overcome with heat. My father 
 immediately got out of the carriage and took me with 
 him, saying, " How much better we can bear to walk 
 than this poor woman ! " and then he handed her and 
 her children into the places we had occupied. When 
 we reached the top of the hill we resumed our seats, 
 and my parents permitted me to give all the fruit 
 that was left to the poor woman and her children. 
 I shall never forget how grateful to me was this act 
 of kindness of my father, and during many painful 
 things in after life it rose to me with sweet and 
 healing memory. 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. Gl 
 
 Of the rest of the journey I recollect little, ex- 
 cepting that one evening at sunset, I rather think 
 near the beautiful woods of Lord Dynevor's Park at 
 Llandilo, at the moment when the glowing tints were 
 lighting up the dark trees, solemn and sweet sounds 
 borne on the air reached us : as they drew nearer, 
 there passed a simple funeral procession, preceded by 
 some wind instruments, with which voices sweetly 
 blended. The procession was habited in white, and 
 the coffin covered with a white pall, on which were 
 affixed, in large characters, a few Scripture texts. 
 I remember these amongst them : " Blessed are the 
 dead which die in the Lord." "Precious in the 
 sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." 
 
 My mother told me that this was a Moravian 
 funeral, and that the Moravians were persons who 
 love God and love each other as brothers and sisters ; 
 that they call dying " going home," and give thanks, 
 and sing praises, and rejoice with those who depart. 
 I was much impressed by the whole thing, though 
 little did I imagine that, in after years, God's mercy 
 would bring me into intimate relationship with those 
 very people. 
 
 \Ye arrived at Tenby when it was quite dark. 
 When I awoke next morning I could not distinguish 
 the sea from the sky, and the ships appeared sailing 
 amongst the clouds. Our house was on the North 
 Cliff. Great was my delight at this place. Every- 
 
62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 thing was new, mysterious, and striking to the 
 imagination, and all these impressions were developed 
 by my dear mother, who had an intense feeling of 
 the sublime, whether in its effulgent brightness, its 
 magnificent gloom, or its awful mysterious terror. 
 Then, again, everything around furnished new ma- 
 terials for knowledge and for scientific exploration, 
 all of which we entered into with the greatest zest 
 by my father's help. Well I remember how I used 
 to sit for hours to watch the alternations of the 
 ocean, sometimes as a placid lake, sometimes with 
 its regular thundering billows, or its crested waves 
 rushing on like horses with their manes flying in the 
 wind. Well I remember its dark caverns, its masses 
 of grey limestone rock, crowned by dismantled for- 
 tifications, and laden with its memories of Queen 
 Philippa of Hainault, and of Oliver Cromwell. 
 How I delighted in listening to my mother's his- 
 tories respecting them ! 
 
 Very different, but interesting in another manner, 
 were our pursuits with my father. He delighted to 
 lead us to search for every kind of shell, and to 
 narrate to us the habits of the occupants of each. 
 The Chiton and the Lepas, the Tyrian Murex, the 
 frail Sabella, or the darting Solen, afforded many an 
 interesting description ; and we were delighted when 
 the fishermen, for a trifling reward, brought some 
 of the refuse curiosities of the deep to exhibit to us. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENN1NCK. 69 
 
 It was a great pleasure to us to watch the Echinus 
 with its multitudinous legs, and the Cuttle-fish. My 
 father often made us happy by taking us with him 
 a considerable distance amongst the rocks, where 
 there was a little bay full of ledges and fragments 
 of rocks, half-covered with sea-weed and plashes of 
 salt water. This bay we more especially counted 
 our own. In these little plashes we placed all the 
 various Sea-anemones, and Murices, Patellae, and 
 other Mollusca which w r e collected, and we loved to 
 watch and tend them. My father would point out 
 to us the various appliances Avhich were given to the 
 different species. The Pholas, with its delicate thin 
 shell, yet boring through the rock ; the Limpet, with 
 its protecting shield ; the soft Medusa, with its 
 power of stinging ; and the Cuttle-fish, with its con- 
 trivance for concealment. All these things sank 
 deeply through my mind into my heart; and how 
 often, in after life, amidst temptations and diffi- 
 culties, amidst isolation and weakness, have I re- 
 curred to them w T ith a living and heart-cheering 
 sense, that if God so furnished these, His least and 
 most fragile creatures, against the enemies they had 
 to contend with, and thus enabled them to fulfil 
 their intended destiny, how much more w r ould He 
 provide His human creatures, once formed in His 
 image, for the various destinies to which His paternal 
 providence had called them. 
 
(54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 It is curious to me, after the long lapse of years, 
 to look back to the difference of the mental streams 
 I received from my father and my mother. My 
 mother's conversation spoke forth the fortitude, 
 brilliance, and beauty of her soul. It breathed self- 
 devotion, generosity, and sacrifices for her friends. 
 With the most entrancing eloquence, she told of cala- 
 mities bravely borne, self-sacrifices nobly achieved, 
 or sufferings in the midst of which the soul rejoiced 
 for those it rescued. My father, on the other hand, 
 in the recital of the same chances, loved to detail 
 all the ingenuity of intellectual resource by which 
 they might be mitigated or averted, the presence of 
 mind, or science, or ingenious evasion, by which 
 they might be turned aside. Thus, whilst my 
 mother awakened the heart by generous feeling, the 
 instructions of my father continually pointed out 
 the means of service either to others or oneself. 
 The one was great, the other useful. 
 
 Well I recollect three huge old goats, that lived 
 upon St. Catherine's rock and its ruined fortress, 
 and used to come down and answer our whistle and 
 eat from our hands. 
 
 One day it happened that our French governess, 
 my sisters, and I took a basket of refreshment with 
 us and far exceeded our usual walk ; we prolonged 
 it to some distant caverns which were enclosed in a 
 deep and solitary bay. I ran on before, and entered 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 65 
 
 one of them, which I suppose had been a resort for 
 bathers ; for the first thing which struck my sight was 
 the print of a man's naked foot in the sand. I was 
 at that time in the midst of reading the French 
 Robinson Crusoe, and was struck with this ominous 
 sight. I was too much afraid to tell my fears, but 
 I had a great dread lest some party of savages 
 should have been in the habit of landing in that 
 place, and as I knew of no other land but the little 
 island of Caldy I saw in the distance, a great awe 
 came over me, and henceforth it was my constant aim 
 to avoid that walk. 
 
 Another incident. I was walking one evening 
 with my dear mother on the top of the cliffs, when 
 we were much startled by the sudden appearance 
 from behind a ledge of rock, of a woman, tall and 
 gaunt, in a tattered dress of scarlet, and with two 
 pistols in a belt which she wore round her waist. 
 I remember my mother maintained the dignity and 
 calmness which never forsook her. The woman 
 waved her long arm as she perceived us, and address- 
 ing us, said, (I will not answer for the words,) " The 
 sea is beautiful, the sun is glorious, the earth is 
 glorious ; but man upon it is false, false, false." And 
 then she burst into a wild, hollow laugh, and strode 
 majestically away. Next day we had some friends 
 with us, and the incident of the previous evening was 
 spoken of. We learnt that no one knew who this 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
66 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 woman was, or whence she came ; that for years she 
 was accustomed to wander about Tenby and its 
 vicinity; that her habits were solitary, her desti- 
 tution apparently extreme ; that she never begged, 
 and her carriage and manner were far above her 
 present condition. This led to a desultory conver- 
 sation, which terminated in each party forming an 
 imaginary tale of what they supposed had been this 
 woman's former life and what the cause of her mental 
 aberration. Some attributed it to disappointed am- 
 bition, some to loss of fortune, some to loss of friends, 
 some to envy, or a desire of revenge, some to dis- 
 appointed affection. In short, everybody formed a 
 solution from the workings of his own heart, and 
 during the remainder of our stay at Tenby, whilst 
 not one of these persons had any additional informa- 
 tion respecting her, yet each seemed to have his 
 subsequent observations and feelings modified by 
 the picture which his own imagination, and that 
 alone, had suggested; just in the same manner as my 
 feelings towards the cavern and Caldy had been in- 
 fluenced by an imaginary impression. In after 
 years these two little incidents have furnished this 
 lesson to me. Ubi cor, ibi oculus : and as the eye so 
 follows the heart, how important is it, both that the 
 lens through which we view an object be un tinted 
 by any colouring which may impart to it a false 
 hue, and also that we should observe the correctness 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. G7 
 
 of every impression before we allow it entrance into 
 our mind, for after it has once lodged there it will 
 combine with all that follows and all which precedes 
 it, and if itself false will produce a false result, which 
 we shall never, perhaps, be able completely to dis- 
 entangle. 
 
 , \Yc are told that the temple at Jerusalem, besides 
 being a type of our Lord Himself, was also a type 
 of the Church, and consequently of each individual 
 heart which is the smallest form of a church. How 
 wisely was it appointed that an efficient company of 
 porters and doorkeepers should guard every gate of 
 access into the temple, that they should rigorously 
 examine every commodity of every sort that was 
 brought in, and that nothing should be allowed to 
 enter to which was not affixed the temple-mark ; for 
 as all admitted into that temple was dedicated to the 
 service of God, so should all be perfect and without 
 flaw or blemish. If we indeed have the privilege to 
 be numbered among the smaller forms of the Divine 
 temple, to us is the exhortation : " See that ye defile 
 not the temple of God." 
 
 I have now concluded the account of my earliest 
 childhood ; and as I have recalled it, how deeply 
 have I felt the goodness of God to me during its 
 course, and the evidence of His wisdom in those 
 whom He placed near me, as the channels of His 
 mercy ! How can I ever be sufficiently thankful for the 
 
68 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 noble example of my dear mother, for the kindly bene- 
 ficent influence of my grandfather, and Lizzie Forster, 
 and for the early testimony afforded me of the reality 
 of religion by the unfeigned holiness of my Aunt 
 Polly ! Long as it is since they departed from this 
 earth to the rest I am so nearly approaching, new 
 applications of the great truths I heard from them 
 still continually arise, and I often feel as if I were 
 yet but beginning to know how deeply I am indebted 
 to them. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIII3IMELPENNINCK. 6 9 
 
 PART II. 
 
 1787—1788. 
 
 a His thoughts were of the past, the early past, the hye-gone days of youth, 
 For the sunshin}' morning of life came to him in vivid light."' — Tupper. 
 
 " L'esprit humain est un vrai miroir, qui prend aisement toutes le3 
 couleurs qui se presentent a lui." St. Francis de Sales. 
 
 And now I come to the sorrowful time of my 
 mother's illness. Christmas Day of the year 1787 
 dawned ; an eventful day to me — one which in its 
 consequences has coloured the whole of my life, and 
 in its impressions must be remembered while life 
 lasts. 
 
 "Whilst I was dressing on that day, it was an- 
 nounced to me that my mother's illness had sud- 
 denly assumed an alarming character, and that my 
 father had taken her to consult a doctor, a long way 
 off; that the carriage had just driven from the door, 
 but that she had written a letter to me which was to 
 be delivered into my own hands. No time can ever 
 
 F 3 
 
70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 erase and no words can ever describe the suffering 
 of that moment ; I felt as one transfixed to the spot. 
 When I at length was able to open the letter, I 
 recognised at once her kindness ; — the folding the 
 sealing and the writing all exhibiting the admirable 
 order and beauty which uniformly characterised 
 everything she did. The purport of the letter was to 
 say, that she had been suddenly taken very ill, and 
 that she bade me farewell as expecting to see me no 
 more. She then exhorted me to be an obedient and 
 a dutiful child, and to do all that she had herself 
 taught me, and to remember that none could love 
 me so well as she did, nor, consequently, be so in- 
 terested in my welfare. More I do not remember. 
 1 recollect nothing clearly but the deep sense of 
 anguish with which I was overwhelmed. I remem- 
 ber c^oino; to the window, which was covered with that 
 crystallisation of hoar frost which but a few mo- 
 ments before appeared so beautiful to me ; the whole 
 ground was one white sheet of snow, with which the 
 ice of the lake was likewise covered ; deeply furrowed 
 below the windows, and far extending along the 
 windings of the road were the marks of the carriage 
 wheels which had just departed, — the only trace 
 left me of my mother ! 
 
 How cruel I felt the wrench of being called to my 
 lessons, which my distress made it impossible for me 
 to learn ! The wind gradually rose, and my heart sank 
 
MARY ANNE SCimiMELPENNIXCK. 71 
 
 within me, for I thought the marks of the carriage 
 wheels would soon be no longer visible. How did I 
 count the moments till I could once more go to the 
 window ! The snow beo;an a^ain to fall, and when 
 about noon the sun broke out, it was upon a land- 
 scape in which the trees were beautifully fledged 
 with frost and snow ; the cascade seen from the 
 windows was adorned with long and clear icicles, 
 and the whole expanse of the lawn and valley was a 
 sheet of unsullied snow. Of the time which imme- 
 diately followed, I have no distinct recollection, but 
 that it seemed a chaos of misery, and an eternal now 
 of despair ; for as a child I lived intensely in the 
 present as though it would never end. 
 
 Amongst the family left at home were Miss P — 
 and the French governess. Miss P — , of whom I 
 shall have occasion to speak hereafter, was the 
 daughter of a gardener at Enfield. She had been a 
 protegee of my great-aunt Priscilla, who took the 
 complete charge of her. At my aunt's death, which 
 happened, I believe, before I was two years old, the 
 charge of Miss P — devolved on my dear mother, 
 who intended at that time to place her out in some 
 occupation : to this end she was apprenticed to Nelly 
 and Hannah Marshall, two celebrated Friends' mil- 
 liners, in Lombard Street. There she remained 
 several years. Her character was remarkable for its 
 
 F 4 
 
72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tact and its power of accommodating itself to others, 
 with a high degree of phrenologic u Imitation" which 
 made her one of the best mimics I ever saw. It gave 
 her also quick perception, especially in illness, so that 
 her powers as a nurse could hardly be excelled. 
 She had the admirable art, so far as it can be at- 
 tained independently of religious influence, of deal- 
 ing with persons under sorrow or nervous depression. 
 How often have I observed that persons depressed 
 in spirits would cheer and brighten under her in- 
 fluence ! She often entered the room as if acci- 
 dentally, listened to the sufferer's sorrow, condoled 
 with it, even enhanced upon it ; then she would 
 suggest some slight alleviation for the moment, which 
 could be obtained without labour or occupying much 
 time ; then she turned perhaps to indifferent mat- 
 ters, in which the patient might feel self-compla- 
 cency in interesting himself, to oblige her : gradually 
 her conversation assumed a more lively tone, till at 
 length the patient's mind was entirely carried into 
 some other channel, and not unfrequently have I 
 seen a smiling sun burst forth from the thickest 
 cloud. Truly it was a gift for blessing. 
 
 But Miss P — was not one of nature's patricians, 
 though possessing many qualities which, under the 
 direction of religious principle, might have rendered 
 her a valuable character. 
 
 Her education had not been favourable. The 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 73 
 
 very profession of a Friends' milliner, involving no- 
 minal plainness while attaching real importance to 
 appearances, was no example of singleness of inten- 
 tion. The many customers whose dress was to be 
 adapted to various shades of Friends' principles, and 
 to many different grades of moral or religious strictness, 
 did not afford a school for a high moral standard. 
 The Society of Friends, at the period of which I 
 speak, was at its very lowest ebb ; with many, religion 
 was a mere bundle of strict outward observances 
 and peculiarities; with others, who lived in the 
 love of God, it was indeed a living, but mystic con- 
 secration ; but both these parties alike were igno- 
 rant of many of the leading principles of divine 
 truth. What could be expected from a young 
 person so unhappily trained ? or how could one look 
 for that clear principle, or strength of moral purpose, 
 or uprightness of walk, which can only emanate from 
 a union of both the internal and external teaching of 
 God ? And how different in every case ought to be 
 our judgment of persons, from that which the rule of 
 the Gospel obliges us to pronounce on particular ac- 
 tions! How He alone who knows its opportuni- 
 ties and temptations, can truly judge the heart ! 
 Blessed be God ! as His holiness and majesty so like- 
 wise is His mercy. 
 
 When smarting through the failures and errors of 
 others, instead of judging them, may we bear 
 
74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 in mind how many circumstances over which the 
 individual has no control are necessary to form a 
 perfect walk before men, and let us believe that 
 events have in their case been over-ruled by God, to 
 inflict upon us a discipline and teaching which He 
 saw we needed, and thus humbly take what has 
 pained us as from His hand, and listen to His voice 
 in teaching us through it. On the other hand, when 
 we have been ourselves misunderstood, should we not 
 consider how probable it is, that through ignorance 
 and error on our part, in many things, even more 
 than we know of, we have failed, and that those 
 who judged us erroneously could not know our 
 hearts, and could judge only by our outward 
 actions ? 
 
 From the time of my mother's illness Miss P — 
 was an inmate of my father's family. It was her 
 part to prepare tea and breakfast, to keep the 
 accounts, and to make purchases at Birmingham ; 
 and while we were children, she was expected to 
 make herself agreeable to our visitors, to walk with 
 them and show them the grounds, to give my mother's 
 daily orders to the housekeeper, to superintend the 
 stores, and when my mother was from home, she was 
 considered as having a certain amount of general 
 supervision. 
 
 It was thus that in my mother's long absence we 
 now fell under the rule of Miss P — and our French 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 7.5 
 
 governess. Oh ! what a change was this from the 
 unalterably firm but kind and wise government of 
 my mother ! whose voice was always sweet, clear 
 and equable, firm and deepening in solemnity like 
 the diapason of an organ, or bright and refreshing 
 with cheerfulness. For the twenty-eight years 
 I lived at home, I never in voice, look, or gesture, 
 saw in her the slightest expression of temper. This 
 I say, not as a mode of speaking, but as an actual 
 reality. Her orders were precise, definite, always 
 bearing on essential points, and wholly free from 
 worry or petty detail ; her reproofs were grave 
 and austere, yet mingled with sweetness, and 
 never bestowed but on known and wilful transgres- 
 sion. Prompt and instant obedience she enforced, 
 or rather it was always willingly given. She would 
 sometimes say to me : " Now thou hast been a good 
 little girl, and I will tell thee the reason for this or 
 that ; " or else perhaps she would say ; " When thou 
 art old enough, I will tell thee the reason, but thou 
 canst not understand it now." My mother never gave 
 a task which was not completely within our power of 
 achieving, and for which full time was not allowed; 
 but no failure was ever passed over. Yet the change 
 of system was nothing, compared with the grief I felt 
 respecting my mother's health; in vain did I ask 
 tidings of her, I received no answer, or was told to 
 mind my lesson. I could not learn, for my heart 
 
76 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 was full ; and then punishment succeeded punish- 
 ment. Daily as tea-time arrived, I looked with 
 anxiety to the post-bag, which was then brought in ; 
 but each day I looked in vain. Often I could not 
 eat my meat, and with the Psalmist I might have 
 said, " My tears have been my meat day and night." 
 How did I then enter into sympathy with one of the 
 stories I used to read in Berquin's w Ami des 
 Enfans," called " L'ecole Militaire ! " how my heart 
 yearned over Edouard de Bellecour, who day by day 
 could not eat his portion, because he knew not his 
 parents' fate ! But, worse than all, the Sunday arose 
 now no Sabbath to us. The instruction my dear 
 mother gave me on that day was the Sunday's only 
 religious observance which I remember at that time ; 
 I always looked to it as a period of unburdening 
 my conscience, of renewed peace and sustaining 
 rest ; it seemed to give me peace and power to beo'in 
 a fresh week. Now this was swept away. Time 
 seemed like one disheartening series of dreary 
 working days, without the smile of one cheering 
 Sabbath of rest and refreshment. 
 
 I write this, for many and acute are the sorrow's of 
 children, and well would it be if those who were 
 about them made it a point of duty to enter more 
 into their minds. How often would children then be 
 spared a galling sense of injustice, and how many 
 opportunities of rectifying both their misconceptions 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 77 
 
 and their evil feelings might be turned to lasting 
 good account ! In writing this, however, at the 
 distance of seventy years, it must be borne in mind 
 that no one can write his life but from the stores 
 with which his memory is furnished, and alas! how 
 much more is our memory filled with those tilings 
 which have tried us, or injuriously pressed upon us, 
 than with the recollections of the temptations, the 
 trials and the difficulties, under which they who 
 were the cause of our trials were themselves op- 
 pressed. Perfect as is now my recollection of this 
 time of bitter suffering, I have often since felt, 
 what I did not then perceive, how great must have 
 been the trial and perplexity of those inexperienced 
 young people, from sixteen to twenty-three or 
 twenty-four, suddenly left with the responsibility of 
 a large establishment, and the care of children, who 
 never before followed other rule than that of their 
 mother. 
 
 At length, towards the middle of February, the 
 post-bag brought glad tidings, and suddenly all the 
 house became the scene of unwonted bustle and ac- 
 tivity. Trunks, imperials, clothes and books, strewed 
 every room. Miss P — , with Mademoiselle, the 
 housekeeper, and the maids, were busied all day long 
 and the following night in packing, and we were told 
 that next day we were to go to Bath, where my 
 mother had been sent by Dr. Darwin for the use of 
 
78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the waters. The Bonne with the little twins went 
 to my grandfather's, at Dudson, where they remained 
 during our absence. The prospect of seeing my 
 mother seemed to me like life from the dead. She 
 was better, and I should again be with her ! We set 
 out very early next morning, but I recollect no par- 
 ticulars of the journey till Ave arrived for dinner at 
 the Corselawn inn, a single house on the Upton 
 road, by which my father always travelled instead of 
 by Tewkesbury, at which place his own mother some 
 } r ears before had died. I well remember the country 
 inn, and its gaudy sign of the " Dragon of Wantley." 
 We were in a sitting-room upstairs, waiting for 
 dinner, when the sound of horses' feet was heard. 
 We went to the window, and saw a travelling-car- 
 riage drive to the door, with four spirited horses and 
 out-riders. As it drew close, what was my delight 
 to recognise the Barr livery, and to see again old 
 Hector, my mother's noble and favourite horse, with 
 Xanthus, Balius and Podargus, whom I had so often 
 visited with my father, and which were the occasion 
 of his telling me many a tale of the Trojan war. 
 One of the out-riders was my mother's particular 
 servant ; the other was a young Catholic footman, a 
 convert of Mr. Berrington's ; his name was Edward 
 Grainger. I knew he had said that he every day 
 prayed for all the family, especially for my dear 
 mother since her illness ; and to see that he was there 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENXINCK. 79 
 
 seemed a ray of comfort to my heart. My mother 
 had overtaken us on her way to Bath ; and while the 
 horses were put to, she desired to see me. I was 
 taken down ; she held out her hand to me ; I burst 
 into tears, and could not say a word, but I looked 
 upon her again, and she said, " To-morrow we shall 
 meet." From that moment a full tide of joy took 
 possession of my heart ; all seemed restored to me, 
 and every step of the road I felt drawing nearer to 
 her till we reached the White Hart at Bath. 
 
 We were soon located at 12, South Parade, then 
 the most frequented part of the city. I rarely saw 
 my mother, for whom stillness and absolute freedom 
 from care were indispensable ; yet it was a delight to 
 me to feel myself under the same roof; and when one 
 morning I found a beautiful barrel-organ placed in 
 our school-room for me, with a little note in her 
 own handwriting, I cannot express the delight I felt, 
 to have this assurance that she thought of me, and 
 had chosen for me the thing of all others I most 
 delighted in. 
 
 Bath was a new world to me ; and great was the 
 astonishment and delight with which its various 
 objects filled me. The Pump Boom, with its statue 
 of Beau Nash, the waters sending up their columns of 
 steam, the band of music — a thing I had never heard 
 before, — and the vast ever-shifting throng of gaily 
 dressed company, was to me a scene of enchantment. 
 
80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 The beautiful green-house plants or artificial flowers 
 at all the doors of approach to the Pump Room, and 
 the silver balls to attract the flies, completely dazzled 
 my view. 
 
 It so happened that this year (1788) being the 
 centenary of the arrival of King William, not a lady 
 was to be seen without streaming orange-coloured 
 ribbons, or gentlemen without rosettes of the same 
 in their button-holes. Besides this, balloons were at 
 that time just come into vogue, and everybody wore 
 huge balloon bonnets with magnificent ostrich fea- 
 thers ; and what appeared to me indescribably beau- 
 tiful, were the ample muffs and long tippets, and 
 fur linings, of the silken Angora goats' hair. It is 
 remarkable that while in each individual person 
 ornament in dress appeared to me so contemptible, 
 yet this vast moving assemblage only struck me with 
 enchantment, like a bed of beautiful flowers ; the 
 whole scene became to me a thing — I thought not of 
 the persons composing it. I felt it was not like the 
 incongruity of an individual in a quiet circle adorned 
 amongst the unadorned ; but it was as a brilliant pic- 
 ture in which the whole tone of colouring was raised, 
 and glowing with rich and varied tints. The music, 
 too, I felt most heart-stirring ; and then the beauty 
 of the shops, which I was never tired of looking at ! 
 I could not conceive how it was possible to invent 
 all the wants which here were professed to be sup- 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. SI 
 
 plied. I particularly remember those in the Abbey 
 Yard. It was winter, so that we did not walk in 
 the country; but I was never tired, nor did my 
 amazement cease, in contemplating the brilliant 
 multitudes that continually formed a moving pano- 
 rama on the Parades, the Orange Grove, and the 
 Abbey Yard, then the fashionable resorts of Bath. 
 
 I particularly recollect on Sunday mornings the 
 Pump Room used to be full of company, but on that 
 day the doors were closed at a certain hour, and all 
 left it at once, and the Abbey Yard was filled by the 
 gay assembly. How often, at such times, as a child, 
 my heart felt the striking contrast between the gay 
 scene below, and the quiet venerable abbey, rising 
 in stillness in the midst and towering far above it ! 
 On these venerable towers were sculptured the mystic 
 ladder of the holy patriarch Jacob, and the angels 
 spreading their wings, gladly leaving earth to rise to 
 heaven ; and as the Gothic door of the abbey opened 
 its leaves to receive the entering crowd, how strongly 
 did I feel the contrast between the gaiety of the careless 
 throng who entered, and the stillness of the dead, and 
 of the sepulchral monuments around. Here I used 
 to walk and meditate ; and I well remember some 
 of those monuments on which I then loved to gaze, 
 and which I cannot even now see without emotion. 
 I recall especially that of Quin, " who set the table 
 in a roar," and who left no other remembrance 
 
 VOL. i. G 
 
82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 amongst men, but one saying worthy of Lucullus. 
 Another, too, I have often gazed upon, a mere 
 plain slab in the pavement, with the arms and name 
 of Hayes Sent Leger, Viscount Doneraile. My 
 mother had bought me a little book containing 
 an introduction to Heraldry and the Peerage ; and 
 she had from time to time taught me the various 
 tinctures and charges, and it much amused me to try 
 and decipher the arms I met with. It occurred 
 that I had frequently seen a coronetted carriage pass 
 by, the arms of which seemed to me particularly 
 beautiful, and were the same that I had observed on 
 the tomb. This monumental slab, of a date near a 
 century before, contrasted in my imagination with 
 the gay equipage, deeply struck me. My childish 
 thought, I remember, used to be, " Can it be his 
 son, whose carriage is gaily driving by, whilst his 
 father lies in this cold abbey ; or are his relations in 
 Ireland, without one thought of him ? But, oh ! it 
 cannot be the same ; how impossible would it be for 
 me to live if I lost my mother, and how without her 
 would the whole earth be as nothing ! " Ah ! how 
 little did I then think that I should live so many 
 years without the light of her countenance. How 
 impossible would it have been, but that the light of 
 His countenance who was both her Father and mine 
 rose in mercy upon me, and taught me that where 
 He is, there is always the true foundation for happi- 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. S3 
 
 ness, for peace, and even joy ; for in Him assured 
 faith unites memory with hope. 
 
 I was occasionally permitted at this time to sit 
 with my mother in the drawing-room, and amuse 
 myself with books of prints, or drive with her perhaps 
 to Lansdown or Claverton Down. She, meanwhile, 
 was far too unwell to take any part in her family ; 
 and though progressing, she needed the healthful 
 solace and support of a wise and kind friend. This 
 friend she found in Mrs. Priestley. Hers was the 
 only close friendship I ever knew my mother to 
 form. It began in the aid and help this excellent 
 lady afforded my mother in her illness ; nor has it 
 ever been my lot to witness any friendship more 
 powerful, more uninterrupted, and more influential. 
 I have often thought that what rendered Mrs. 
 Priestley so peculiarly suitable a friend to my mother 
 was the union in her character of strength with 
 a deep tenderness, seldom betrayed. It was the 
 engrafting of common life upon vast philosophic 
 principles, and a sweet hidden flow of sympathy, 
 bursting as it were from a stern impregnable rock. 
 Both friends started from a foundation in some mea- 
 sure akin, but each had built upon it precisely what 
 the other wanted. 
 
 I cannot express the fear I at first felt on Mr.-. 
 Priestley's arrival ; nor was it removed when, about 
 G 2 
 
84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 a week after, she made me a present of a little box 
 of dominoes, and fixing her piercing eyes upon me, 
 she said, " Now, little girl, here is a box of dominoes 
 for you ; and if they teach you to calculate half the 
 sums that many have foolishly lost upon the game, 
 you will indeed be a gainer ! " 
 
 When Mrs. Priestley had remained some time at 
 Bath, my mother gradually improved in health. 
 One day Mrs. Priestley came to me, with one of 
 those kind smiles which seemed like a breath of 
 spring in the midst of a January frost, and took me 
 into the drawing-room, where I often was allowed 
 to sit with her and my mother, amusing myself in 
 silence with a book or my dominoes. " My child," 
 said Mrs. Priestley, " you were afraid of me when 
 first I gave you those dominoes ; now you see my 
 reason for so doing. I wished you to have a pleasure 
 which, by keeping you quiet, would enable you to 
 be much with your dear mother, whom you so much 
 love ! This is a very little thing ; but let it teach 
 you, through life, rather to consider the end that 
 people have in what they do, than the honeyed 
 manner or words they may employ in what they say." 
 I never forgot the lesson. Mrs. Priestley applied 
 the dominoes exactly as the parents of Madame de 
 Genlis used the expedient of inviting her and her 
 little brother to play at the " Peres de la Trappe," 
 to ensure silence and undisturbed occupation. 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 85 
 
 Meantime, I very much enjoyed, during my silent 
 games, not only the feeling of being near my dear 
 mother, and watching her, but the conversation 
 between her and Mrs. Priestley. It much interested, 
 me at the time. Some of it, however, I did not 
 understand, and more of it I do not remember. 
 Some anecdotes, however, I recollect, because they 
 were connected with things that interested me, 
 especially those concerning the first Lady Shelburne, 
 who was Lady Sophia Carteret, the Lady Sense of 
 the " Magazin des Enfans." Mrs. Priestley spoke 
 with astonishment, as did every one else, of the 
 extraordinary talents of Mr. Petty, Lady Shelburne's 
 son, who died when he was about twelve years old. 
 I remember she told us that Lord Shelburne gave 
 her a ticket to attend the celebrated Duchess of 
 Kingston's trial ; but the rush for places, the tumult, 
 the trampling, the tearing of clothes, were attended 
 not only with great inconvenience but danger. On 
 her return, Lord Shelburne asked how she had 
 enjoyed it. " Indeed, my lord," she replied, " I 
 find the conduct of the upper so exactly like that of 
 the lower classes, that I was thankful I was born in 
 middle life." 
 
 Dr. Priestley was a man of much child-like simpli- 
 city. Mrs. Priestley related that, when he removed 
 from being pastor of the Leeds congregation to Calne, 
 
 G 3 
 
86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 on becoming librarian to Lord Shelburne, at Bowood, 
 she had packed everything for the removal with her 
 own hands. The doctor proposed to help her by 
 superintending the fastening and cording of theboxes. 
 What was her dismay, on arriving at Calne, and 
 opening them, to find that, under the cover of each 
 box were lodged specimens of minerals of all sorts 
 and a number of chemical mixtures ! The doctor 
 begged her not to distress herself if the clothes were 
 a little injured, for the minerals had come perfectly 
 well. 
 
 The day after they got to their destination, the 
 floor covered with boxes, and Mrs. Priestley herself 
 mounted on a high pair of steps, with her own hands 
 papering the room, their patron, Lord Shelburne, 
 was announced. Dr. Priestley said he was ver 
 sorry his lordship had come when the house was in 
 such a state, and his wife had not things in order to 
 receive him. Mrs. Priestley replied : " No, my dear ; 
 Lord Shelburne is a statesman ; and he knows that 
 people are best employed in doing their duty; he 
 will not esteem us the less for our occupation." 
 
 I will close these anecdotes by one of a different 
 description. At a distance of sixty or more years, 
 I cannot vouch for the accuracy of my memory in 
 its subordinate details ; but of its substantial correct- 
 ness I am sure, having frequently heard it from 
 Dr. and Mrs. Priestley, and many years after from 
 
MAKY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. S7 
 
 the medical man, the late Dr. Allsop, of Calne, who 
 was concerned in it, and whom I met in a very 
 different circle of society. While Dr. Priestley 
 occupied the post of librarian to Lord Shelburne, 
 one day, Mr. Petty, the precocious and gifted youth 
 whom I have mentioned, sent for Dr. Priestley (Lord 
 Shelburne being then absent, I think, in London). 
 When the doctor entered, Mr. Petty told him he 
 had passed a very restless night, and had been 
 much disturbed by uncomfortable dreams, which he 
 wished to relate to Dr. Priestley, hoping that, by 
 so doing, the painful impression would pass away. 
 He then said he dreamed he had been very unwell, 
 when suddenly the whole house was in preparation 
 for a journey; he was too ill to sit up, but was 
 carried lying down into the carriage; his surprise 
 was extreme in seeing carriage after carriage in an 
 almost interminable procession. He was alone, and 
 could not speak ; he could only gaze in astonishment. 
 The procession at last wound slowly off. After 
 pursuing the road for many hours towards London, 
 it at last appeared to stop at the door of a church. 
 It was the church at High Wycombe, which is the 
 burial-place of the Shelburne family. It seemed, in 
 Mr. Petty's dream, that he entered, or rather was 
 carried into, the church : he looked back ; he saw 
 the procession which followed him was in black, and 
 that the carriage from which he had been taken 
 
 G 4 
 
S3 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 bore the semblance of a hearse. Here the dream 
 ended, and he awoke. Dr. Priestley told him that 
 his dream was the result of a feverish cold, and that 
 the impression would soon pass off. Nevertheless, 
 he thought it best to send for the family medical 
 attendant. The next day Mr. Petty was much 
 better ; on the third day he was completely con- 
 valescent, so that the doctor permitted him to leave 
 his room ; but, as it was in January, and illness was 
 prevalent, he desired him on no account to leave the 
 house, and, Avith that precaution, took his leave. 
 Late the next afternoon the medical man was re- 
 turning from his other patients; his road lay by 
 the gates of Bowood, and, as Lord Shelburne was 
 away, he thought he might as well call to see Mr. 
 Petty, and enforce his directions. What was his 
 surprise, when he had passed the lodge, to see the 
 youth himself, without his hat, playfully running to 
 meet him ! The doctor was much astonished, as it 
 was bitterly cold, and the ground covered with 
 snow. He rode towards Mr. Petty to rebuke him 
 for his imprudence, when suddenly he disappeared ; 
 whither, he knew not — but he seemed instantaneously 
 to vanish. The doctor thought it very extraordinary, 
 but that probably the youth had not wished to be 
 found transgressing orders, and he rode on to the 
 house ; there he learnt that Mr. Petty had just 
 expired. 
 
MAKY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 89 
 
 I give this anecdote as I heard it ; but I know that, 
 some time after, it was the occasion of Dr. Priestley's 
 exchano-ino; some letters with the celebrated John 
 Henderson, the friend of Hannah More, who was 
 well known, amidst his great talents, to have been 
 a believer in supernatural appearances; and Dr. 
 Priestley was anxious to investigate the grounds of 
 that belief, with one whose intellect placed him 
 above the suspicion of superstitious credulity. 
 
 As my mother grew better, she frequently took me 
 with her to the Pump Room, and she sometimes told 
 me anecdotes of those she had seen there when a 
 child. On one occasion, when the room was thronged 
 with company, — and at that time the visitors of Bath 
 were equally distinguished for rank and fashion, — a 
 simple, humble woman, dressed in the severest garb 
 of the Society of Friends, walked into the midst of 
 the assembly, and began an address to them on the 
 vanity and follies of the world, and the insufficiency 
 of dogmatic without spiritual religion. The company 
 seemed taken by surprise, and their attention was 
 arrested for a few moments : as the speaker pro- 
 ceeded, and spoke more and more against the cus- 
 toms of the world, signs of disapprobation appeared. 
 Amongst those present was one lady with a stern 
 yet high-toned expression of countenance ; her air 
 was distinguished ; she sat erect, and listened intently 
 to the speaker. The impatience of the hearers soon 
 
90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 became unrestrained ; as the Quaker spoke of giving 
 up the world and its pleasures, hisses, groans, beating 
 of sticks, and cries of " Down, down," burst from 
 every quarter. Then the lady I have described 
 arose with dignity, and slowly passing through the 
 crowd, where a passage was involuntarily opened to 
 her, she went up to the speaker, and thanked her, in 
 her own name and in that of all present, for the 
 faithfulness with which she had borne testimony to 
 the truth. The lady added, " I am not of your per- 
 suasion, nor has it been my belief that our sex are 
 generally deputed to be public teachers ; but God 
 who gives the rule can make the exception, and He 
 has indeed put it in the hearts of all His children to 
 honour and venerate fidelity to His commission. 
 Again I gratefully thank you." Side by side with 
 the Quaker she walked to the door of the Pump 
 Room, and then resumed her seat. This lady was the 
 celebrated Countess of Huntingdon. 
 
 My mother had visited Bath in her childhood, at 
 the time when Lord Chesterfield was staying there, 
 just before the close of his life : he was very fond of 
 her, when he met her as a little girl, and used fre- 
 quently to choose her as his companion. The weary 
 courtier seemed refreshed by exchanging the hollow 
 intercourse of the heartless world for the freshness 
 of a child's society. My mother said nothing could 
 exceed his kindness to her ; it was exquisite in tact, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 91 
 
 in delicacy, and in polish. s< But," she said to Mrs. 
 Priestley, "it was Canynges' chain, and not Aladdin's 
 necklace." I did not understand this at the time ; 
 but years after, I read how Canynges, the celebrated 
 Bristol merchant, had presented Edward IV. with a 
 rich and unequalled gold chain, which was the admi- 
 ration of all England ; but in a few years, on being 
 hard rubbed, the copper peeped through ; it was 
 only strongly gilt. The necklace of Aladdin, on the 
 contrary, was composed of sterling gold, itself seven 
 times purified in the furnace, and receiving its 
 polish and brilliancy from the perfect purity and 
 ductility of its precious material. 
 
 Another anecdote of my mother's childhood. — Her 
 grandfather then occupied a large house in the city of 
 London, in which he had received, on the days of their 
 visits to the Lord Mayor, the three successive sove- 
 reigns — George I., George II., and George III. It 
 was remarkable that a family of strict Friends should 
 have received at their house three English sovereigns. 
 On the visit of George III., my mother was a child 
 of five years old. The king was much delighted by 
 her beauty, took her on his knee, and asked her how 
 she liked him. My mother answered, " I love the 
 king ; but I should love him better without his fine 
 clothes." This greatly amused him. Lady Egremont 
 was at that time one of the ladies in waiting, and she 
 now renewed her acquaintance with my mother at 
 
92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Bath. Amidst all the rank and fashion of the people 
 who then frequented the Pump Room, my mother's 
 appearance was ever singled out as eminently strik- 
 ing ; few entered that room without asking who she 
 was. Her figure and deportment were majestic and 
 yet simple ; in the expression of her countenance 
 were both strength and delicacy: her complexion was 
 exquisitely beautiful, forming a charming adornment 
 to the strength of her chiselled features, and a colour- 
 ing perfectly suited to her French grey satin pelisse 
 with mother-of-pearl buttons, the lining of which, as 
 well as her ample muff, was of Angora goats' fur. 
 
 Lady Egremont's daughter was a beautiful and 
 delightful young person, maid of honour to the 
 Queen. Her husband, Count Bruhl, was a man of 
 much talent and accomplishment; he particularly 
 excelled as a chess-player. Our acquaintance with 
 Lady Egremont was the means of inspiring us all 
 with a great love of chess, excepting myself, for I 
 had no talent for the game. Yet I love chess, as 
 feeling indebted to it for proving such a recreation to 
 my dear mother at that time. 
 
 Another acquaintance my mother formed at Bath 
 was that of Dr. Hastings, Archdeacon of Dublin. 
 His conversation was exceedingly agreeable and in- 
 structive. He presented my mother with Gregorius 
 Leti's Life of Pope Sixtus V., which opened a new 
 vista of entertainment and information to us. Dr. 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 93 
 
 Hastings was zealously attached to the English 
 Church, and gave my dear mother many books on 
 the subject. I remember, towards the close of Mrs. 
 Priestley's visit, Miss Berrington came to us. I have 
 heard that my mother was once walking in the Pump 
 Room between these ladies, when Dr. Hastings came 
 up, and spoke to her of a book explanatory of the 
 Liturgy of the English Church, which he had given 
 her. My mother thanked him for the book, but said she 
 feared he would think very badly of her, when she 
 declared how entirely she differed from his view of 
 the Liturgy. He bowed, and politely answered, 
 " Well, my dear madam, I do indeed wish that you 
 belonged to the Church of England ; however, I will 
 not make myself uneasy, as I should were you an 
 
 Unitarian "• My mother, interrupting him, said, 
 
 " Dr. Hastings, I have omitted introducing to you 
 my friend Mrs. Priestley ; "- — — " or," Dr. Hastings 
 then resumed, " what is so much worse, a Roman 
 Catholic." My mother replied : " This lady is Miss 
 Berrington. I am afraid you will think very badly 
 of my condition." Dr. Hastings courteously an- 
 swered : " Nay, madam, you are in just the position 
 which the Church of England occupies — the true 
 medium between those who hold too much and those 
 who hold too little." 
 
 A few days afterwards Mrs. Priestley left us. I 
 have always been thankful to have seen as a child a 
 
94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 person of such unswerving integrity of purpose, 
 such inflexible truth, and such a deep though stern 
 sense of duty. 
 
 It is now sixty-four years since that visit of Mrs. 
 Priestley, and at the end of a long life, I wish 
 not only to express my deep interest in reviewing the 
 various characters with which I have come in con- 
 tact, but to record my uniform observation that the 
 fruit borne by each has always been in exact corre- 
 spondence, not with the theological opinions, but 
 with the living seeds of conviction sown in each 
 spirit. I remember a gentleman who is a great ar- 
 borist, once saying to me, " Not only does each tree, 
 if living, produce its own fruit, — the deadly Upas its 
 poison, the bread-fruit tree its sustenance — but each 
 tree likewise, even of the species that are good for 
 food, produces its fruit in more or less strength, in 
 more or less abundance, according to the soundness 
 of every fibre of the root ; if a fibre be injured or 
 wanting, there w T ill be a correspondent want in the 
 main branches, and in the ramifications and the beauty 
 of foliage which spring from it." Just so has been 
 my observation with respect to the children of men, 
 compared in Scripture to trees. Some of them, who 
 are unfounded in any Divine truth, may be likened 
 to the poisonous tree of Java ; and it is not less true of 
 trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, which 
 exhibit an infinite variety, not only in the abundance 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 95 
 
 of the fruit brought forth, but in their degree of perfec- 
 tion — the amount and the character of the fruitful- 
 ness in each case bearing an exact correspondence to 
 the completeness with which Christian truth has been 
 absorbed by the living principle of each. Our Uni- 
 tarian friend appeared to possess a deep and real 
 sense of the omnipresence of God, of His being a 
 bountiful Benefactor, a sovereign Judge, and a Re- 
 compenser of good and evil ; hence,'lier view of duty 
 was clear, inflexible, and uncompromising ; but she 
 had no knowledge of the deep fall of man, of his 
 alienation from God, the infirmity of his will, or the 
 darkness of his understanding : hence she w T alked in 
 rigid inflexibility, with little commiseration for human 
 weakness, and for that moral disease of which she 
 was herself unconscious. She knew not that the 
 best of the sons of men could stand only on the 
 ground of mercy and an all-sufficient Atonement, and 
 therefore she expected from each the payment of 
 those moral debts which she believed that she her- 
 self was bound to pay. She saw not His precious 
 blood as shed for her and for all ; and thus while for 
 herself she pursued a rule of large beneficence, she 
 could not feel the deep bond of sympathy that 
 unites one poor fallen man to another labouring 
 under the same disease ; nor could her heart yearn 
 over sinners as loved with the same love with which 
 she herself was loved by the God-Man, the utterance 
 
96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of whose heart it was, to lay down His life for her. 
 Taking natural reason as an all-sufficient guide, she 
 substituted for faith, free (and oh ! how intermina- 
 ble) inquiry ! How lamentable it is, w T hen, in the 
 darkness of our own minds, we are content with the 
 candle of human intellect which throws such dispro- 
 portionate light on objects near at hand, whilst it 
 leaves unreached those more distant, and thus casts 
 false lights and false shadows upon all. Rather, let 
 us open the shutters of the dark heart, bolted and 
 barred though they be, to let in the light of the 
 glorious sun, which, whilst it shows the near objects 
 distinctly, and reveals the wmole landscape in its 
 exact truth of lineaments and colouring, yet pours its 
 glory of light upon the distant everlasting hills. 
 
 Miss Berrington was a widely different person 
 from Mrs. Priestley. A Catholic lady, educated in 
 the habits of society, yet conforming to its customs 
 and fashions with the devout spirit of one educated 
 in- a convent, she frequently joined the parties of 
 her connections then at Bath ; and though she dressed 
 with a splendour so contrary to our habits, she never 
 gave the impression of being other than a kindly and 
 simple person ; so true it is that the heart gives its 
 colouring to all the exterior life and habits, and that 
 they unmistakeably bear its impress. I remember, one 
 evening, she was going to a ball at the house of her 
 relation, Sir Thomas Fleetwood. Dress was at that 
 
MARY ANNE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 97 
 
 time a very lengthy and onerous affair. Ladies wore 
 on their heads a superstructure of curls, white and 
 brown powder, &c, which it took the hair-dresser 
 two hours at least to complete, and poor Miss Ber- 
 rington was condemned to dress hours before the 
 appointed time, wearing, as ladies did then, an enor- 
 mously projeeting handkerchief called a " Bouffante," 
 and upon that a huge nosegay of artificial flowers, so 
 that she could neither take her dinner, nor even lift 
 a cup of tea to her mouth before she went. While 
 she was waiting in durance, she asked me to read to 
 her. I ran to fetch one of my books, and told her I 
 thought she would like Dr. Franklin's little story 
 of the man who paid too dearly for his whistle ! 
 
 I remember two old friends of my dear mother's 
 who came from Hertfordshire, the Baron and 
 Baroness Dimsdale. Their conversation was ex- 
 ceedingly amusing to me, and they had a fund of in- 
 teresting anecdotes respecting Russian manners and 
 Catherine the Great, whom the Baron visited in 
 Russia at her request, to inoculate for the small-pox. 
 This practice had only just been introduced into 
 England by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, on her 
 return from Constantinople. 
 
 Catherine II., whose philosophic mind was intent 
 on every improvement, and whose noble spirit deter- 
 mined her first to submit to the risk herself, before 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 she recommended it to her subjects, sent for Dr. 
 Dimsdale from England, where alone it had as yet 
 been introduced. On his arrival, Catherine had an 
 interview with him, fixing that he should come at 
 midnight and inoculate her, unknown to all but two 
 or three confidential friends: if she recovered, she 
 proposed to remunerate him handsomely ; if not, she 
 explained all the arrangements she had made for 
 conveying him safely out of the empire, unknown to 
 the public, before her death should be announced. 
 He spoke with deep feeling of her noble nature ; he 
 had many portraits of her, which he was fond of 
 showing, and of marking the dignity of her counte- 
 nance, which, as he was wont to say, was as of a ma- 
 jestic lion, a grand and noble royalty, with deep traces 
 of the impress of an animal nature. Many were the 
 descriptions he gave of her habits and manners, from 
 the faithful exactness with which she imitated the 
 crowing of a cock, or the purring and spitting and 
 hissing of a cat, to the imperial dignity with which, 
 as an autocrat, she ruled the mighty Kussias and all 
 her dependencies. He spoke of her wit, and delight- 
 ful kindness, and amenity and charm in domestic 
 society ; of her wisdom, intellectual stores, and varied 
 powers, displayed in reunions of the first literary and 
 scientific names ; and of the admirable tact with 
 which she was equally able to serve her friends or 
 to baffle their rivalry. When the Princess Dashkoff, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMM ELPENNINCK. 99 
 
 whose masculine and enterprising spirit had helped 
 in the conspiracy which placed Catherine on the 
 throne, asked as a reward to be made Colonel of the 
 most influential regiment of Horse Guards, Catherine, 
 ■well knowing the turbulent spirit she had to deal 
 with, adroitly replied, " That were far too vulgar a 
 reward for so elevated a genius," and, instead of it, 
 made her President of the Royal Philosophical Ill- 
 s' tfi ition, an honour which, as Catherine observed, 
 " no ^ L ._ woman had ever received, and no other 
 could ever deserve." 
 
 Baron Dimsdale always spoke w T ith enthusiasm 
 when he spoke of Catherine ; so that one day when 
 he was describing the magnificent colossal statue, 
 either then erected, or in contemplation of erection, 
 by Catherine, to the memory of Peter the Great, he 
 declared that he hoped Russia would insist on adding 
 one word to the inscription, which would then read 
 thus, " Dat dicat dedicatque Petro Magno Catherina 
 Maxima." 
 
 Some time after Mrs. Priestley left us, my mother 
 again became much more unwell. She was unable 
 to join the family ; I was no longer allowed to be 
 her companion, and deep sorrow again w r eighed me 
 to the dust. I w T ell remember the closed shutters of 
 the passages (to keep out sound), the absolute 
 silence, excepting our whispered conversations in the 
 
 II 2 
 
100 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF 
 
 school-room, the dreary length of unexplained les- 
 sons, my father's hasty and sudden visits, his coun- 
 tenance of care, the dread and sinking of heart 
 when called to say lessons which had never been 
 taught me, and the earnest desire I had to read his 
 countenance, in order to gather from it tidings of 
 my mother. 
 
 About this time an aunt of my mother's who 
 mostly spent part of each spring at Bath, arrived 
 with her husband and family at their house in the 
 Crescent, and my dear mother's illness increasing, it 
 was arranged, that my father should take her to con- 
 sult Dr. Darwin, and then go on to Birmingham, 
 leaving the rest of the family at our lodgings at Bath, 
 under the surveillance of my uncle and aunt, Sir 
 William and Lady Watson. Sad indeed were my 
 feelings, when I found the house empty, and my dear 
 mother gone. It was nearly a year since her reli- 
 gious instruction had of necessity ceased, and not 
 one word of heavenly hope or of duty had supplied its 
 place, so that now I knew not whither to look for 
 comfort. 
 
 In vain I watched day after day for tidings of my 
 mother. Sometimes a horrible fear came over me 
 that she was no longer living ; and it was with little 
 less than anguish that I listened to the Bath Abbey 
 clock, as it struck the well-known hour at which I 
 used to go and sit with her, or heard its chimes 
 
MARY ANNE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 101 
 
 which day by clay pealed forth the Easter hymn, 
 the carillon which she had explained to me. Some- 
 times I heard the bell toll, and then a sudden fear 
 seized me lest it should be for her funeral ; and I 
 could not bear to quit the house, fearing I might 
 meet it. What intense suffering do some children 
 go through unsuspected by others ! 
 
 Meanwhile, the winter was wearing away ; the 
 spring began to peep forth, the flowers to return, and 
 the beautiful country at that time surrounding Bath 
 (which I think did not then occupy half its present 
 site) appeared lovely from every street. The view 
 from the South Parade was beautiful ; I think there 
 was scarcely a house in view except Prior Park ; 
 the whole landscape was composed of woods, gardens, 
 and meadows, with the river winding through it. 
 
 It was then our habit, every morning before 
 breakfast, to cross the Ferry at the end of the South 
 Parade, and to walk about a mile along the banks of 
 the Avon, to a bath in a village, where we regularly 
 bathed. 
 
 One day as I was stepping into the boat, I saw 
 something move in the water : it was a poor little 
 dog, tied in a basket half full of stones, and thrown 
 into the river to be drowned. Between bribes and 
 entreaties I succeeded in getting him taken out ; he 
 proved to be a miserable little black cur, and half 
 starved. The moment I cut the string which bound 
 
 H 3 
 
102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 him, the poor little animal licked my hand, and I 
 directly felt, " Here is a creature that will love me," 
 and I obtained leave to take him home. As I found 
 him in a basket, I was reminded of Pharaoh's daugh- 
 ter, and wondered whether she had felt so unhappy 
 at the want of somebody to love, when she saw the 
 basket of bulrushes in the Nile ; and I called my 
 little dog " Moses." Great was the solace my little 
 Moses was to me. 
 
 Surely trifles like this are instances, though little 
 in themselves, of the sympathy of our Lord in all 
 the afflictions which befall the children of men, and, 
 taken from His hand, are proofs of that tender care 
 over His creatures which notices every sparrow that 
 falls and every hair that drops, and also feels for 
 every sorrow, however minute, which wrings the 
 human heart. If the beneficence of the ever-blessed 
 God is known by His mighty benefactions, His love 
 is surely brought home to the heart by the minute- 
 ness of His care. Those who have experienced the 
 very little circumstances which can raise the heart 
 or cheer the sunken spirit in an hour of need, should 
 surely learn that nothing is little by which they can 
 show kindness to others : it is not the intrinsic value 
 of the gift, but the love from which it emanates, 
 which constitutes its living power ; and nothing is too 
 small to convey the spirit of love from a heart over- 
 flowing: with the love of God and man. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 103 
 
 God is the rest of the heart ; and the feeling that 
 God remembers in love is the true and potent cor- 
 dial for every sorrow. The pleasure I had in little 
 Moses made me understand the warm affection of 
 the heartless Due de Lauzun for the spider which 
 cheered his solitude in the Bastille ; and it has been a 
 key to me, during the course of a long life, to unlock 
 the secret spring of many affections and friendships 
 which otherwise would have appeared incongruous. 
 The truth is, that the bestowal of the heart's affec- 
 tions, like the price paid for merchandise, is regulated 
 not merely by the actual value of the object, but by 
 the urgency of the need of him who pays the price. 
 The delicate pea-flower, that is trailing unsupported 
 in the dust, gladly clasps the stay presented to it, 
 even though it be a lacerating thorn. Thus the 
 warm and generous Heloise was devoted to the cold 
 and selfish Abelard ; and we shall always find that 
 both our own affections and those of others throw 
 light, not so much on the character of those who are 
 beloved, as upon the character and the needs of the 
 hearts of those who love. 
 
 My aunt, Lady Watson, mitigated our desolate 
 situation by her kind visits. She not unfrequently 
 took us drives with her, and as the spring advanced 
 they became more frequent. I well remember going 
 to Prior Park to visit the quarries, and the exhila- 
 rating influence of the air of Claverton and Lansdown. 
 
 H 4 
 
104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 After a time which then appeared very long, my 
 aunt one day came and told me that my dear mother 
 was slowly getting better, that I had every reason 
 to be happy about her, and that henceforth we 
 should spend every afternoon at her house. It 
 would be hard to express the gush of delight with 
 which I heard this intelligence concerning my 
 mother. It seemed like a beam of light which en- 
 abled me freely to enjoy all other things. Our 
 walks were now delightful. Mademoiselle, though 
 wholly unqualified by her youth and Avant of disci- 
 pline, for the post of trust in which my dear mother's 
 illness had unexpectedly placed her, was yet not 
 devoid of a taste for science and literature. It was 
 often truly delightful to walk in the country towards 
 Prior Park, then rich in botanical treasures. I shall 
 never forget how beautiful were the Crescent fields — 
 for as yet they had not been changed into a park, — 
 the thick dewy herbage and varied flowers, the 
 crescents rising one above another in the distance, 
 and the long line of company walking in each, rich in 
 varied colouring and movement. 
 
 Frequently we walked in the Parades, and the 
 Pump Room ; and now began a new habit which had 
 great influence on my after life. I was feeling the 
 hunger of occupation both for head and heart, the 
 proper supply of which would have been domestic 
 affection carried out into duty and good habits ; but 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 105 
 
 my spirit, my heart, my intellect — dark, empty, and 
 untrained — were thrown back upon themselves. We 
 soon became familiar with the countenances of very 
 many whose names we never knew. I used to ob- 
 serve the different expressions that came over them, 
 in the varying circumstances under which we met ; 
 and the remembrance of these childish observations 
 afterwards brought home to me the thought that the 
 opinions men form of each other are generally more 
 than half the reflection of their own hearts, so that a 
 sagacious observer may, in hearing others spoken of, 
 often form a more correct judgment of the cha- 
 racter of the person who is speaking, and have a 
 much clearer light thrown on it than on that of the 
 absent spoken of. 
 
 Our afternoons and evenings were always spent at 
 Sir William Watson's. And now I shall say some- 
 thing of a family and of relations to whom we were 
 indebted for so much kindness, and whose intimacy 
 was so influential on our characters. 
 
 My aunt Watson was sister to my uncle David 
 Barclay. Like my mother, she possessed all the 
 Barclay energy, activity, generosity, and benevo- 
 lence, rare beauty and much wit, so that she was 
 universally admired ; like her, she was the sun of her 
 circle ; but she greatly differed from my mother in 
 one respect — my aunt had not her quiet strength and 
 repose added to energy. My aunt Watson had 
 
106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 been three tirae3 married; first to Mr. Edmund 
 Gurney, by whom she had two daughters, Christiana 
 and Priscilla, w T ho were both most pleasing and much 
 admired. My cousin Priscilla, w T ho was very beauti- 
 ful, was at that time absent from home. My aunt's 
 second husband w r as Mr. Freame. By him she had 
 one son, Joseph, at that time a youth of eighteen, 
 and heir to a considerable fortune : he was always 
 of a very feeble constitution, both in body and mind, 
 though extremely amiable and gentlemanly. His 
 mother showed great discrimination in the manner 
 in which she educated him, attempting to teach 
 him only those things which he could readily 
 learn, and with which he could quietly and innocently 
 amuse himself; and hence, in after life, he never pro- 
 duced a jarring or incongruous effect by conversing 
 ill on subjects beyond his power, but he rather 
 seemed like a person in whom a state of amiable 
 childhood had been prolonged. Sir William Watson, 
 my aunt's last husband, was son to Sir William 
 Watson, physician to George III. : he was a man of 
 large fortune, distinguished for his scientific know- 
 ledge, and for his great wit and conversational 
 powers. Their house was considered above all 
 others in attraction, for as yet Earlham was not 
 known. It w T as the rendezvous equally of persons 
 of benevolence, talent, wit, and fashion. All sought 
 to gain admittance into a circle which presented a 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 107 
 
 rare combination of worldliness on a substratum of 
 real kindness and benevolence. Was not the bound- 
 less benevolence of my aunt Lady Watson which 
 blessed so many, an inheritance she possessed from 
 her unworldly ancestors, the Barclays of Urie, like 
 the green and beautiful leaves still put forth by a 
 noble tree when its vitality seems gone ? 
 
 My aunt had very bad health : she always spent 
 the morning in her room. Towards evening she 
 became animated, was the soul of her company, and 
 the delight and admiration of all. She was in the 
 frequent habit of driving out in the evening. Our 
 cortege generally consisted of the family coach, and 
 two little Yarmouth carts each drawn by a pony. 
 The coach contained ourselves, and some one of my 
 aunt's family, and sundry gifts for the poor. One 
 of the Yarmouth carts was devoted to the use of my 
 uncle Watson ; it carried his mineralogical hammers, 
 his botanical boxes and microscopes, &c. We often 
 excited no small wonder as we passed; my uncle 
 getting out to botanise, while my aunt entered the 
 cottages of the poor, or recurred to him for advice, 
 while we with Mademoiselle were amusing ourselves 
 in wandering about, and joining by turns the one party 
 or the other. 
 
 I will give an instance of my aunt's extraordinary 
 benevolence. One evening, in London — at a play or 
 concert, I forget which — my uncle and aunt, through 
 
108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 some trivial circumstance, entered into a conversa- 
 tion with a gentleman and lady with whom they 
 were unacquainted. The gentleman seemed a man 
 of sense, and a great invalid. When the entertain- 
 ment was over, it rained violently, and there was no 
 coach to be had, at which the lady seemed sorely dis- 
 tressed, on account of the illness of her husband, and 
 his nervous agitation. Lady Watson offered to set 
 them down ; but finding they lodged at a remote 
 distance, and that the hour was late, she invited them 
 to return home with her and sleep at her house. On 
 the following morning, my aunt found that this poor 
 gentleman was not only very ill, but in great 
 trouble of mind, and in perplexed circumstances. 
 She immediately asked them to remain with her a 
 little while, to see if means could not be found of 
 helping them. She placed the gentleman under Sir 
 William Watson's medical care, and employed proper 
 legal advisers for the establishment of his affairs. In 
 short, after a residence of a whole year at her house, 
 the gentleman went forth an altered man : he after- 
 wards became a deeply religious character, and did I 
 feel at liberty to mention his name, it would be found 
 one highly honoured in connexion with many en- 
 lightened plans of benevolence. Another time, my 
 aunt, who had formed the most complete collection 
 of British shells then extant, and in stormy weather 
 often visited the sea-shore for the purpose of adding 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 109 
 
 to it, was out one clay, when she saw from the top of 
 the cliff a human figure on a ledge of rock sur- 
 rounded with water. Not only was the tide rapidly 
 advancing, but there was a tempest, and the crested 
 waves were rushing in furiously. It soon appeared 
 as though it were impossible for the man to extricate 
 himself, or to leave his insular position. My aunt 
 tried to get a boat to go to him, but the boatmen 
 were unwilling to encounter the storm : seeing not a 
 moment was to be lost, she offered a high reward to 
 any who would venture : at last a boat set out ; Lady 
 Watson watched its fate with breathless eagerness ; it 
 reached the man just as his strength was exhausted, 
 and brought him safely back ; but how great was her 
 astonishment when she found she had rescued her own 
 husband, Sir William Watson ! 
 
 Another member of my aunt's family, I must not 
 forget ; this was Mr. Leathes, a young clergyman, 
 and fellow of Jesus College, Cambridge. He was 
 Mr. Freame's tutor ; not that he taught him any- 
 thing, but he walked and rode with him, and was his 
 daily and most valuable companion. We were now 
 left, as I have said, under the charge of my aunt 
 Watson. Her desire to make us happy, and her 
 kindness could not be exceeded. Nevertheless, 
 the influence we were now under was as different 
 from the strict, yet wise and sustaining rule, in 
 which we had been trained by my mother, as from 
 
110 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the caprice and occasional tyranny of our young, 
 and no doubt tried governesses, Our natural in- 
 clinations were now permitted suddenly to expand at 
 full liberty, and I felt like the genius in the 
 " Arabian Nights," when suddenly emancipated from 
 the box in which he had been confined under the 
 depths of the ocean. Nevertheless, the atmosphere 
 now around us, though so full of enjoyment, was yet 
 not without its drawbacks. My mother had always 
 avoided everything which she believed might give 
 her children a taste for luxury ; and the exhibition of 
 wealth or position in society she trampled under 
 foot, and her very countenance often reminded me 
 of the lines in " Gondebert," 
 
 " Great above pride, her looks like empire shone ! " 
 
 My aunt Watson, on the contrary, kind, bene- 
 volent, and active, enjoyed all these things — partly, 
 perhaps, from cheerful spirits, partly in amusement 
 at the follies of others. She often said, " We live 
 amongst fools ; we have to make use of them, to act 
 upon them for their good and our own ; and if they 
 are only to be caught with gold, why we must 
 gild our nets, if we mean to catch them." For 
 everything, or for every custom in my mother's 
 house, she always gave to her children's i( Why ? " 
 a " Because," emanating from a clear principle ; in 
 the case of my aunt, a " Because " always merged in 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. Ill 
 
 some effect to be produced. In the one case, we 
 heard of motives springing from some lofty moral 
 sentiment; in the other, of consequences terminating 
 in some outward effect ; the one elevated, the other 
 amused. It was not long before I felt the gradually 
 deteriorating effect of the descent of the mental eye 
 from seeking, however imperfectly, the sun in the 
 heaven above, to fix itself on the glittering gewgaws 
 of the earth beneath. Such was the influence under 
 which I now found myself. 
 
 In the beginning of June we left Bath, and 
 accompanied our aunt to Dawlish, where she had 
 just built, on a model of her own, a very pretty 
 little villa called Seagrove Lodge. We had our 
 abode in a small lodging a few hundred yards off. 
 Dawlish was not then what it is now. It was no 
 watering-place, but a small rural village, pastoral 
 indeed, but without other pretension either to beauty 
 or to picturesque effect. It consisted of a straggling 
 line of small houses, mostly thatched, and many 
 whitewashed cottages, interspersed with little gardens, 
 extending irregularly from the sides of a shallow 
 brook, that wound through a plashy green full of 
 rushes and the yellow horned poppy, till, crossing 
 through sands, it reached the sea. This little stream 
 was crossed by a crazy wooden foot-bridge, where 
 the children of the village often delighted to angle, 
 while we were occupied, in the marshy sward be- 
 
112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 neath, in gathering the water-cresses growing in the 
 brook in great abundance, and daily laying up for 
 ourselves rebukes for wet shoes and dirtied frocks. 
 
 The mornings at Dawlish we generally spent at 
 our lessons, or in amusing ourselves out of doors. 
 At about dinner-time we went to Seagrove, and 
 passed the rest of the day in my uncle and aunt's 
 family. And here let me make an observation 
 which, at this distance of time, is very striking to 
 me. I enjoyed at Dawlish a complete liberty, which 
 I never had known under my dear mother's rule. 
 I had amusement without end, for everything which 
 surrounded me was new ; yet not one of the things I 
 did, nor one of the things I saw, has left any distinct 
 record upon my mind. My intellectual powers were 
 not called forth ; hence, though I saw a great variety 
 of things new to me, they rather passed before me 
 like the dreamy and baseless visions of a phantas- 
 magoria, than were held and grappled with as sub- 
 stantial realities, the knowledge of which was to 
 be acquired and treasured up for use. The amuse- 
 ments in which we now wasted hour after hour 
 were not like those we had at home, — healthful ex- 
 ercises either of the bodily or mental powers. They 
 now present to my recollection a mere chaos, with- 
 out any chain of association linking them to the 
 mind or memory ; whilst many of the least incidents 
 of a' walk, a flower, or a casual conversation with 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPEXXIXCK. 113 
 
 my dear mother or with my father, have fixed in- 
 formation in my mind which I shall never forget. 
 
 On reviewing the occasional periods of my life 
 which were unoccupied by any definite or earnest 
 intellectual pursuit, I have been reminded of a re- 
 markable account of two children found in Cham- 
 paigne, who appeared about fourteen or sixteen 
 years of age, one of whom was reclaimed and edu- 
 cated. We are told, that it was only after he ac- 
 quired the use of language that he was able to retain 
 ideas in his memory, and that the whole of his 
 savage life presented a blank he was unable to fill 
 up, though he retained with perfect distinctness 
 every idea afterwards received, and stored up in 
 words, Now I have often thought, that as language 
 imparts fixity to ideas, by clothing them in words, 
 so the habits of discrimination, of attention, of in- 
 telligent arrangement, or vivid emotion, in like man- 
 ner stereotype the light of knowledge or the glow 
 of feeling, and thus furnish Memory with her most 
 valuable treasures. 
 
 In the vacant state, both of mind and heart, in 
 which I was at Dawlish, the full liberty I had was 
 almost a bewildering maze, and the various new 
 objects around me presented a sort of dazzling mist, 
 through which I at first discerned no object dis- 
 tinctly : meanwhile, the absence of my mother, 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 though mitigated by my aunt's assurance of her 
 welfare, yet lay like a weight on my heart, and in 
 the midst of superficial amusement, I had the sad 
 feeling of real isolation, loneliness, and want of 
 interest. Gradually, however, the sunny mist which 
 surrounded me, became more transparent, and ob- 
 jects emerged more distinctly to view. The bright- 
 ness, salient wit, and benevolent energy of my aunt 
 interested my imagination, and long unused to any 
 expression of kindness, I deeply welcomed that of 
 my cousin Christiana Gurney, and there was a gen- 
 tleness, a sentiment, and sweetness in it, I cannot 
 say how grateful, to a heart sad and in sorrow, as 
 mine really was. Though I never spoke of that 
 sorrow, the healing influence of her manner was 
 deeply felt by me. But I had not a discerning 
 spirit ; I saw not that my heart sought but its own 
 satisfaction in those it loved. I had besides no ex- 
 perience to discriminate the attractive from the sub- 
 stantial good, and I gave myself up to an excessive 
 love and admiration of my cousin, which I have 
 since thought bordered upon idolatry. Though 
 others might look on only with approval, yet this 
 my childish fancy made me experience, even then, 
 how " evil and bitter a thing it is to forsake the 
 Lord " for idols, though of gold; and how little any 
 heart can prosper that worships — that is, that con- 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 115 
 
 secrates itself to — any object besides Him. The ex- 
 perience of my own long life, and of that of all those 
 whom I have intimately known, has, on the other 
 hand, abundantly shown me that there can be no 
 seeking of God, however ignorant, however dark, 
 that is pursued with integrity, which does not ef- 
 fectually lead upward from grace to grace, from 
 grace to glory ; for, of a truth, " God is, and is a 
 rewarder of those who diligently seek Him." 
 
 It may perhaps appear needless to dwell upon this 
 childish admiration for my cousin Christiana; but 
 so it was, that while I seemed to go on well in my 
 own sight, and in that of others at Dawlish, I was, 
 unknowingly to myself, and very much through the 
 unwatchfulness this occasioned, entering upon a state 
 which, in combination with succeeding circumstances, 
 proved the darkest in my life, which laid up for me 
 years of misery and wandering from the right road, 
 and from which the long-suffering, forbearance, and 
 unmerited mercy of God, acting both upon my own 
 soul and upon a remarkable tissue of providential 
 events, could alone have delivered me. 
 
 My cousin Christiana Gurney's character stands 
 distinguished in my memory from all I have ever 
 known ; not so much by force of material, or vivid- 
 ness of power, as by the excellent adaptation of all her 
 powers — both of feeling, intelligence, and taste — to 
 
 i 2 
 
116 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 each other, and their exquisite temper and combina- 
 tion. Their influence on others was not so striking 
 as attaching, tenacious, and pervading. It was not 
 the brightness of the sparkling brook, or the wide 
 expanse of light on the still lake, but the pene- 
 trating dew, or the deep course of the silent river. 
 
 She had a fine organization of form, colour, and 
 proportion ; and possessed those intellectual endow- 
 ments which lead to the cultivation of the fine arts, 
 and which, joined to her excellent sense, distin- 
 guished her conversation, not, indeed, for sparkling 
 genius, but for finished taste, and rendered her man- 
 ners exquisitely captivating. She had not, perhaps, 
 so many heart friendships as chosen companionships, 
 and in the choice of these she was fastidious and full 
 of nice appreciation. She seemed to possess an in- 
 tuitive feeling both of character and position, which 
 bestowed on her manners that exact proportion 
 which the Due de St. Simon so highly lauds in 
 Fenelon ; and I will add that her early association 
 with Friends imparted to her a degree of collected- 
 ness and self-possession which bestowed a certain 
 passive dignity on manners which, without it, might 
 have stopped short at being sweet and engaging. 
 
 Both my cousin, and I who looked upon her, fell 
 at this time into the same delusion; — we had no 
 distinct knowledge of what constituted the real good 
 of ourselves or others, and confounded the mere 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 117 
 
 desire of pleasing them with the promotion of their 
 true happiness. She was then twenty-six ; and I 
 must here state, in anticipation, that her life was 
 prolonged to the advanced age of eighty. Much 
 discipline did she undergo from the love of her Hea- 
 venly Father ; much preparation of soil from the 
 hands of the Good Husbandman, and increasingly 
 rich from year to year was the golden harvest. She 
 was blessing and blest, after having outlived all her 
 near relations, whose support and solace she proved. 
 She was as a mother to the bereft and the orphan, 
 and when she died, she not only departed univer- 
 sally respected by the city in which she lived, and 
 honoured by the large circle to which she belonged, 
 but many were the orphans to whom her bounty and 
 sympathy had given far more than an ordinary home, 
 who assembled round her coffin and gave thanks for 
 her redeemed spirit, whilst they mourned her with 
 the mourning of the heart. Such was my cousin 
 Christiana Gurney. 
 
 I can hardly describe how different was the tone 
 of language at my home and at my aunt Watson's. 
 My mother's praise was, " It is noble," " It does not 
 seem, but is;" — my father's, "It is useful;" — my 
 venerable friend Lizzie Forster's, " It is suitable ; " 
 — my grandfather's, "It is wise." On the other 
 hand, my aunt Watson's word of praise was, " It is 
 brilliant;" — my cousin Christiana's, "It is capti- 
 
 I 3 
 
113 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 vating, engaging, refined." All the expressions of 
 praise at home were based on a substance ; all those 
 at my aunt's on fashion. The one had respect to 
 integrity of material ; the other mainly to its skill in 
 manufacture. The conversation at Barr and Dud- 
 son was constantly on subjects of intellect, or sub- 
 jects of utility ; on the discrimination of right and 
 wrong : it was always based on principle of some 
 sort ; but at my aunt Watson's, it often, indeed, 
 involved objects of benevolence, but turned chiefly 
 on manners or sentiment, on novels, on admirers, and 
 distresses arising? from those entanglements of senti- 
 ment or etiquette which Harriette Byron and 
 Evelina so delighted in. It seemed to me a new 
 world. I felt like the countryman who, after viewing 
 the solid orbs, the earth, the sun, and the moon, was 
 in the last astonishment at beholding a philosopher 
 like Sir Isaac Newton amusing himself, as he 
 thought, with blowing empty soap-bubbles which, 
 whilst they reflected brilliant light, had yet no sub- 
 stance. 
 
 My dear mother's instructions had deeply im- 
 pressed me with a sense of duty to God, and of 
 accountability to Him, as also of His omnipresence 
 and His love. This I truly and deeply felt. She 
 had also taught me, that the true object of life was 
 to aim at being perfect, even as, or because, He is 
 perfect; but there her instructions left me. My 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 119 
 
 dearest mother, excellent and high-minded as she 
 was, had not lived with those who had the slightest 
 tincture of what we now term the doctrines of the 
 Gospel. She believed that the field of free inquiry- 
 was open to all ; and that so long as people were 
 sincere, they were acceptable to God. She had 
 never been thrown in common life ; she seemed to 
 live in a charmed atmosphere, where every one paid 
 her glad homage as to a superior being ; and, in 
 truth, she had never experienced anything of the 
 rubs and collisions, the tug of war, in the battle- 
 field of life. 
 
 Now this being the case, as images of that which 
 was great and noble in thought, in action, and in 
 principle were indigenous in her, so she believed 
 they were necessarily indigenous in others ; and she 
 did not know by experience the wide difference 
 between feeding the heart and mind with generous 
 thoughts and impulses, and bringing them to bear 
 amidst temptation and the collision of adverse cir- 
 cumstances. But how the fallen creature man needs 
 the interior light of God to strengthen his soul, and 
 the promises of God to inspire his hope, in every 
 step of his pilgrimage ! 
 
 And how important is the teaching of all the great 
 points of spiritual truth. Many of the greatest 
 practical mistakes arise from working a question 
 without the whole of the data; and I may truly say 
 
 I 4 
 
120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that, in my own case, endless perplexities of mind and 
 conscience, when I really wished to do well, were 
 certainly riveted upon me, if not originated, by the 
 drawing-out of particular truths without the antago- 
 nistic principles by which our Lord limits and regu- 
 lates them. I was like a man perpetually raising his 
 principal rafter, as perpetually to let it fall, and 
 that because he is ignorant that it cannot stand 
 unless met by the antagonistic rafter from the oppo- 
 site side. The strength of religious truth, like that 
 of the arch, depends on the locking of the central 
 keystone, in which both the opposite sections meet. 
 This, I think, is very important to dwell upon ; for 
 nothing, surely, so perplexed my youthful conscience, 
 and so entangled many of the early years of my life, 
 as the fallacies into which I was led, by the exclu- 
 sive building on some one isolated principle, and by 
 the practical error hence resulting, which, in its turn, 
 induced doubt of the truth of the principle itself. ' 
 
 The years of doubt, of misery, of darkness, which 
 I underwent, through the new influences I received 
 about this time, acting upon one so imperfectly esta- 
 blished in the truth, make me earnestly wish to warn 
 other young persons not to discard that which they 
 have long known to be true, even if the practical re- 
 sult seem to lead to error ; but to make sure that they 
 possess the whole of that catholic truth which as it is 
 universal, so likewise it is indispensable. I will enter 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 121 
 
 into particulars. I believed that God was infinitely 
 good. I thought that the more I pleased others, the 
 more I resembled Him who is love, and fulfilled His 
 will. I thought that all depended on lovingness and 
 kindness ; and, in endeavouring to cherish these, I 
 very much slackened in seeking after truth. My dear 
 mother had always especially insisted upon truth for 
 its own sake ; but I now began to doubt if there 
 w T ere any such thing. I felt it the part of love never 
 to thwart those I was with, and considered that 
 chiming in with them, both in acting and speaking, 
 was a necessary part of giving them pleasure. 
 
 Thus Truth appeared to me as a harsh inflexible 
 tyrant, whom it w r as necessary to cast overboard in 
 order to preserve Love ; for I constantly repeated to 
 myself, that he who loves God above all, and his 
 neighbour as himself, fulfils all the law and the 
 prophets. 
 
 I was by nature timid; I had from my cradle 
 miserable health ; I was full of sensitiveness, and very 
 nervous ; and no doubt the great difficulty and dislike 
 I had in contending with others, proved an under- 
 lying temptation to avoid contention with them, even 
 at the sacrifice of principle ; nevertheless, my dear 
 mother's great and noble character produced a deep 
 effect both upon my heart and imagination. I 
 honoured the greatness I myself had not, and I 
 gloried in her noble truth whilst I often quailed 
 
122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 before the force of her character. I always shrank 
 from the contemplation of a mean and unlovely 
 picture of my own heart ; and though I never much 
 cared for the opinion of others, in foolish pride 
 esteeming myself too highly and them too little, I 
 did value my own good opinion, worthless and igno- 
 rant as I was, and deceitful was the heart which 
 gave judgment in its own cause. " The heart is 
 deceitful above all things and desperately wicked, who 
 can know it ? " Blessed art thou, O Lord ! for ever 
 and ever ! Blessed is Thy promise, that Thou wilt 
 search out Jerusalem with candles ! Blessed art 
 Thou ! that coming to Thy light we shall see light. 
 
 Such was the deep and underlying state of my 
 spirit, during part of my time at Dawlish. I do not 
 recollect having ever done any thing intentionally 
 to give pain to others, and it was ever a very sen- 
 sible pain to myself to see them suffer ; but, on the 
 other hand, I constantly used to defend myself or 
 others with a shield, instead of taking the spear. It 
 is the grace of God alone which has taught me, 
 that being all members one of another, we owe that 
 truth to one another which I in my ignorance con- 
 sidered as a possession in my own option to give or 
 to withhold. 
 
 Another evil present with me at this time was, 
 that believing man born with a perfect nature, I 
 thought it was from voluntary choice, when any 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENXINCK. 123 
 
 departed from the highest moral standard : it was 
 absolute excellence therefore that I expected, and I 
 always judged of any aberration without mercy or 
 allowance, believing that persons must have departed 
 from their nature to fall into it. Very different was 
 my measure as respected myself. 
 
 I must again observe the deep misery and per- 
 plexity which I passed through, and in which I was 
 entangled for many years, simply from ignorance of 
 the main dogmas of Catholic truth ; yet never can I 
 cease to be most thankful to my mother, who did 
 deeply impress my mind with some of those truths 
 which lie at its fountain head. The Holiness of 
 God, that He is truth, that He is love, that He 
 is omnipotent, that His eyelids try the children of 
 men, that He is a rewarder of them who diligently 
 seek Him — these things she deeply engraved upon 
 my mind ; and though, in my total ignorance, other 
 scriptural declarations and other experiences seemed 
 for a time sorely to battle against them, and against 
 each other, yet were their traces ineffacable ; they 
 were beacons, though storms of evil passions and 
 surges of adverse circumstances raged around them. 
 
 How then can I ever be thankful enough to Thee, 
 O Lord ! who didst lead me as by a desert, " to 
 humble me, to prove me, and to show me what was 
 in my heart," and Who didst at last teach me to look 
 to Thee as my Saviour and Deliverer ? that Saviour 
 
124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 besides which there is none other! Thus have I, 
 through the pilgrimage of my life, been led, like the 
 children of Israel, partly by the dark cloud, partly 
 by the pillar of fire. Such were the complicated 
 motives which formed the many-stranded cord which 
 drew me from my former simple standard of seeking 
 what is right, to substitute another which, if it did 
 not at once subvert the first, yet stood beside it like 
 unto it, confounding my moral sense between that 
 which was the will of God and that which would 
 please men ; between that which was good and that 
 which was agreeable ; between the sterling substance 
 and the elegance of its form. 
 
 There was another cause for the deterioration of 
 which I have spoken. A mingled chaos of literature 
 abounded at Seagrove, from valuable scientific 
 works and the best classical authors, to large collec- 
 tions of French memoirs, plays, and novels. All 
 those of Fielding and Smollett, and various others 
 of the same class, desecrated the library shelves : 
 they were open to all, they were put into the 
 hands of all. I did not, that I remember, read 
 many of these books, though their evil influence I 
 can never forget; and I think with horror of this 
 pestilential literature, and of its deleterious effect 
 both on myself and on those under whose care I was 
 placed. And oh ! how principles of evil (like those 
 of good) may fall heedlessly into the mind at the 
 
MABY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNIXCK. 12.1 
 
 time, but perhaps years after bring forth their bale- 
 ful harvest. I would not have it imagined that Sir 
 William Watson's library was by any means more 
 exceptionable than other large libraries at that time ; 
 but I believe that at that period libraries in private 
 houses were widely different from what they gene- 
 rally are now. The great increase of literary taste 
 amongst women has wrought a wonderful change, 
 not only in collections of books, but in their composi- 
 tion. Books were then written only for men ; now 
 they are written so that women can participate in 
 them : and no man would think of forming a library 
 in his house, without a thought that its volumes 
 must be the companions of his wife and daughters in 
 many a lonely hour, when their influence must sink 
 into the heart, and tend to modify the taste and 
 character. Thus, in literature, as in other things, 
 and especially in domestic life, has the mercy of God 
 bestowed on woman the especial and distinguishing 
 blessing of upholding the moral and religious influ- 
 ence, that spirit of truth and love by which man can 
 alone be redeemed from the fall she brought upon him. 
 How great an obligation do we owe to Sir Walter 
 Scott for raising the tone of light literature, and in- 
 fusing into it, not only much instruction and infor- 
 mation, but noble and elevated sentiments, and a tone 
 of feeling honourable, manly, highly moral, and to a 
 certain decree Christian ! None but those a^ed as 
 
126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 myself, and who recollect the past condition of things, 
 can appreciate the full debt we owe him. 
 
 Such then was my life at Dawlish ; wasted, except 
 so far as health was concerned, in wandering about 
 by the sea, the streams, the woods, and the breezy 
 common, without once tasting of the stores of know- 
 ledge with which all these things overflowed. Liberty 
 and amusement abounded more and more ; but as 
 amusement and liberty increased, unhappiness and 
 the weight of a conscience ill at ease increased like- 
 wise. I had felt sorely miserable at Bath, during 
 my mother's illness, but it was unhappiness without 
 the sting of conscience ; but now I seemed to have 
 neither conscience nor standard of right left. How 
 often I felt a dull and heavy conviction, which lay as 
 a weight upon my heart, that I was forgetting God : 
 that I was not even seeking to do right ; and how did 
 it come like a dagger, the feeling of the deep pain 
 my mother would have felt, could she have looked 
 into my heart, and seen how it went on. Yet I did 
 not know what was right, whom to take as my guide, 
 or whither to turn for help. I felt as enveloped in a 
 dark fog ; truly, I thought " no man cared for my 
 soul," and I did not even care for it myself. In 
 that hour of darkness and distress, when my earthly 
 parents were far away, my Heavenly Father's eyes 
 beheld me in deep compassion, and He held forth 
 His hand to rescue ; but not till I had learnt by 
 
MART ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 127 
 
 experience how different a tiling is the bitterest 
 sorrow with Him, from that which stings the heart 
 in the midst of brightness and enjoyment without 
 Him ; — and thus it fell out. 
 
 One most dismal Sunday, in which we were 
 cooped up in our poor lodgings, the weather not 
 permitting our usual resort to Seagrove, as we were 
 all sitting together, listening to the driving wind and 
 pelting rain, which still continued after a long and 
 tremendous storm of thunder and lightning, we were 
 unexpectedly roused by the sight of a post-chaise, 
 such as were then furnished at inns on all roads, 
 laden with luggage and bespattered with mud. It 
 stopped at our abode, the carriage door opened, and 
 we recognised the faces of two of the housemaids 
 whom we left at Barr eight months before, and also 
 the bright and good-humoured countenance of Mrs. 
 TTaring, the worthy schoolmistress of the little 
 school for poor girls, which my dear mother had 
 established. 
 
 Mrs. Waring, humble as she was in station, and 
 perhaps in intelligence, was yet a very original 
 character. Her dress and her person seem to rise 
 before my view : her little mob-cap, scrupulously 
 quilled and edged with lace, was tied under her 
 chin with a pink bow ; she wore a silk handkerchief 
 shawl, after the manner of Friends, and a flowered 
 chintz gown, with an apron of linen, which, in 
 
128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 whiteness, rivalled her cap. Never shall I forget 
 the bright, kind, good Mrs. Waring ! She was a 
 thorough and devoted member of that old-fashioned 
 Church of England school which was rather occu- 
 pied in living the truth than in denning it. By 
 this her whole aspect was modelled. Her naturally 
 lively, loving, humble temper was chastened by a 
 peace and serenity which ever made her spirit seem 
 free, even through all the active kindnesses her 
 hands were busy in performing. Her excessive love 
 of children, animals, and of her fellow-creatures 
 generally, and her taste for cheerful humour, were 
 never suffered to interfere with order, law, or dis- 
 cipline ; but then, discipline was administered as if 
 her heart yearned over the culprit, and as if she 
 suffered more in enforcing the penalty than the 
 other in suffering it. 
 
 She came in on that day, in the midst of the dread- 
 ful tempest, bright, cheerful, and placid, delighted 
 to see us, as we were to see her ; and when asked 
 about her journey, and its having prevented her 
 attending her favourite church, and the preacher in 
 whom her whole soul seemed concentrated, she re- 
 spectfully replied, " No ; I had a very pleasant 
 journey, for I came in the way of duty ; and I know 
 my Heavenly Father would not have sent me from 
 His house, and turned me out to travel, on a day 
 like this, unless He had had a blessing in store for 
 
MARY ANNE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 129 
 
 me ; besides, I knew that the heart of the whole 
 Church was lifted up for poor travellers by sea and 
 land; and I knew that God Himself, who always 
 answers His children's cry, was with us, and watch- 
 ing over us." Never shall I forget these words; 
 they came to me as a sunbeam bursting through a 
 thick cloud; my eyes filled with tears; eight months 
 had elapsed since I had heard the name of God 
 mentioned with love and reverence. No one could 
 describe what those words were to me ; they were as 
 a refreshing shower on a parched ground, — like dew 
 on a desert, — where every blade of vegetation had 
 perished, but which was ready to germinate and 
 put forth buds; they were like the first soft breath of 
 spring which shakes off the snow, which loosens the 
 frost-bound soil, and bids the snowdrop and the 
 primrose again burst forth. Since the heavy Christ- 
 mas Day on which my dear mother was first taken 
 ill, I had indeed had moments of intense joy; both 
 in meeting her at the Corselawn Inn, and again 
 when I was with her at Bath ; but that feeling was 
 still essentially different in its nature from the hap- 
 piness it now was once more to have the reality of 
 God's loving presence brought home to me. In an 
 instant my heart seemed lightened with the feeling 
 that the name of the Lord is a strong fortress, into 
 which those who enter shall be safe. 
 
 No sooner did I look upon Mrs. Waring's coun- 
 
 VOL. I. *K 
 
130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tenance, than I felt its renovating and supporting 
 influence. Glad was I when, as a treat, they allowed 
 us that first evening to have her to take tea with 
 us in our school-room ; and as we were cheerfully- 
 seated around, she unfolded the joyful tidings that 
 my dear mother might be expected in about ten 
 days, and that she was sent, with two of the maids, 
 to find a suitable house, and get it prepared for 
 her reception. This was indeed a joy ; it seemed 
 as if almost too much happiness had come at 
 once. 
 
 Before Mrs. Waring arrived, how often had I felt 
 that the whole morning had been wasted, as if sus- 
 pended on the short afternoon's pleasure at Seagrove ; 
 yet when I returned in the evening, what had my an- 
 ticipated pleasure produced but emptiness ! A thou- 
 sand disappointments occurred. Sometimes I hardly 
 saw my cousin Christiana, sometimes other young 
 people were more with her; then I felt sorely stricken. 
 At other times I had her entirely to myself, and all 
 seemed to prosper ; yet when I returned home, I felt 
 the dreary emptiness of the whole. I had no satis- 
 faction of conscience, for I had only been seeking 
 my own pleasure, and I felt the sort of deadness and 
 exhaustion which I have often experienced, and seen 
 in others, after reading novels, or whenever the 
 sympathies are excited without producing the living 
 fruit to which, in His Divine economy, God has 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 131 
 
 appointed them. How truly does my heart and 
 soul assent to Miss Hawkins' definition, that novels, 
 and all that stimulates unproductive sensibilities, 
 may be counted as the gin-palaces of the mind. 
 After good Mrs. Waring's arrival, I was surprised 
 to observe how the sight of her sitting at her work 
 with busy hands, bright eyes, and cheerful yet placid 
 face, seemed at once to gladden and restore my 
 heart. She used no honeyed words, she had no 
 polished manner, but her every word and look were 
 full of genuine kindness; and though she made no 
 effort to attract others to her, yet her whole 
 heart seemed to overflow in her lovingness towards 
 them. 
 
 When at Seagrove, I was like a fly which, en- 
 tangled in the pot of honey the allurements of which 
 he cannot resist, yet feels his feet clogged, so that 
 he can no longer walk his way ; his wings entangled, 
 that he can no longer soar ; his spiracles oppressed, 
 that he can no longer breathe the fresh air : when 
 under Mrs. Waring's influence, I felt, on the con- 
 trary, restored to life and liberty. 
 
 One afternoon as we were walking on the Warren, 
 (a high cliff overhanging the sea, from which the 
 Exeter road turns to Dawlish,) what was my delight 
 to see our well-known horses and carriage with my 
 dear father and mother, followed by an open carriage 
 in which sat a lady whom we always called "cousin 
 
 K 2 
 
132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Sally," who was on a long visit to my mother, and 
 by her side a youth with long brown hair thrown 
 back over his shoulders, without his hat, playing on 
 the flute, and a beautiful little goat standing before 
 him, with its fore-feet on his knees. 
 
 On arriving at home, I once again met my 
 mother, and found that the youth was William 
 Priestley, Mrs. Priestley's son, who had brought the 
 little goat as a present to me. He and cousin 
 Sally took up their abode in our house, whilst 
 my father and mother went to that prepared for 
 them. 
 
 I must now say a few words of cousin Sally. 
 In the first place, she was no cousin at all; there 
 was, I believe, some distant connection by marriage. 
 Her parents had been unfortunate in their worldly 
 concerns ; but to great natural delicacy and refine- 
 ment, as well as benevolence, and knowledge of 
 household economics, she united a kindness which 
 made cousin Sally generally beloved as a visitor. 
 She was also much valued in the families of her 
 connections, with whom she was in the habit of 
 spending months together, more even to their bene- 
 fit than to hers ; and in all these families, though 
 she did not retain much of the garb or manner of 
 Friends, she was recognised under the title of 
 16 cousin." 
 
 William Priestley was a clever youth, full of 
 
MARY AXXE SCIIIMMELPEXNINCK. 133 
 
 drollery and acuteness ; he was then studying in the 
 Dissenters' academy at Daventry. The next morn- 
 ing he failed not to amuse us by various anecdotes 
 of cousin Sally, for the embellishment of which, I 
 doubt not, we were indebted not only to his memory 
 but also to his imagination ; nevertheless, cousin 
 Sally's kindness and good humour were unfailing, 
 and her mistakes, at which she was the first to laugh, 
 were amongst the many ingredients of amusement 
 in the Seagrove circle. 
 
 Soon after their arrival, my mother moved to Sea- 
 grove, and we occupied the house taken for my 
 parents. And here a great change for the better 
 took place in our outward occupation. My father 
 had brought a beautiful little piebald horse, to draw 
 my mother in a pony-carriage ; he was called Lu- 
 cifer, from her name of Lucy. I do not know that 
 my mother ever used the pony-carriage, but my 
 father wished me to learn to drive, and Mr. Leathes, 
 Mr. Freame's tutor, who had just returned from 
 Cambridge, undertook to teach me. He came every 
 day before seven in the summer mornings, and we 
 took a long drive together, during which he told me 
 much of Cambridge, and of various things which 
 stimulated my love of study, as well as my love of 
 horses and dogs. His little dog " Pincher " was 
 almost always of the party, seated on the foot- 
 board. After breakfast, for which, as Mr. Leathes 
 
 K 3 
 
134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 observed, we, like Cyrus, had earned an appetite, he 
 kindly gave me my Latin lesson, and one in " Me- 
 moria Technica," now no longer dull and wearisome ; 
 he accompanied them with so many illustrations from 
 sensible objects, so many anecdotes, and so much in- 
 formation, that everything he taught made a vivid 
 mark upon the mind ; and when I contrasted the deep 
 interest I now felt in my lessons with my former 
 distaste for the same studies, I became aware that 
 progress in learning depends as much on the talent 
 of the teacher as of the learner; and that he who 
 would efficiently teach must always, as far as pos- 
 sible, render his instructions palpable to the perceptive 
 faculties, by the use of images formed in the imagi- 
 nation through individuality, form, colour, and com- 
 parison. Truths thus taught will be apprehended 
 as vivid realities, and be ever afterwards remembered 
 as a part of the learner's own mind and experience. 
 Thus, when I had learnt formerly, in the " Memoria 
 Technica," the dreary list of the names of the 
 Judges of Israel, they presented no image to the 
 eye of my mind ; but after Mr. Leathes brought 
 before it, Gideon by his threshing-floor, the angel 
 under the oak, and the men with their lamps and 
 pitchers descending on the Midianites by night; 
 Deborah sitting in state under the palm tree, and 
 ruling all Israel ; and Jair with his thirty sons, and 
 their milk-white asses ; I had — by the influence of 
 
MARY ANXE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 135 
 
 kindness and wisdom, (which Mr. Leathes told me 
 was " woman's influence,") — a living picture before 
 me of each event, and thus I not only learnt these 
 things from Mr. Leathes, but learnt a lesson in the 
 art of teaching. 
 
 After Mr, Leathes' lesson succeeded hours of re- 
 creation, not now wasted in idle sauntering, but 
 often spent with William Priestley, and my little 
 goat " Pan," under the shade of an old tree that 
 grew over a wild bank, when he often played to the 
 goat and to me on the flute, and showed the goat's 
 fondness for music, and told abundance of anecdotes 
 of natural history, and also of his life at Daventry. 
 I became deeply interested about their mimic wars 
 of Grecians and Trojans, and their hunts after the 
 Calydonian boar, all of which recitals led me to 
 acquire much information concerning the myths to 
 which they referred. 
 
 Then William Priestley was a dexterous carver in 
 wood. How much I liked, under his direction, to 
 carve draughtsmen, dice, and chessmen, especially the 
 horses' heads of the knights, and the battlements of 
 the castles. I mention these minutiae, because I think 
 they greatly led to the cultivation of constructivc- 
 ness : he also taught me to make charts, and to bind 
 books, and these things, begun in amusement, I have 
 found of great use in after life. In the evenings 
 when it was rainy, William Priestley would often 
 
 K 4 
 
136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 come and amuse me with tales from the " Arabian 
 Nights," which was a very favourite book, not only 
 with himself, but also with Dr. Priestley. With my 
 mother, we never read books of impossible fiction ; 
 but I have often since thought that the effect of these 
 tales upon me at that period was decidedly good. 
 How pure and wholesome did the "Arabian Nights" 
 appear after the sickly, mawkish, sentimental novels 
 which had deluged our school-room and the tables 
 at Seagrove. These tales, on the contrary, were 
 simply recreative and amusing ; their very extrava- 
 gance prevented their having that semblance of 
 truth which would lead to false expectations. The 
 " Arabian Nights " were full of vivid pictures and 
 imagery, full of allusions to the customs, belief, 
 legends, and system, current among the Mussulmans 
 and Parsees, and hence every evening's amusement 
 with William Priestley sent me next morning to 
 Mr. Leathes, to get the " Bibliotheque Orientale," or 
 some other similar work, in order to make myself 
 fully acquainted with Ibblis, Istakhan, the vener- 
 able Simurge, the Giaours, or the Fire-worshippers, 
 as the case might be. The glimpses which the 
 (( Arabian Nights " were the means of affording me 
 in these various branches of information, though at 
 that time desultory and superficial, were not without 
 their value in their results in after life ; and as works 
 of recreation are at all ages necessary to healthful 
 
MART ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 137 
 
 refreshment, I am here again reminded of the 
 blessing writings like those of Sir Walter Scott have 
 been, not only to his own, but to succeeding genera- 
 tions. In the minds of the young they have sown, 
 perhaps, the first seeds of a taste for biography or 
 history, whilst to the aged, his works have often been 
 the means both of renewing their reminiscences, and 
 of stimulating their sympathies at a period of life 
 when social as well as religious feelings need to be 
 refreshed, not only by the dews from Heaven, but 
 also from the little bubbling fountains which God 
 has deposited within the earth. 
 
 A few concluding recollections of our society at 
 Dawlish. In the circle at Seagrove, I remember a 
 Mr. Lytton, a man of great peculiarity. A few 
 sentences that he spoke deeply fastened themselves 
 on my mind. One day, on hearing some person 
 observe, " What would be said of such a thing ? " he 
 replied, " How can you mind what persons say ? 
 The judgment of mankind is fallacy and folly." 
 It was answered, " Nay, universal judgment must 
 be based on truth. ( Vox populi, vox Dei.'" Mr. 
 Lytton said, " Determine for yourself. When Ad- 
 miral Rodney gained his great victory, did not all 
 England illuminate and rejoice? and was he not pro- 
 nounced one of the greatest of men ? Yet what did 
 he do, but annihilate his enemies, and destroy human 
 life ? The other day, young Groves " (a Methodist 
 
138 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 at Dawlish) " knelt down in the midst of the market- 
 place, when much wickedness was going on, and 
 earnestly prayed to God for the people around ; he 
 was called mad : what, then, is popular opinion ? For 
 the wholesale destruction of human life, you pro- 
 nounce a man great ; and for trust in God, the only 
 infallibly wise thing, you pronounce a man mad ; — 
 so much for the value of human judgment!" 
 
 Amongst Sir William Watson's visitors at Daw- 
 lish was also Dr. Priestley. I shall never forget the 
 innocent and child-like delight which Dr. Priestley 
 seemed to feel in the natural objects which here 
 surrounded us; — the waves of the ocean, the light 
 and shadows on the rocks, the sea-weeds and shells 
 and marine plants, all seemed to furnish him with 
 inexhaustible subjects for recreation. He delighted 
 in explaining them; and spoke of everything 
 around as if his abiding feeling were not merely, 
 " Supreme Wisdom has created this or that," but, 
 " My Heavenly Father's love has given it to us 
 richly to enjoy." The glad expression of his coun- 
 tenance seemed to show that he recognised each as a 
 new gift from his Father, which, however trifling in 
 itself, spoke to him of an immeasurable love. 
 
 Dr. Priestley was eminent for his social talents ; 
 and one thins: I here wish to observe. He some- 
 times, I believe, has been thought sharp in his ex- 
 pressions in controversy ; but those who knew him 
 
MARY AXNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 139 
 
 well, fully understood him in this respect. A sharp 
 and acute intellectual perception, often a pointed, 
 perhaps a playful expression, was combined in him 
 with a most loving heart. I remember that whilst 
 we were at Bath, Mrs. Priestley related an anecdote 
 in point. Dr. Priestley's discoveries on air are well 
 known. Whilst he w T as occupied in his first and 
 most important investigation on this subject, the 
 results of which he was anxiously wishing to lay 
 before the annual meeting of the Royal Society, he 
 was inopportunely called away from home. This 
 was a trial, as he was anxiously watching the results 
 of a particular experiment. His absence was how- 
 ever unavoidably prolonged to some days. He left 
 his gases, contained in inverted glasses, immersed in 
 water, and charged Mrs. Priestley that no one should 
 touch them ; and knowing what foes good housemaids 
 are to philosophers, he rang the bell, and himself 
 desired the housemaid to disturb nothing in his study. 
 Sally, w r e may suppose, thought that Dr. Priestley's 
 desires that "nothing might be disturbed" meant 
 that all should be put in order, and accordingly she 
 set to work, and on Mrs. Priestley's return from a 
 walk, what was her horror to find all the gas glasses 
 removed, carefully wiped, and put by on the shelf, 
 the water thrown away, and the gas of course es- 
 caped ! Great was Mrs. Priestley's dismay ; and she 
 sat down to consider how best to break the sad news 
 
140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 to the Doctor, who was hourly expected. She de- 
 cided it would be best to prepare him for some signal 
 misfortune, and accordingly told him, on his arrival, 
 to prepare for something which must cost him much 
 pain. Dr. Priestley, in much alarm, thinking perhaps 
 one of his children was ill, asked what was the 
 matter. When he heard what had happened, his 
 countenance brightened, and he said, " Thank God 
 it is only that ! It might have pleased Him to have 
 taken one of our children : the evil will only cost 
 me a few weeks' labour, and if some other should 
 make the discovery before me, by means of this 
 delay, it will be equally useful to the world." 
 
 Dr. Priestley always spent part of every day in 
 devotional exercises and contemplation ; and unless 
 the railroad has spoilt it, there yet remains at 
 Dawlish a deep and beautiful cavern, since known 
 by the name of " Dr. Priestley's Cavern," where he 
 was wont to pass an hour every day in solitary retire- 
 ment. When I consider how much of religious 
 light and how many branches of religious truth Dr. 
 Priestley wanted, I am more and more struck with 
 his great fidelity in carrying out that which he had 
 received, and impressed with the deep vitality of that 
 Tree of Life, any portion of w T hich is so distinguished, 
 in its immortal fruits, from the products of the 
 earthly nature. O Lord, the living God ! the light 
 that lighteth every man that cometh into the world, 
 
MARY ANNE SCII1MMELPENNINCK. 14 i 
 
 not only bestow upon us life, but give it more abun- 
 dantly ! 
 
 I have, as I have said, known many estimable and 
 excellent Unitarians, whose earnestness and fidelity 
 in doing good might have put to shame many whose 
 lio-ht was greater ; but I have ever been struck with 
 the Unitarian powerlessness in doing spiritual good — 
 doubtless from a deficiency in spiritual truth ; and I 
 have remarked that, even in the most excellent, their 
 utility is mainly circumscribed to temporal results. 
 How often have I admired their zeal in clothing the 
 naked or feeding the hungry, while I have seen 
 them bereft of power to comfort the troubled in 
 mind, or to assuage the spiritual conflict, or to help 
 those who were mourning under a sense of sin and 
 helplessness. I have indeed often seen with pain, 
 that while the temporal aid bestowed by the Uni- 
 tarian, whose religion was vital, has been zealous 
 and abundant, the aid, whether spiritual or temporal, 
 of merely professing orthodox Christians has been 
 null and void; but oh ! how much better is a minute 
 portion of truth held in life, than a large portion 
 held in the palsy of death ! 
 
 One word of my dear mother, before taking a final 
 leave of Seagrove. I had not the opportunity of speak- 
 ing much to her during this period, for I generally 
 saw her in the family circle ; yet, amidst it all, I shall 
 never forget how beautiful appeared the simplicity 
 
142 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 of her dress, and her lofty dignity and calm cheerful- 
 ness, in contrast to the prettinesses around ; and well 
 I remember, as a child, sitting and looking upon her 
 countenance, and comparing it with the rouge and 
 powder and curls of others; and my eye loved to 
 rest upon her transparent and beautiful complexion, 
 the varying colour of which seemed but as a thin 
 covering to the soul, adorning and yet softening the 
 majesty of her well-chiselled features, and the rich 
 clusters of her dark brown hair. I was then a little 
 child, standing at her knee : I now write this, my 
 own hair snowy white 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 143 
 
 PART III. 
 
 1788—1789. 
 
 " But he had felt the power 
 Of nature, and already was prepared, 
 By his intense conceptions, to receive 
 Deeply the lesson deep of love, which he 
 Whom nature, by whatever means, has taught 
 To feel intensely, cannot but receive. 
 
 " You never saw, your eyes did never look 
 On the bright form of ber whom once I loved ; 
 Her silver voice was heard upon the earth, 
 A thing unknown to you." 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 Early in October, we returned to Barr. My 
 cousin Christiana Gurney accompanied us. We 
 were three or four days on the road. Mr. Leathes, 
 who was with us, had his pistols cocked ready at 
 hand, so great at that time was the fear of highway- 
 men. How delightful to me was the first sight of 
 the pinnacles of the well-known tower of Worcester 
 Cathedral. How great the pleasure with which I 
 left it behind, and passed the little inn at Northfield, 
 embosomed in the barren Lickeys, and with which 
 I again picked up some specimens of quartz from 
 the rock which my father had long before pointed 
 out to me, and the delight with which I entered the 
 
144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 first gate that, leaving the high road, began the ap- 
 proach to the grounds of Barr. 
 
 Then came the venerable oak wood and steep 
 precipice shagged with trees, and the water below, 
 where the water-fowl were disporting amidst the 
 flags and reeds, then the winding road, opening at 
 last by a sudden turn, and disclosing the turrets and 
 Gothic windows of my dearly loved home. I was 
 almost too glad to believe it all real ; I seemed, as 
 in one instant, to be at once in every room ; and the 
 thought that I should be with my dear mother there, 
 as I once was, seemed almost overwhelming. 
 
 Soon after our return home, my mother resumed 
 her Sunday instructions. I, every week, not only 
 learned some preceptive texts by heart, but was 
 questioned by her as to how I understood them. 
 She diligently taught me, likewise, the historic cate- 
 chism of the Old and New Testament, showing me 
 the map of all the places named. As she spoke, the 
 places, the events, and almost portraits of the actors, 
 seemed vividly to unfold before me; and though I 
 had none of what might be called dogmatic instruc- 
 tion, I fully believe that my mother's mode of teach- 
 ing that which she did teach, was, by the blessing of 
 God, the means of deeply fixing on my heart the 
 thorough reality of Scriptural truth, the thorough 
 reality of the Being of God, and the glad and soul- 
 filling, though awful happiness of living in a sense 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 145 
 
 of His Holy and Loving Presence ; one, with which 
 not all the things of this earth can be compared ; 
 and though I knew but very little, that little seemed 
 then to sink into my heart, and become an integral 
 part of myself. Nor can I ever forget, that one of 
 the first things in which my dearest mother occupied 
 herself, was to form for me a manuscript arrange- 
 ment of the Prophecies and Gospels, with the his- 
 toric circumstances of their fulfilment. Thus, after 
 a long night of living without God in the world, I 
 felt again called to His paternal and sustaining care. 
 I also remember the deep delight with which the 
 prophetic language of Scripture now began to inspire 
 me by its sublime and elevating beauty. My first 
 ideas of the truly sublime were taken from the 
 8 th and the 104th Psalms, the descriptions of the 
 spectral spirit, and the war-horse, in the Book of Job, 
 and the prophecies of Isaiah and Zephaniah against 
 Babylon and Nineveh. Thus was the Bible made 
 not only the standard of principle, but that of taste 
 and imagination ; and now, how can I sufficiently 
 express my deep gratitude to my mother for all her 
 care ? If the Psalmist has said, in relation to God, 
 the great Parent, " Bless the Lord, O my soul, and 
 forget not all His benefits," there is a subordinate 
 sense in which the same may be applied to an earthly 
 parent. How many of the blessings, both from the 
 
 VOL. I, L 
 
146 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 one and the other, have we shamefully neglected, 
 misused, and undervalued ! how often have we, for a 
 season, perhaps, trampled under foot the seed of life, 
 which, nevertheless, through the unmerited mercy 
 of God, has sprung up again and again, though 
 scorched by summer heat or nipped by winter frost, 
 and at last, through the same Divine blessing, has 
 produced its tardy fruit unto life eternal ! 
 
 How many, like me, reckless in childhood, have in 
 after years, with deep compunction of heart, recog- 
 nised the unspeakable mercies of that God who has 
 found the means by which iniquity may be forgiven 
 and sin covered. And now I was again established 
 in my home. Many months of absence, which at 
 my age seemed interminable, had intensified the 
 feeling connected with every part. Not a tree nor 
 meadow flower, but now, in addition to its beauty, 
 was richer in the power of associated memories. 
 Besides this, the few months that had passed, and 
 the variety of objects crowded into them, had formed 
 an era in the development of my mind and in its 
 powers of comparison ; and my very heart now felt 
 the pre-eminent value of my own home, its beauty, 
 its peacefulness, and its simple unity of principle. 
 
 Little by little, amidst the halo of joy, I seemed 
 to discern again, with fresh pleasure, many things I 
 had before enjoyed, but which I was now better 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 147 
 
 able to appreciate. Mr. Berfington again became 
 our constant visitor. How I delighted in his anec- 
 dotes of Cowper the poet, of Mrs. Unwin, Lady 
 Austen, and Lady Hesketh, all of whom he met 
 continually at Sir John Throckmorton's. He read 
 the whole of " The Task " aloud to us ; and the 
 pleasure with which I listened to this truly English 
 poet, full of heart for his fatherland, still rises before 
 my mind. 
 
 Another great pleasure I had at this time was in 
 my school hours. I had left behind the weariness 
 of the early Latin grammar, and was reading 
 Virgil and Tacitus. How eagerly did I watch every 
 day for our Latin master, as he crossed the distant 
 path that entered our meadow ; and how did I like 
 to get my books ready, during the ten minutes that 
 intervened ere he reached the house. Many of the 
 hours of these Latin lessons are imprinted amongst 
 my pleasantest remembrances. Our school-room 
 was most cheerful ; its two Gothic windows looked 
 on the meadow before the house girdled with trees ; 
 on the right appeared the tower of the church, and 
 the sound of its distant bell seemed to add to its 
 peace, without interrupting its stillness. How often, 
 as I sat at my lessons near the open window, has the 
 air been filled with the cooing of the wood-pigeon 
 and the distant sound of the woodman's axe ; and 
 L 2 
 
148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 with what pleasure have I read Virgil's Eclogues, 
 and especially those lines in the first, beginning 
 
 " Fortunate senex, ergo tua rura inanebunt," 
 
 delighting in the close of the passage. 
 
 It also was a pleasure, every day after dinner, to 
 watch for the first glimpse of the red jacket of a little 
 cripple — a Catholic boy, — who might be seen 
 emero-ino; from the same road our Latin master had 
 trod some hours before, and to watch him coming 
 down, on his crutches, to the house, where my dear 
 mother had him treated every day with his dinner, 
 and sent him hemlock dressings for his wounds. In 
 summer, while he rested after his long walk, we 
 were allowed to take out to him, on the lawn, some 
 nice cool fruit. He came thus for several years ; and, 
 through my mother's care and interest with her 
 friends at Oscott, he was at length advanced to 
 receive a suitable education, and became, finally, a 
 highly respectable teacher there. 
 
 We now resumed our Friday visits to Dudson. 
 What a delight it was once again to look upon my 
 grandfather's venerable, intelligent, and kind coun- 
 tenance, and to receive his affectionate welcome. 
 Our rides thither I especially enjoyed. It was 
 about eight miles from Barr, through sequestered 
 lanes, whose banks were rich in flowers, or over- 
 arched with dark umbrageous trees. These lanes 
 opened at intervals on wide commons, where the 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINC K. 1 49 
 
 gorse, and heath, with various animals, and ragged 
 children who tended them, added to the wild and 
 picturesque effect. 
 
 How sweet, and peaceful, and cordial was our 
 reception at Dudson. Everything, from the dinner, 
 the fruit, the conversation, the pictures, and the 
 playthings provided for our entertainment, as well as 
 the manners of my grandfather, and those of our 
 excellent friend, Lizzie Forster, spoke, as plainly as 
 though it had been uttered in words, the desire to 
 mark love and kindness, without ever forgetting to 
 make our enjoyment wise and refreshing, so that, 
 when we returned, the sober and kindly influence of 
 love and wisdom might still rest on the heart and 
 mind. How is the influence of others blest to us, 
 not by the brilliance, or even wisdom, of what they 
 say, but by the power of what they themselves are, 
 sent home to the heart by the Divine Spirit ! 
 
 Amongst the habitual family routine to which we 
 now returned, was that of receiving the Lunar 
 meetings. The first of these was marked by Mr. 
 Boulton's presenting to the company his son, just 
 returned from a long scjour at Paris. I well re- 
 member my astonishment at his full dress in the 
 highest adornment of Parisian fashion ; but I noticed, 
 as a remarkable thing, that the company (which 
 consisted of some of the first men in Europe) all 
 with one accord gathered round him, and asked 
 
 L 3 
 
150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 innumerable questions, the drift of which I did not 
 fully understand. It was wonderful to me to see 
 Dr. Priestley, Dr. Withering, Mr. Watt, Mr. Boul- 
 ton himself, Mr. Keir, manifest the most intense 
 interest, each according to his prevailing character- 
 istics, as they almost hung upon his words ; and it 
 was impossible to mistake the indications of deep 
 anxiety, hope, fear, curiosity, ardent zeal, or thought- 
 ful gravity, which alternately marked their counte- 
 nances, as well as those of my own parents. My 
 ears caught the words, " Marie Antoinette," " the 
 Cardinal de Rohan," " diamond necklace," " famine," 
 " discontent among the people," " sullen silence, 
 instead of shouts of i Vive le Roi ! ' " All present 
 seemed to give a fearful attention. Why, I did not 
 then well know, and, in a day or two, these things 
 were almost forgotten by me ; but the rest of the 
 party heard, no doubt, in this young man's narrative, 
 the distant, though as yet faint, rising of the storm 
 which, a year later, was to burst upon France, and, 
 in its course, to desolate Europe. 
 
 Though outwardly my life was now much the 
 same as before I went to Dawlish, yet, as I have 
 said, a great change had taken place within. I had 
 before singly wished — that is to say, had singly ac- 
 knowledged as my standard, the wish — to do what 
 was right. I had now become perplexed between 
 that motive and others grow r ing from a different 
 root. I was thus in a state of mind to receive evil 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPEXXINCK. 151 
 
 from a new and hurtful influence which now ap- 
 proached our family circle. 
 
 It was in the course of that autumn that the 
 celebrated Dr. Darwin first came to see my mother 
 at Ban*. His arrival was an era in my life ; I saw 
 him then with the eyes of a child, and now, in age, 
 I can only describe him from the stores I then 
 locked up in my memory. 
 
 It was in the latter part of the morning that a car- 
 riage drove up to our door, of that description then 
 called a " Sulky," because calculated to hold one person 
 only. The carriage was worn, and bespattered with 
 mud. Lashed on the place appropriated to the boot in 
 ordinary carriages was a large pail for the purpose of 
 watering the horses, together with some hay and oats 
 beside it. In the top of the carriage was a skylight, 
 with an awning which could at pleasure be drawn 
 over ; this was for the purpose of giving light to the 
 doctor, who wrote most of his works on scraps of 
 paper with a pencil as he travelled. 
 
 The front of the carriage within was occupied by 
 a receptacle for writing-paper and pencils, likewise 
 for a knife, fork, and spoon ; on one side was a pile of 
 books reaching from the floor to nearly the front 
 window of the carriage ; on the other, a hamper 
 containing fruit and sweetmeats, cream and sugar, 
 great part of which, however, was demolished during 
 the time the carriage traversed the forty miles which 
 
 L 4 
 
152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 separated Derby from Barr. We all hastened to the 
 parlour window to see Dr. Darwin, of whom we had 
 heard so much, and whom I was prepared to honour 
 and venerate, in no common degree, as the restorer 
 of my mother's health. What then was my astonish- 
 ment at beholding him as he slowly got out of the 
 carriage ! His figure was vast and massive, his 
 head was almost buried on his shoulders, and he 
 wore a scratch wig, as it was then called, tied up in 
 a little bob-tail behind. A habit of stammering 
 made the closest attention necessary, in order to un- 
 derstand what he said. Meanwhile, amidst all this, 
 the doctor's eye was deeply sagacious, the most so I 
 think of any eye I remember ever to have seen ; and 
 I can conceive that no patient consulted Dr. Darwin 
 who, so far as intelligence was concerned, was not 
 inspired with confidence in beholding him : his ob- 
 servation was most keen ; he constantly detected 
 disease, from his sagacious observation of symptoms 
 apparently so slight as to be unobserved by other 
 doctors. His horror of fermented liquors, and his 
 belief in the advantages both of eating largely, and 
 eating an almost immeasurable abundance of sweet 
 things, was well known to all his friends ; and we had 
 on this occasion, as indeed was the custom whenever 
 he came, a luncheon-table set out with hothouse 
 fruit, and West India sweetmeats, clotted cream, 
 Stilton cheese, &c. AVhen the whole party were 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 153 
 
 settled at table, and I had lost the fear that the Doctor 
 would speak to me, and when, by dint of attention, I 
 could manage to understand what he said, I was as- 
 tonished at his wit, his anecdotes, and most entertain- 
 ing conversation. I was particularly amused by 
 anecdotes he told of his patients. There was one 
 lady, the Duchess of D — , whom he had recently 
 been called to attend, who was perishing, he said, 
 under the effect of the white enamel paint which 
 some ladies were then very fond of applying. The 
 doctor at once perceived the cause of her malady, but 
 he knew it would be tender ground to touch upon, 
 since her use of this cosmetic was kept a profound 
 secret, even from her family ; he therefore put on a 
 very grave face, and said she was certainly poisoned, 
 asked if she had had her servants long, and if she 
 had reason to think they owed her ill-will; he then 
 said he should make the strictest examination of all 
 the kitchen utensils, which he did ; no satisfaction 
 could be obtained. He then informed her Grace 
 that poison might be absorbed by the skin as well as 
 received by the stomach ; had she observed the dyes 
 of her gloves ? &c. &c. At last, the Duchess of D — 
 after a great struggle, confessed she used the white 
 lead enamel. It was soon removed. Dr. Darwin's 
 ingenuity furnished her with some vegetable cos- 
 metic in its stead ; and her Grace completely reco- 
 vered. 
 
154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 With this, and various other anecdotes, did Dr. 
 Darwin beguile the time whilst the dishes in his 
 vicinity were rapidly emptied : but what was my 
 astonishment when, at the end of the three hours 
 during which the meal had lasted, he expressed his 
 joy at hearing the dressing-bell, and hoped dinner 
 would soon be announced. At last, to my sorrow, he 
 discovered me, and said, " I will now see if you are 
 a clever and industrious little girl ; translate me these 
 lines of Virgil," on which he began, no doubt, to re- 
 peat them, but to me, who could not even understand 
 his English, they were wholly unintelligible. He 
 then quoted some Greek lines, of which language I 
 knew not a word, so that I got into great disgrace 
 with him. This is the recollection of my first 
 childish impressions of Dr. Darwin ; an eventful 
 day, not only for myself, was that which first intro- 
 duced him to our family circle. 
 
 The immediate result of Dr. Darwin's visit and 
 advice was the removal of my mother to a moderately 
 sized house in one of the best parts of Birmingham 
 for the winter. Meanwhile, we children remained 
 at Barr. My little brothers daily attended a boys' 
 school about a mile and a half distant, towards which 
 we often went, in an evening, through meadows, 
 mossy woods and lanes, to bring them home. If I did 
 well in the week — that is, if I had a good report in 
 the books of Mademoiselle and the various masters — 
 
MARY ANNE SCUIMMELPENNINCK. 155 
 
 I went to my mother on Friday evening, and stayed 
 till the middle of the Monday. This was my ani- 
 mating motive through the week, and the zeal with 
 which it inspired me, and the pleasure which it spread 
 over my studies, have often brought to my mind the 
 deep truth concealed in that text, rt The joy of the 
 Lord is your strength." If hope is so powerful 
 with respect to those we love with a strong earthly 
 love, how animating must that be which has God for 
 its object, and which is kindled by the Holy Spirit 
 of truth ! 
 
 My mother was now fully equal to direct the 
 general superintendence of our studies, and the out- 
 line of our employment. I was now a year older, 
 and I began to take heartfelt interest in my lessons, 
 and in the books I read. I particularly remember 
 the very great pleasure I had in reading Rollin's " Arts 
 and Sciences of the Ancients." It was now a delight 
 to me to study alone ; and, in any perplexing passage, 
 I asked my Latin tutor to direct me to the books 
 which would give me the information I wanted. 
 
 William Priestley often came to spend some days 
 with us ; and he helped with equal pleasure to make 
 battering-rams, and to form models of temples, with 
 a view to elucidate Rollin ; or he told us fairy tales, 
 and made balloons for our amusement. How well 
 I remember when William Priestley and I, with the 
 labuur of several weeks, made a pretty accurate 
 
156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 model, in clay, of the facade of the temple of Diana 
 at Ephesus. We children had then a little sail- 
 cloth tent, erected in the botanic garden near the 
 cascade, fitted up with table and chairs, and there we 
 often examined our botanic and entomologic speci- 
 mens. It had a double door, and thither William 
 Priestley and I daily resorted, to continue our archi- 
 tecture. I had it much at heart to complete our 
 work perfectly, that I might offer it to my dear 
 mother, to prove to her how diligently I had read 
 the books which she had given me. Thanks to 
 William Priestley, the facade was at last very beau- 
 tifully finished, and I was congratulating myself 
 upon it, when Mademoiselle — who, however, was 
 generally very good-natured — in a fit of displeasure 
 happened to sweep our model down, and it was 
 broken. I cannot describe my vexation, and I think 
 scarcely an accident in my life inflicted on me a 
 more pungent disappointment. William Priestley 
 laughed immoderately, and cried out, " All hands to 
 work to make the battering catapulta against her ! 
 And now, Mademoiselle, do you take notice. This 
 tent represents Greece ; this double door is the Pass 
 of Thermopylae, and you shall never be suffered to 
 go through it again : you shall see that we are as 
 brave as Leon id as, and yet we will not sup with 
 Pluto, but you may do so if you like." Made- 
 moiselle looked thoroughly discomfited. By this 
 
MARY ANNE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 157 
 
 time I had recollected myself, and I said, " No, 
 William, Leonidas would have done so, but the 
 Apostles would not, ( Bless them that curse you, and 
 do good to them which despitefully use you and perse- 
 cute you. 7 This shall not then be the Pass of Ther- 
 mopylae, to keep out Mademoiselle, but the narrow 
 way and strait gate which we will go through to- 
 gether ; so she shall not sup with Pluto, but we will 
 invite her to our supper : " for we were going to 
 have a little treat of fruit and flowers from our gar- 
 dens, after the cowslip-tea from flowers of our own 
 gathering, which we tried to believe was excellent. 
 
 I am often surprised when I think of my present 
 pacific principles, and I may say disposition, and re- 
 collect the great delight I then had in all that part 
 of Ivollin which describes the wars of the ancients. 
 The battering-ram, the ballista, the tortoise, the 
 musculus, and the crow were then objects of great 
 interest and study to me ; and I remember saving my 
 pocket-money to purchase Mezerai's Tactics. AVe 
 used to arrange all the different battles with hazel- 
 nuts and holly-berries, according to the plans in 
 that book. Grievous was it to me when the dress- 
 ing bell sounded, and interrupted the battle of 
 Thymbra, Issus, or Arbela. 
 
 Another very different book which I used to read 
 at my lying-down time, was Hume's " History of 
 England." I had taught myself a little Anglo-Saxon, 
 
158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and I was very fond of getting Anglo-Saxon histo- 
 ries, which a friend borrowed for me from the library 
 of Lichfield Cathedral, and which I deciphered 
 by means of Lye and Manning's Anglo-Saxon 
 dictionary. I also endeavoured to get all the ori- 
 ginal English histories I could — which, indeed, were 
 not many, — and books on armour and Scandinavian 
 mythology, in which William Priestley was a great 
 help ; and we both enjoyed various traces of legen- 
 dary lore which we delighted to dress up and expand 
 into tales, according to our own imagination. The 
 history of Queen Elizabeth and Mary Stuart above 
 all interested me ; and I remember the deep sorrow 
 I felt when Babington's conspiracy on behalf of 
 Mary was discovered. I tried to find out all I 
 could of each of the conspirators, to imagine the 
 various motives by which they were actuated, 
 whether by generosity, compassion, religious zeal, 
 or envy against the English Queen. I began to 
 observe how many different motives may engage 
 persons in an action which, being outwardly one, 
 appears common to them all, and yet how widely 
 asunder their hearts may really be ! This led me 
 to think that men see the outward act, but God sees 
 the heart ; and that which is of importance for our 
 peace is, that the heart be clean in His sight, clean 
 by uprightness, or cleansed by His forgiveness. This 
 sentiment deeply weighed upon me. The reader 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 159 
 
 may perhaps recollect a skull which I had as a play- 
 thing when a little child, and which I had since 
 carefully kept amongst my treasures ; another hap- 
 pened to be given to me by a surgeon, when ex- 
 plaining the admirable contrivance of the bones of 
 the human head. I now took them both, and, in the 
 day-dream in which I was so often wont to indulge, 
 I constituted these two skulls into those of Anthony 
 Babington, whom I supposed the noble defender of 
 Mary, and John Polly, the mean betrayer of the 
 whole plot to Elizabeth. I gradually attached a 
 long history to each, beginning with their childhood, 
 and imagining how, little by little, noble daring, and 
 compassion, and self-devotion were nurtured in the 
 one, and meanness, and selfishness, and the full- 
 blown traitor's character were developed in the 
 other. Then I remember asking my grandfather 
 for some old yellow paper, which I fancied must be 
 paper of Queen Elizabeth's time, and imitating the 
 old English character, I wrote, in two little books, 
 the history I had affixed to each. I then wrapped up 
 the skulls and their histories in leaden paper, which I 
 imagined would last for ages, and put each into a box 
 with some coins I had of Queen Elizabeth's time, 
 taking care, however, to put the good coins into Ba- 
 bington's box, and the spurious or brass ones into 
 that of John Polly. Finally, I wrote upon the out- 
 side a solemn warning to all whose characters were 
 
160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 not yet formed ; and nailing up my boxes, I buried 
 them, by the help of the gardener, in my own little 
 garden, and over them I planted laurels and two 
 oaks. I said to myself, " The oak lives three hun- 
 dred years at least, and I shall have been long dead 
 ere these boxes see the light ; yet, by their means, a 
 word may be said which may be useful to somebody. 
 Though I am but a child, God may perhaps bless it." 
 I recall these two incidents, which, like many 
 others, have a deep interest to me, as exemplifying 
 a very favourite, and I think important, principle 
 which my intellectual father and my dear mother 
 were equally fond of inculcating on all their children: 
 this was to be deeply earnest in whatever we did, 
 and, whether it were great or little, to give our 
 whole mind and being to it. My parents both incul- 
 cated this principle on all who came within their 
 sphere, but on very different grounds. " Give your 
 whole mind to what you are about," said my mother ; 
 " for it is a part of practical truth and integrity ; 
 whatever you seek to do, really do, and what you 
 profess, really fulfil." " Give your whole mind to 
 what you are about," said my father, " whether in 
 play or study, for there is no pursuit, even in child- 
 hood, so trivial, but that numbers of useful things 
 may be made to cluster around it. On very little 
 pegs, may be made to hang an infinite variety of 
 useful things." And I may truly say that I have 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENN1NCK. 1G1 
 
 constantly found this practice, which I owe to the 
 instruction of my parents, assisted perhaps by my 
 choleric melancholic temperament, a great means of 
 obtaining much information which, in after life, I 
 have never failed to find useful. Thus, for example, 
 my wish to make a perfect model of the facade of 
 the temple of Diana led me thoroughly to study the 
 proportion of all the different orders of Roman and 
 Grecian architecture, and to ransack the library for 
 the history of the temple of Ephesus ; likewise to 
 consult Stuart's " Antiquities of Athens," in order 
 to compare it with the Parthenon, the Temple of the 
 Winds, and the Monument of Thrasyllus : besides 
 which it sent me to a brick-field to learn how to 
 manipulate clay, and inquire into the best form of 
 modelling tools, and the best proportions in which 
 wax and gum mastic might be used, as a coating to 
 the whole, by way of transforming our clay into 
 marble. 
 
 Again our interest in trying to make models of the 
 battering-rams, the catapulta, &c, exercised our 
 organs of constructiveness, gave us knowledge of 
 the various properties of different kinds of wood, 
 and proved a useful exercise in developing faculties 
 afterwards furnished with higher objects. 
 
 Then again, in the second instance, concerning the 
 skulls. It is surprising to myself to think how many 
 objects were in a certain degree attained by this 
 
 VOL. i. M 
 
162 AUTOBIOGRxVPHY OF 
 
 childish prank. Not to speak of information gained 
 on the manufacture of paper, its water-marks, and 
 its character at different dates, which I sought for 
 to make my manuscripts synchronise with my little 
 legends ; and not to speak of the industry with which 
 it set me to copy old English text, and to ransack 
 Spenser, and Sidney's " Arcadia " for the fashion of 
 language of Queen Elizabeth's time, it also led to 
 many much deeper thoughts. 
 
 It was a great object to me to consider what edu- 
 cation, what impression, and what train of circum- 
 stances, I could best select, to form and build up the 
 noble and disinterested character of Anthony Ba- 
 bington, and, on the other hand, what bad example, 
 what evil education, and what train of untoward 
 circumstances, I should interweave in my history, to 
 issue in the traitorous character I ascribed to John 
 Polly. The fancy thus carried out gave vitality in 
 my mind, to much concerning the highest interests 
 of the heart and conscience. 
 
 It has often happened that I have been told I 
 possessed a good memory : I might have replied that 
 it was not so ; for I had never been able to learn 
 anything by rote without extreme labour and diffi- 
 culty, but that I had obtained many gleamings of 
 information by constantly searching out in thorough 
 earnestness whatever I set about, and that the 
 knowledge so acquired was never lost^ but became 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 1G3 
 
 thenceforth a part of myself, because it was an ali- 
 ment supplied at the very moment I hungered for it. 
 I believe, that whether our wants be physical, in- 
 tellectual, or spiritual, a real hunger is never supplied 
 with its proper aliment, without thenceforth becoming 
 incorporated with the being of the receiver. This 
 truth I think most important to those who have to 
 teach others. It is as essential to the tutor in re- 
 moving ignorance as it is to the physician in remov- 
 ing disease, to create that appetite which enables 
 nutritious food to tell upon the system. John 
 Wesley used to say, " It is very hard that neither a 
 sense of duty, nor all my thunder from the pulpit, 
 can persuade young ladies and gentlemen to find 
 time or bodily strength for going half a mile to visit 
 a poor person, in the finest summer evening, whilst 
 these very same delicate time-loving ladies and gen- 
 tlemen will spend the whole night in dancing, which 
 at least must be an exercise equal to walking many 
 miles." So difficult, or so easy, do things become, 
 according; to the will. 
 
 It was at this time that my dear mother gave me, 
 on my birthday, " The Pilgrim's Progress ; " the 
 old edition, full of hideous, but then to me very in- 
 teresting copper-plates. This book formed quite an 
 era in my mind, yet its impression was by no means 
 unmingled. I knew nothing of the theological in- 
 struction which is now given to most children. " The 
 u 2 
 
164 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress " was read by me with the deepest 
 interest, but yet with most profound ignorance of the 
 meaning of the allegory. I saw indeed, in general, that 
 it was intended to set forth the struggle of a Chris- 
 tian ; besides this, its infinite variety of invention, its 
 marvels and its mysteries, delighted and excited my 
 imagination ; but then I also felt revolted by a cer- 
 tain want of elevation, and a vulgarism of expression. 
 But I still went on reading it. I could affix no idea 
 to the burden of Christian, the cross, and many 
 other parts. 
 
 I remember too, as amongst my greatest pleasures 
 towards the end of this year, the very great beauty 
 of the winter. It stands unparalleled in my recollec- 
 tion. It was a very severe one ; so far as I can 
 judge, fully as much, if not more so, than the cele- 
 brated winter of 1814. I shall never forget the 
 beauty of the landscape, the magnificent icicles on 
 the cascade I have so often spoken of, and the waters 
 near Barr : the varied character of the plumes of 
 frost which diversified the different trees ; the gaunt 
 oak, the elm, the birch, the willow, and the acacia, 
 as well as the holly, — all bore a distinct character, 
 in their winter, no less than in their summer dress ; 
 and I think my great pleasure at this season contri- 
 buted to form the especial taste I have always had 
 for a wintry landscape. In our continual expe- 
 ditions from Barr to Birmingham, the drifted snow 
 
MARY AXNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 165 
 
 was so deep in many places as to be far above the 
 top of the carriage, and that year, an ox was roasted 
 whole on the frozen Thames, and I believe that a 
 fair was held there. I ought not to forget, amidst 
 the amusements of this severe winter, the reading 
 with my mother a beautiful description of the Ice 
 Palace of Catherine II., and of her ice cannon, and 
 thence diverging to many interesting descriptions 
 of the glaciers of Chamouni and Mont Blanc, as 
 well as that of the stalactitic cave of Antiparos. 
 
 I have now spoken of my chief occupations 
 during this part of my childhood. About this period 
 I went to stay several weeks in Birmingham, and 
 that was in many respects a memorable time to me. 
 
 The slave-trade was a continual subject of conver- 
 sation at this time. We were also deeply interested in 
 the trial of Warren Hastings, and in BoswelFs " Life 
 of Johnson ; " and all the nation mourned, as with 
 the mourning of children, the heavy calamity which 
 had then befallen George III. With sad hearts his 
 subjects listened to discussions on the need of a 
 regency. Well I remember how no barrel-organ 
 ever played " God save the King," without bring- 
 ing tears to the eyes of many who listened ; and 
 good Mrs. Waring once saying to me, when I went 
 out of the parlour full of what I had heard respecting 
 the regency, " Well, God will not forget His own- 
 His blessed gospel has lit many a captive in a dark 
 
 M 3 
 
166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 dungeon. He will not forget the good king in his 
 darkened and solitary chamber. He may be sustain- 
 ing his heart as closely now as if he were on his 
 throne, covered with precious stones ; but O let all 
 his people bear him on their hearts day and night." 
 And as I write this, it forcibly comes before me, 
 how many vivid interests of time I have seen pass 
 away. 
 
 I believe that in youth and in middle life, there is 
 often a real conviction of the transitory nature of the 
 most established temporal things; but in old age it is 
 not merely a conviction, but a vivid palpable reality, 
 and the eternal mountains do then indeed appear near 
 at hand, whilst all the campaign around seems faded 
 into shadowy distance ; and I have often felt inclined 
 to say, like the monk who had exhibited the picture 
 of the Last Supper for forty years, that he had seen 
 so many pass away, that himself and those he spoke 
 to seemed a shadow, while the blessed institution of 
 the Holy Supper stood before him alone a reality. 
 
 At this time, by far my happiest hours, as well as 
 those of the greatest interest, were spent in the 
 morning alone with my dear mother. Complete 
 quietness was necessary for her during many hours 
 of the day. She was generally seated at her table 
 with her books, her plans of landscape gardening, or 
 ornamental needlework, whilst I was allowed to sit 
 in the room, but to be in perfect silence, unless when 
 
MARY ANNE SCIUMMELPENNINCK. 167 
 
 my mother called me to fetch anything, or addressed 
 to me some little kind word, which seemed not so 
 much to break the silence as to make it more com- 
 plete and happy by a united flow of heart. 
 
 One great source of happiness was the heartfelt 
 consciousness of my mother's kindness. I still re- 
 member the little plate of Portugal plums or Naples 
 biscuits placed on the sideboard for me, whilst I 
 was enjoying a rich feast consisting of the Bible, with 
 excellent prints from paintings of the first masters, 
 or the third and fourth volumes of Lavater's 
 Physiognomy. It was Madame de la Fitte's French 
 translation, equally distinguished for an eloquence 
 which gives it the effect of an original work, and for 
 accurate physiognomical portraits, the peculiar cha- 
 racteristics of which have been altogether blunted 
 and lost, in the English elaborate, but unfaithful 
 plates. Hour after hour did I spend entranced over 
 its contents. Its ardent piety, its elevated aims, 
 and consecrated objects absorbed my whole soul, 
 just as a first view of an ocean, a sunset, or a moun- 
 tain. How did the eighth Psalm, as I now read it 
 in Lavater, seem the utterance of my heart, and his 
 picture of the family of adoring worshippers, looking 
 upwards to God, with arms stretched out, soaring 
 towards the immortal world, made an indelible im- 
 pression on me. I took them to be all portraits ; 
 and my very heart said from its inmost depths, " O 
 
 31 4 
 
16S AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 that I knew such people ! people from whose faces and 
 attitudes the light of God's glory seems reflected ! " 
 Then I looked at all the other portraits, and read 
 what was said of each, with earnest curiosity. I 
 loved to see how, in every face, some trace of good- 
 ness, or intelligence, or capacity for blessing, might 
 be found. I remembered that whilst at Dawlish, my 
 cousin Christiana Gurney had found, in an old 
 woman's cottage, a black, begrimed and dirty painting, 
 which she declared, amidst all its apparent worth- 
 lessness, to have been the work of a distinguished 
 master. Accordingly, Sir William Watson, at her 
 desire, had it cleaned and restored, and it came out 
 a very beautiful picture. With just the same feelings 
 which my cousin Christiana Gurney had for this 
 picture, did I now begin to look at every human 
 beinor I felt sure each had been created in the 
 Divine image, however spoilt by superincumbent 
 rubbish and ill-usage, and that the original type 
 might yet be reached, and perhaps restored. 
 
 Lavater had taught me that the restoration God 
 effected in man was by intensity of love, and that 
 a copy of that love is the only means of restoration 
 man can employ towards his fellow ; just as pieces 
 of iron of various shapes and sizes, will grate against 
 each other, till exposed to the heat of a furnace, 
 when the cold hard iron will flow and melt together 
 in one. These thoughts were the means of opening 
 
MARY AXNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 169 
 
 to me a new source of interest. I have mentioned 
 while at Bath, the amusement of my clay dreams, in 
 observing the visitors we met in our walks, and 
 imagining the histories that belonged to them. This 
 was a mere idle amusement. I now felt a far deeper 
 interest in wishing to find in every person the true, 
 the beautiful, the spark of the Divine image of God, 
 and so to love it as to draw it forth. I never now 
 saw a human face without that feeling. At times 
 I almost longed to say, " Thou art created in the 
 image of the great God ; thy glory and thy dignity 
 is, that thou art invited to be eternally happy in con- 
 templating His glory. O think of thy destiny ! " 
 So vividly did I thus feel, that it was like the pos- 
 session of a new existence, and yet is it equally true 
 that the moral effect was by no means commensu- 
 rate with the power of the impression. 1 have often 
 marvelled at the cause of this. I think it must thus be 
 accounted for. The impressions of childhood, vivid 
 as they are, are widely different from those of ma- 
 turer age. Mature age receives hardly any impression 
 singly. The abode of the heart and intellect is already 
 occupied, and no new coiner can be admitted until 
 welcomed, or at least tolerated, by the old occupants : 
 every new impression in after life is complex ; it both 
 modifies others and is modified by them. The im- 
 pressions of mature age are like the melody of an 
 organ which is accompanied by a thorough-bass, rich 
 
170 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 in harmony ; while those of childhood are as distinct 
 strokes succeeding each other on a stringed instru- 
 ment. Again, early impressions are as seeds sown 
 side by side, of conflicting properties, which do not 
 interfere with each other whilst they remain latent 
 or shoot up in single stems, but as soon as they 
 grow up and spread forth branches, when they can- 
 not intertwine, they enter into conflict, and the end 
 is, that some of the plants must be rooted up. It is 
 chiefly through impressions like those of childhood, 
 distinct and separate, on the one hand, and through 
 the multiplied associations belonging to mature life 
 on the other, that the difference is formed between 
 the impulses of an inconsistent, and the principles 
 and sentiments of a consistent character. 
 
 At this period, then, a leaven was added to the 
 meal, but was not incorporated with it. There was 
 the salt, the corn the staff of life, and the water, 
 but they were utterly without coalescence ; and this 
 is the only way in which I can account at once for 
 the strength of the various feelings I then experienced, 
 and their want of continuous power. 
 
 It was to me of the deepest interest to watch every 
 change in my mother's countenance, as I sat beside 
 her. At times, the languor of nerves, so alien to the 
 strength which distinguished her character, pierced 
 me with sorrow and anxiety. Deeply did I feel 
 that my mother, whose word was like that of a queen 
 
MARY AXXE SCIUMMELPENNINCK. 171 
 
 to all within her circle, and to whom I had ever 
 looked as to a tower of strength, should invite me, a 
 child, and me only, to be the witness and sharer of 
 her hours of prostration. How often have I seen that 
 powerful mind unable perhaps to reprove the least 
 negligence or mistake without tears. It was not the 
 trifle itself that she cared for, but the being laid low, 
 and her inability to perform the part she desired. 
 Oh ! how fervently did I often pray to God, as I sat 
 with her, that He would indeed give me an under- 
 standing heart, that I might comprehend the language 
 of every look, and be able to supply her wants 
 before she could express them. This became another 
 source of interest to me in studying Lavater ; I not 
 only turned over his pages, and dwelt on every por- 
 trait, with the view to know the lines of character in 
 general, but I learnt to observe the fleeting changes 
 w r hich sweep across the countenance. And this 
 feeling with regard to my mother, and this book of 
 Lavater, have together been the means of laying the 
 foundation of what has been the prevailing bias of 
 my life. In after years, my physiognomical know- 
 ledge became much extended by a study of tempera- 
 ment and phrenology ; and as time went on, my ardour 
 expanded for tracing that connexion of mind with 
 the material world, that incarnation of truth in the 
 forms of beauty which imparts the charm to land- 
 scape, to music, to painting, and to architecture, 
 
172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 showing forth the attributes of the Divine Being in 
 them all. Afterwards it became still further ex- 
 tended in the solemn yet blessed delight of studying 
 God's own symbolism, not only in nature, but likewise 
 in the study of the Hebrew language — His own ap- 
 pointed tongue whereby to convey the revelation of 
 Himself, still under symbols, to His creature man ; 
 and thus, by a holy and blessed artistic power, to 
 bridge over the immense interval that separates spirit 
 from flesh, in order that HIS SPIKIT may teach 
 man more easily to " search the deep things of God," 
 by presenting them, as in the fulness of time He 
 presented His dear Son, in a form in which the 
 Divinity of the principle is both concealed and mani- 
 fested, under the incarnation. Thus was the die of 
 my inward life cast. 
 
 And yet at this time, very many other things, and 
 not only things, but principles, took their turn in my 
 heart. 
 
 I remember one day my mother saying, in the 
 course of conversation, " Never give way to what is 
 little ; or, by that little, however you may despise it, 
 you will practically be governed." Another obser- 
 vation she often made was, S( Observe how much 
 more easy we find it to forgive crimes than weak- 
 ness. He who falls deeply beneath a giant tempta- 
 tion, we sorrow for and sympathise with ; but he who 
 perpetually stumbles where there is no temptation 
 
MART ANNE SCIIIMMELPEXNINCK. 173 
 
 that we can appreciate, must ever strike us as an 
 utterly poor character." 
 
 Before my mother came clown for the evening, I 
 was often struck by the whole conversation being 
 frivolous, sentimental, and full of flattery ; I was no 
 less struck by the change which immediately took 
 place when she appeared. As the door opened, it 
 seemed as if the whole party rose into a more 
 elevated region, and the tone of conversation, just 
 now so poor and despicable, became animated and 
 refreshing, really answering the purposes of social 
 intercourse. I also observed that every one of the 
 actors in the little scene appeared to experience the 
 same relief as myself, and to enjoy being raised from 
 the low spot each had before occupied into higher 
 ground, where they all seemed to breathe more freely 
 and stand more erectly. 
 
 Truth, as the wise man says, is the most powerful 
 of all thing's. He therefore who walks in the truth 
 will ever practically hold a helping hand to those 
 who are less strong or less single-minded, and will 
 form a nucleus, round which will gather some who 
 were floating helplessly along the stream of the 
 world. I believe the strengthening and elevating 
 influence of my mother's character was the great 
 secret of my devoted love for her. In her presence 
 I became, for the time, transformed into another 
 person. 
 
174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Deeply as I felt the grandeur of my dear mother's 
 character, its nobility, power, generosity, and self- 
 subsistence, I was conscious how very different was 
 the sort of elevation which actuated me when under 
 the influence of Lavater. In him I saw before me 
 a greatness which seemed not to stand in the majesty 
 of earthly power or intellect, but in the contempla- 
 tion of heavenly glory. I saw glimpses of the high 
 dignity of man, not by anything he was in himself, 
 by philosophy or intellect, but from the greatness of 
 his call from God, and the greatness and goodness of 
 Him who gave the call. I had ever contemplated 
 with delight, the dauntless strength of the heroic 
 character ; now I began to have a glimpse of the 
 higher strength of the martyr's spirit, and to see 
 that all which philosophy can do, in its best and 
 noblest form, is to concentre man upon himself, and 
 so to make self-esteem his motive spring. I began 
 to see that the true elevation of man is founded on 
 the complete abasement of the creature and exalta- 
 tion of the Creator ; the strength of man on a know- 
 ledge of his weakness, leading to rest in the arm of 
 power ; and I saw that the plainness and unworld- 
 liness which I so much valued had their higher 
 foundation, not in contempt of others, or in the little- 
 ness of earthly distinctions, but in a love of eternal 
 things, which enables the heart to sit lightly to all 
 things temporal. 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 175 
 
 My morning hours with Lavater were succeeded 
 by historical studies ; and I can scarcely say how 
 strongly I felt the contrast between the pure eleva- 
 tion of the one and the brilliant but very different 
 glory of the other. And often as I entered with 
 zeal into the principle that " knowledge is power," I 
 began to question whether power be really happiness. 
 I look upon it as an unspeakable blessing that, at 
 this period of my life, it pleased God to place 
 before me the occupation to which my mornings 
 were devoted : notwithstanding all the varieties and 
 alternations of mind which succeeded each other in 
 the day, it was like a view opening itself before me 
 of an ocean of glory yet unimagined. Though I 
 might and did often turn my eyes from it, still I 
 knew it was there ; and again and again I returned 
 to it for elevation and refreshment. 
 
 The view thus afforded might be obscured, but it 
 could not be obliterated : the trifles of the world 
 might often entice and occupy, but I could never 
 forget that I had had a glimpse of heaven. I could 
 not forget that I had been on Tabor, though, alas ! I 
 felt unable to cast out the demons I met with on 
 the road downward from the mountain. Nor were 
 these contemplations only confined to my morning 
 hours : their results had a very great influence in 
 moulding my mental occupations throughout the 
 day. 
 
176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I frequently used to attend the Friends' Meeting. 
 It was seldom I entered it without feeling my heart 
 bowed within me. After a time of interior recollec- 
 tion, I looked with a deep and solemn interest on the 
 countenances of those around ; and whilst the whole 
 assembly maintained an unbroken silence, which to a 
 cursory observer might seem uniform, how varied, in 
 reality, was the eloquence of that silence ! Some 
 individuals amongst them, I thought, had in posses- 
 sion the happiness I was then looking for ; and when 
 the meeting was over, continually did I try to linger 
 near them, in hopes they might give me some little 
 word in passing. I should not have dared to address 
 them; yet whenever they spoke to me, I was glad- 
 dened at my very heart, the whole day went happily, 
 I felt it as the omen of a happy week, and I 
 looked forward to this little moment in the week to 
 come. 
 
 I used to observe the loving faces of the children, 
 as they passed up the Meeting to their respective 
 seats. The expression in many of them, of affec- 
 tionateness and simplicity, w T as very delightful to 
 me. I liked to contrast it with the richer and fuller 
 expression imparted by advancing years : it was like 
 watching the stops of an organ gradually drawn out, 
 from the simple diapason, then strong body-stops, 
 and lastly, the serene and ethereal tones of the 
 swell. 
 
MARY ANNE SCI11MMELPENNINCK. 177 
 
 My interest in countenances was at this time 
 so great, that it was my constant practice to draw 
 from recollection those which I had particularly ob- 
 served. That these sketches were badly done, I need 
 hardly say ; I had no knowledge of drawing, and I 
 have not naturally the organs of proportion : never- 
 theless, by dint of observation, and the study in 
 Lavater of the connection of mind with its outward 
 development, I acquired a certain degree of aptitude 
 at seizing the characteristic lines, so that these like- 
 nesses, if such caricatures might be dignified by that 
 name, were yet generally recognised. Some mem- 
 bers of our circle who were much given to satire 
 praised these likenesses, and called them clever, but 
 in truth what they mistook for wit was only an ig- 
 norance of drawing and proportion. It was in my 
 mind not to caricature, but simply to produce, in 
 the best way I could, the characteristic lines. This 
 habit continued many years, and so accurately did it 
 fix in my mind the lines, the expressions, and the 
 colouring of the remarkable countenances I then 
 saw, that even now I can recall them with ease and 
 exactness. 
 
 It was in the beginning of 1789 that my mother 
 was again far from well, and my father sent for Dr. 
 Darwin. Baneful and ominous these visits appeared 
 to me, and I felt an instinctive dread of them, child 
 as I was, for which I could assign no reason. All 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the winter I had been more or less under the upward 
 aspiration I have described ; and when on Dr. Dar- 
 win's arrival, he entered the room and sat down to the 
 usual well-spread table which had been provided for 
 him, I felt an instant repulsion. His whole conver- 
 sation, I remember, on that occasion was characterised 
 by the merriment and so-called wit which aimed its 
 perpetual shafts against those holy truths which, im- 
 perfectly though I yet knew them, afforded me the 
 only comfort in distress which I had ever experienced, 
 and seemed to me the only wells of living water in 
 the desert where we then found ourselves. \Yhen I 
 observed Dr. Darwin lingering over his repast, and re- 
 collected my mother's suffering state, and the high 
 eulogiums with which she always spoke of him, and 
 her care to maintain his honour and to consult his 
 comfort, I was struck equally with aversion and in- 
 dignation at conduct which appeared to me to evince 
 a total want of feeling. I do not give this as a judg- 
 ment upon Dr. Darwin ; perhaps, so far as his jocose 
 manner extended, he might imagine it an alleviation 
 in our care, but on me, a child, the impression was 
 indelible. I could not admit the possibility of his 
 allowing any idea to intervene between his entrance 
 into the house and his ascertaining my mother's 
 state and trying to relieve her. I will mention one 
 observation of Dr. Darwin's, to show how grievous 
 it is to receive objections to Holy Scripture without 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 179 
 
 first looking round and ascertaining if there be not 
 a reply. He said on one occasion that the Scriptures 
 of the Old Testament were a tissue of fables, un- 
 worthy to be trusted even by their own confession, 
 seeing it was there stated that the Book of the Law 
 was lost for a long period, and only found again in 
 the reign of Josiah. This staggered me not a little, 
 for he omitted to add that this applied only to the 
 original identical copy of the Law, since every king 
 of Judah was obliged to transcribe a perfect copy 
 upon his ascending the throne ; that copies in like 
 manner were deposited in every Levitical city, and 
 that so exact were they in point of correctness, that 
 the failure of one letter cancelled the sheet. Though 
 I shrank with horror from such observations, and the 
 sneering manner which accompanied them, and though 
 they seemed to strengthen my resolution in the oppo- 
 site direction, yet I believe from experience that it 
 is wise not even to listen to things we know to be 
 false, whether against the Holy Scriptures, or against 
 the character of individuals ; for though we may re- 
 but them at the time, yet often in hours of weakness 
 or particular temptation, those very things will recur 
 again, and insensibly obtain a lodgment even in the 
 mind which had at first unhesitatingly rejected 
 them. AVell has the word of God compared the ar- 
 guments of infidels to thorns and thistles ; like the 
 former, how do they lacerate and entangle the mind — 
 
 N 2 
 
180 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 or at least, as it were, catch the intellect or habits or 
 tastes, which are the mind's clothing, — and impede it ; 
 whilst, on the other hand, the sneers and gibes of the 
 infidel, like the worthless thistledown, from their very 
 lightness are wafted far and near, and soon grow up 
 into a crop of jooisonous weeds. 
 
 About this time I became much interested, during 
 my Dudson visits, in the anti-slavery cause. In the 
 evenings we often read pamphlets on the subject, 
 or examined in detail the prints of slave ships and 
 slave treatment. Mr. Clarkson was a constant 
 visitor at Dudson, and also at my cousin Lloyd's ; 
 and both my cousins and I resolved to leave off 
 sugar, as the only produce of slave labour within our 
 province to discontinue. Lizzie Forster strongly 
 urged me thus to maintain my anti- slavery principles. 
 
 When I returned home from Dudson, well fur- 
 nished with the prints and pamphlets which had so 
 deeply interested me, Mademoiselle diverted herself 
 by laughing at me, and trying by every means in 
 her power to make me give up this protest. I how- 
 ever continued stanch, from mingled conscience 
 and self-esteem. Mademoiselle told me that a lady, 
 a friend of hers, who had been foremost in preaching 
 the disuse of sugar, and substituting honey, had her- 
 self fed the bees all through the winter on treacle ! 
 I replied that this lady having been foolish did not 
 oblige me to be so ; and that, as we had no bees, I 
 
MABY ANNE SCniMMELrENNINCK. 181 
 
 could have no honey. She then asked me what dif- 
 ference it would make to the world, if a little child, 
 or ten thousand as foolish as I, took sugar or not : it 
 could not be as a thousandth part of a drop to the 
 ocean. I knew not what to reply, for I thought 
 Mademoiselle had the best of the argument, and yet 
 I had an internal conviction that I was right ; and I 
 think it was on this occasion I first powerfully felt, 
 that God does speak to the soul in a language which 
 the spirit of His children recognises as his Divine 
 voice. 
 
 In the afternoon, when I recovered my spirits, 
 and was in a better humour with Mademoiselle, I 
 took a large sheet of paper, and drew her in the 
 character of Apollyon, and myself as Christian, 
 thrown down with his sword escaped from his hand, 
 but yet seeking and hoping to recover it. 
 
 I was very glad, when at Dudson on the following 
 Friday, it so happened that Lizzie Forster said, how 
 thankful she was that so many were leaving off sugar. 
 " I hope," she added, " that this will be the beginning 
 of a general effort about slaves ; but whether it be so 
 or not, it is of no little importance to the individuals 
 themselves, whether that which is a practice of every 
 day be grounded on a love of pleasing ourselves or 
 on love to God and our neighbour, and the self- 
 denial, though but in a little thing, will not be 
 without a rich reward." I now felt armed against 
 
 N 3 
 
182 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Mademoiselle, who however behaved with the great- 
 est good-nature, as she did also on the following 
 occasion. 
 
 She was very fond of ridiculing my love for plain 
 dress, and liked to decorate herself in all the orna- 
 ments then in fashion, which happened at that period 
 to be both numerous and contrary to good taste. 
 Some of her acquaintance having come to visit her, 
 they with one accord ridiculed our appearance ; nor 
 would they allow us to escape, but closed in around 
 us to examine our dress in detail. Next morning 
 before breakfast, it was my amusement to draw one 
 of my sisters and myself in our plain white frocks, 
 as Christian and Faithful confined in the cage at 
 Vanity Fair, and Mademoiselle and her friends as 
 the town-people, mowing and gibing at them from 
 without. This picture I put up in Mademoiselle's 
 bedroom. She heartily laughed with us, and en- 
 joyed the joke as much as we did. 
 
 How truly I enjoyed my Dudson visit this year, 
 and how distinctly does its impression stand out from 
 the memory of all former ones, happy though they 
 always were. It was ever indeed with delight that 
 I returned from time to time to my dear grand- 
 father's, and to all the well-known and loved objects 
 of that home. Every servant, every dog, and almost 
 every pigeon, had its place in my remembrance ; and 
 yet the impressions I now received were new, and 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 183 
 
 in some respects peculiar. My grandfather was 
 cheerful, active, and most orderly ; his rule, though 
 strict, was one of respect and loving influence, the 
 effects of which were diffused over the whole house- 
 hold, while the bond itself never obtrusively appeared. 
 To look upon his venerable countenance, as he 
 walked about his garden, put me in mind, in these 
 my childish days, of Adam in Paradise. Fond in- 
 deed was he of keeping and dressing his beautiful 
 garden, and fond was he of his multitudes of animals : 
 his fine dogs, his fawns, his peacocks, his pheasants, 
 his poultry, and water-fowl, all seemed to delight in 
 flocking around him, to receive food from his hand, 
 and to answer to his call. He gave names to all 
 like the first Adam ; and so afterwards, when I read 
 of that Good Shepherd who knows all His own sheep 
 by name, the image appeared more powerful to me, 
 from the recollection of my dear grandfather. Not 
 one dumb dependent on his bounty was forgotten 
 by him ; and I loved to see how continually he would 
 recollect any that chanced to be absent, and have 
 them brought back if strayed, or kindly nursed if ill. 
 
 I have often since thought how blessed it is, not 
 merely to instruct children dogmatically, but to place 
 before them in daily actions such living pictures of 
 love and kindness as may teach the heart to under- 
 stand the images of Holy Scripture. 
 
 I believe, too, that my very fragile health had 
 
 N 4 
 
184 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 perhaps materially added to my appreciation and 
 enjoyment of the rest and repose of Dudson, and 
 tended to the great pleasure I always had in the so- 
 ciety of the aged. From the earliest periods of my 
 life, I recollect a feeling of oppression when sur- 
 rounded by numbers, and the exhaustion which I 
 experienced from pleasurable excitement, so that 
 through my whole life repose has been peculiarly 
 sweet to me. 
 
 At Dudson there was no rushing after anything, 
 either worldly or intellectual. It was a home of 
 constant activity, issuing from, and retiring to, a 
 centre of deep repose. There was an earnest appli- 
 cation of excellent sense to the daily duties of life, 
 to the minutest courtesy and kindness as well as to 
 the real interests of others. Everything great and 
 everything little seemed done in the same spirit, and 
 with the same degree of fidelity, because it was the 
 will of God ; and that which could not be traced to 
 His will was not undertaken at all. My dear grand- 
 father's heart often seemed to me as a fountain of 
 love, overflowing on all his neighbours, tenants, and 
 household, and yet the overplus was so rich that 
 there was still enough for every animal around. I 
 well remember the pleasure with which he would 
 bring me different sorts of lettuce or mulberry- 
 leaves, to see which my silk-worms loved the 
 best. 
 
MARY ANNE SClirMMELPENXINCK. 185 
 
 Nothing at Dudson was esteemed too little to be 
 cared for, and nothing too great to be undertaken at 
 the command of God ; and for this they daily exer- 
 cised both their mental and bodily powers on the 
 things around them, knowing that our Lord tho- 
 roughly furnishes each of His soldiers for his 
 work, and places before each the task he has to do. 
 These underlying principles I did not see at the time, 
 but their blessed effect I deeply felt. 
 
 There are few things I remember with more 
 thankfulness, than the association with those excel- 
 lent persons it was my privilege to sec continually 
 at my clear grandfather's. They were mostly mem- 
 bers of the society of Friends, an intimate and 
 social circle. 
 
 According to the order of those times, I, as a child, 
 never spoke but when spoken to ; but yet with my 
 new and inexhaustible pleasure in observing counte- 
 nances, it was a great delight to me to be allowed to 
 sit up till nearly nine o'clock, and, as it were, to throw 
 myself into the minds of our visitors with that in- 
 tense interest with which young people enter into the 
 unexplored ground of a tale or a poem. 
 
 To this day I remember tw T o sisters, Betsy and 
 Susanna Bradley, of Worcester, the plainest of 
 Friends, who often stayed for months together at my 
 grandfather's. It surprised me, that they who were 
 neither particularly elegant, nor accomplished, should 
 
186 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 be held in such high estimation by all around ; that 
 wheresoever they were, it seemed as though an unc- 
 tion was poured forth, healing and tranquillising as 
 it spread over the whole circle. I often asked my- 
 self, " What is this ? " I did not then know that it 
 was "the peace of God which passeth all under- 
 standing " which had been received into their hearts, 
 and thus poured itself forth spontaneously like a 
 precious ointment on all who came under its benign 
 influence. And so truly Christian were they, that 
 they not only had themselves the perfect ease of 
 those who forget self, but they succeeded in inspiring 
 everybody around them with something of the same. 
 How many circles, and how many persons, had felt 
 the influence of these holy sisters, while they little 
 knew from whence it emanated, till they were 
 gone. 
 
 But the person who most deeply impressed my 
 childish mind, was my aged cousin Sampson Lloyd. 
 He was at that time probably more than seventy. 
 His temperament was very sanguine, and when 
 young he must have been exceedingly susceptible to 
 all objects of taste and feeling : but now, his hair was 
 snowy white, and his form bowed, as he sat at Meeting. 
 His countenance bore traces of conflicts long past, in 
 a heart and mind that could have felt exquisitely, and 
 that had been deeply torn. I never shall forget the 
 beaming expression of his eye, not unmingled with 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMxUELPENNINCK. 187 
 
 compassion, with which he looked on all, especially 
 the young. Truly, he seemed like Moses who had 
 been on the Mount, and who descended, with the 
 glory still in his countenance, to bless his people. 
 Happy was that week, when I had the good fortune 
 to receive a kind word from him as he went out of 
 the Meeting. He was called " St. John," and he ex- 
 actly realised the image of that beloved apostle in 
 his extreme age, as he said, " Little children, love 
 one another," a short sentence of tranquil wisdom, 
 pronounced through deep experience of the life of 
 Christ. One afternoon when he was sitting with 
 Lizzie Forster and Susanna Bradley, they entered 
 into a conversation, the beginning of which I did not 
 heed. I think, from what followed, that he and his 
 two companions had been speaking of some young 
 person whose friendship or affections were excessive 
 or misplaced. I will venture to paraphrase my 
 recollections of the narrative he then gave, the 
 facts of which I have since frequently heard re- 
 ferred to. 
 
 " Aged people," said my cousin, a often condemn 
 the loving enthusiasm of the young, but they forget 
 that love is originally of God. How often does 
 God in mercy use human affection in all its disci- 
 pline, its teachings, and its chastenings, to bring the 
 heart to Himself. No one, I believe, could take 
 more pleasure in outward objects and delights than I 
 
188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 did when I was a boy ; all that was beautiful or gay, 
 pleasurable or pathetic, alike transported me. In 
 vain did my pious parents, venerated though they 
 were, endeavour to moderate my course : it seemed 
 impossible to resist the intoxication to which I was 
 subject. There are chambers in my past life I never 
 reopen, though I allude to them now to speak of the 
 mercies of God. I was particularly delighted with 
 the society of beautiful and accomplished women, but 
 amongst them was one who soon fixed my especial 
 attention, as indeed whose gaze did she not fix ? 
 Her name was Betsy Fido ; you have no doubt 
 heard of her. She was beautiful, but it was that 
 beauty which is never thought of as such, because 
 the outward form seems but a transparent covering to 
 the soul. She was accomplished, but I never recol- 
 lected that she possessed accomplishments ; for her 
 singing, her music, her recitation of poetry, and her 
 eloquent speaking, seemed but the natural language 
 of her heart. All that she said sparkled with intel- 
 ligence, and wit, and kindliness. She passed before 
 my eyes like a splendid vision, and thenceforth I had 
 no light but in seeking the light of her countenance ; 
 all that I had hitherto called enjoyment ceased to be 
 such, and I sought those higher pleasures which refine 
 the heart and the imagination. Betsy Fido was 
 some years older than myself. I earnestly sought 
 thenceforth to acquire that character which would 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 189 
 
 make me less unworthy even of her friendship, but 
 ah ! how different were the views of my Heavenly 
 Father from my own. Sore misfortune fell upon 
 the object of my idolatry ; first, was the wreck of 
 her fortune, but that was little ; she continued to 
 devote herself to the solace of her family : then 
 came a fell contagious disease ; they were all swept 
 away, she alone remained — broken in health ; her 
 fine imagination, which had so often delighted me, 
 now turned upon itself, and preyed upon her mind, 
 which sank with it. She became for a time an 
 inmate of an asylum for those so stricken. Such 
 asylums were not then what they are now. In that 
 lonely cell with its whitewashed walls and barred 
 windows, God had mercy upon her ; there the first 
 beam of light broke in upon her soul. Then arose 
 before her that word which she had once heard from 
 the lips of John Woolman, ' Think, O my soul, 
 of the quietude of that heart in which Christ truly 
 reigns; and, in all thou dost, seek thou after it.' 
 Long was darkness around her. In the deep pro- 
 stration of her soul she looked around, and all 
 she knew, and all her views of right, and all her 
 powers of mind, seemed utterly without help in them. 
 In herself was no help. She thus lay prostrate in 
 body and mind ; then she raised her eyes, and 
 met that Eye of Mercy which was looking upon her. 
 I have heard her tell how that first beam was as the 
 
190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 early ray of the morning, after the darkest night, as 
 the first breath of the spring after a freezing winter, 
 like the sound of faint and distant music wafted on 
 a soft breeze over the desert ; she did not then pro- 
 bably recur to the language of the Psalmist, or she 
 would have compared it to the distant echo of the 
 far-off cymbal, telling the parched and thirsty tra- 
 veller that the Living Water was near, and its foun- 
 tain opened. 
 
 " Gradually her heart received the heavenly mes- 
 sage. In solitude, and away from human influence, 
 not only was her health restored, though she re- 
 mained feeble ; but from the conviction of the heart, 
 she returned to the usages of the Friends, and as- 
 sumed their garb, and this, she has told me, not 
 from adopting a rule, but because each of their 
 practices was the exactly suitable channel in which 
 the teaching of her spirit found utterance. Some 
 years had passed over. From a boy I was become 
 a man ; from a son dependent on his father, I had 
 entered into possession of an independent and 
 honourable position. I knew her deep affliction, 
 and I longed to be her helper ; and though, in pro- 
 found respect, I felt the distance greater than ever 
 between us, yet I knew there was but one title 
 under which a young man could acquire a right to 
 be the efficient help and protector of a still young 
 and beautiful woman. My heart faltered, yet I 
 
MARY AXXE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 191 
 
 determined to see her, and learn what form that vision 
 which I had never yet dared to behold in connection 
 with myself, would assume. When I came to the 
 door of the small cottage in which she then lived, 
 and looked on the beauty of the little garden and its 
 flowers, I still recognised the same hand of taste and 
 beauty, and felt as if my die would be cast when I 
 looked on them next when quitting the house. 
 
 " I was ushered into a little parlour ; I found my- 
 self alone : I had time to observe the neatness and 
 delicacy, but the perfect plainness and simplicity of 
 all around, when the door opened, and the one vision 
 of brightness that my heart had ever known, ap- 
 peared, — but oh! how altered ! What a change had 
 passed over her ! The elegant taste of her dress 
 was exchanged for the delicacy of Christian sim- 
 plicity ; in her eyes, which had once been playful 
 with wit and kindly brilliance, was now the ex- 
 pression of peace, yet that peace of a deep inward 
 life, constantly varying in lustre, or mantling the 
 complexion with shades of thought and feeling. 
 Truly a change had passed over her. If my natural 
 reverence for her had been increased by her mis- 
 fortunes, now it was as the holy reverence we feel 
 for one to whom we see that God has spoken, and 
 by whom His voice has been heard. She had, 
 indeed, passed as it were through a bitter death 
 since I had seen her: she had entered it in the 
 
192 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 beauty of naturalism ; she had risen from it in the 
 beauty of spiritualism. I was silent, and I believe 
 I should have gone away without opening my lips 
 on the subject for which I expressly came, bat for 
 the thought that I might still be her helper and 
 support, and her restorer to that wide field of bless- 
 ing she had so well adorned. 
 
 "With great effort to myself, I tried to begin, but 
 in a few words she checked my proceeding. She 
 said that she had tasted the sweetness of converse 
 with heaven in the deepest of human calamities, and 
 though she cordially and gratefully thanked me, she 
 felt thenceforth unfit for earthly things, and she 
 looked for happiness alone in her heavenly home ; 
 that she had found the peace of God all-sufficient, 
 and she would not exchange it for anything this 
 earth could give. She then with much kindness and 
 affection told me, that she should best testify her 
 deep sense of the sympathy I had shown her, by 
 endeavouring to point out to me the same inestim- 
 able treasure which she had herself found, by leading 
 me to the same Good Shepherd who had taken care 
 of her ; and she asked me to sit down by her, and 
 have a heart's conversation, as of two friends called 
 by the same grace, traversing the same ocean of life, 
 and bound to the same port. I did sit down : long 
 and deeply we conversed ; how long I cannot tell, 
 for it was morning when I entered, and the sun was 
 
MARY ANNE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 193 
 
 fast declining when I took my leave. The parti- 
 culars of what was said I know not, but never, 
 never w r ill the impression go from my heart. I felt 
 that she had indeed heard the voice, the potent 
 voice of Him who calls the sleeper in the grave to 
 come forth, and who is Himself the resurrection and 
 the life ; and I felt, though yet on earth, she had 
 her portion in a true spiritual resurrection, where 
 they think not of marrying nor of giving in marriage, 
 but are like the angels of God. The impression of 
 that hour was the turning point of my life. I en- 
 tered that room admiring a woman ; I departed from 
 it in deep communion with an angelic spirit. I 
 closed the door of the house ; I looked again at the 
 flowers, I had entered the house with a bright 
 vision before me ; it had passed away ; and though I 
 never had the temerity to give it a different shape, I 
 felt the one hope of my life, its one inspiring motive, 
 w T as for ever gone. But then, yes, even then, I also 
 felt that a seed had been dropped into my heart full 
 of vitality, even the seed of the Kingdom, the 
 manna from heaven, which would thenceforth grow 
 and germinate, and which, I was enabled to hope, 
 might not only issue in life eternal, but was so even 
 then, fur ' he who believes hath everlasting life.' 
 I have reason to say, ( How good is a word spoken 
 in season : it is like an apple of gold, seen through 
 a network of silver.' 
 
 VOL. I. O 
 
194 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 " How little did I think, when in my blind though 
 affectionate zeal I went to offer an earthly home to 
 this stricken one, that she had a home far better than 
 any I could give her, and that she would be the 
 means of showing me an everlasting home, and of 
 clearing the way for the building in my soul of 
 1 a house of God, not made with hands, eternal in 
 the heavens.' Oh ! the good we do is not in pro- 
 portion to our dispensing earthly, but heavenly trea- 
 sures. And now, my friends, think not lightly of 
 earthly love, or the love of youth, for our Lord by 
 His divine alchemy can change it into gold, and 
 make it a stepping-stone to the riches of His grace." 
 
 Such was, in substance, my aged cousin's narra- 
 tive. I seem yet to see him, and look upon his 
 venerable and loving countenance, his white hair, 
 and the tears streaming down his cheeks as he spoke, 
 — tears such as I had never seen before, for they 
 seemed to tell of mingled affection, gratitude, and 
 peaceful joy. 
 
 When he had done speaking, I felt so absorbed 
 by what I had heard, that some time elapsed before 
 I returned to a distinct consciousness of myself. 
 AY hen I did, I felt as though my soul were knit to 
 this a^ed man : it was the first time I had seen a 
 loving heart fully exhibited ; I seemed to under- 
 stand it, and to cling to it. 
 
 My cousin Sampson Lloyd resided at a place 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 195 
 
 called " The Farm," about two miles from Birming- 
 ham. Some years after the events here narrated, 
 he married, and amongst his children I found in 
 future years one of the most precious friends of my 
 life. 
 
 Very different from my cousin Sampson was his 
 half-brother Charles, perhaps some thirty years 
 younger. He, too, was a man of remarkable cha- 
 racter. Whilst my cousin Sampson drew forth the 
 religious affections, the conversation of his brother 
 tended to establish religious foundations. I have often 
 thought how great is the blessing of associating both 
 with those who possess the inspiration of the Spirit 
 of Love, and also with those who are in the habit of 
 accurately defining and strictly applying truth. It 
 is good to have not only a loving spirit, but a sharp 
 and definite outline of truth. In this my cousin 
 Charles Lloyd was remarkable. His wife was the 
 daughter of my venerable great-aunt Farmer. They 
 lived in Birmingham. They had a large family 
 of twelve children, some of whom I knew intimately 
 as I grew up, and some of whom have been dis- 
 tinguished for talent and piety. 
 
 My aged great-aunt Farmer stands prominently 
 depicted in my remembrance. I have understood 
 that in her early youth, she had been amongst the 
 gayest of the gay, and the most worldly of the 
 worldly, so far as comported with high respectability. 
 
196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Her mind was shrewd, firm, and strong ; her objects 
 were those which by the intelligent part of the 
 world were highly prized, and her judgment was 
 much looked up to, independently of the facility 
 with which the world always congregates round 
 those whose homes are distinguished by opulence, 
 elegance, and intelligence. Her heart, I have heard, 
 was once inflated by the consciousness of her own 
 superiority ; her word was law to her circle. She 
 was as a beautiful vision, reflecting splendid colours 
 to the many below, who looked up to her, but it 
 pleased God in mercy to touch this bubble, and it 
 burst. I know not her history, but my earliest re- 
 collection of her is that of the plainest among Friends, 
 very aged, with great dignity of manner, marked by 
 good sense, simplicity, and perhaps severity, tem- 
 pered with kindness. As a little child, T well re- 
 member how I always felt for her a degree of real 
 confidence, though not unmingled with fear. When- 
 ever she spoke, I involuntarily listened, for I felt 
 sure that, if it were on a moral subject, some founda- 
 tion would be cleared, — if it were intellectual, some 
 light would be eliminated. 
 
 And thus it is our Heavenly Father in His good 
 providence sends us blessings sometimes by one, some- 
 times by another and very differently gifted servant. 
 Let us remember there were twelve distinct tribes 
 in Israel, each bearing a different standard, each 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 197 
 
 inheriting: a different blessing ; nor could he who be- 
 longed to one, transfer himself to another ; yet all 
 formed one army, all looked to one sacrifice of atone- 
 ment ; all had the same ark, over which was the same 
 mercy seat, in which was laid up the same holy law, 
 the same sweet manna of promise, and the rod of 
 the same High Priest; and while each stood in his own 
 division, all were united in one great body under one 
 Lawgiver and one Captain of their salvation. 
 
 Our blessed Lord made the multitude that followed 
 Him through the desert sit down in their respective 
 companies, and the same food which had one blessing 
 and consecration from Him was divided by twelve 
 disciples amongst the various companies, and each 
 company seems to have had enough and to spare, 
 for there were twelve baskets left, one to each 
 different disciple. Again, our Lord says, " In my 
 Father's house are many mansions." 
 
 In the temple, which probably was the outward 
 house referred to, there were above a hundred different 
 apartments, each having its distinct appropriation, 
 uses, and privileges. O may we, then, rejoice in 
 Him, and rejoice in each other ; value as most pre- 
 cious His gift to us, without thinking that less 
 precious which His wisdom has bestowed as more 
 appropriate to another. Only let it be our concern 
 that we be indeed of the trees of righteousness, 
 whose twelve manner of fruits our Lord has equally 
 o 3 
 
193 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 recognised; that we be planted by the rivers of 
 water, that each may bear its own fruit in its 
 season, that our leaf may not wither, but that it may 
 rather be for the healing of those around us. 
 
 One more person I will mention, who was likewise 
 a frequent visitor at my grandfather's. Her name 
 was Mary Capper. This lady was the daughter of 
 parents in the English Church. They were truly re- 
 ligious, and I think her father was a clergyman, but 
 they did not live in times like the present, in which 
 persons are so often intent, not merely on cultivating 
 their own garden, that it may bring forth abundantly, 
 but in which much time and labour is employed in 
 weaving thorns and quick-set hedges, to divide it 
 from their neighbours. How it happened I know 
 not, but this excellent person, Mary Capper, was 
 placed by her friends for education in a convent in 
 France, with a view to perfect herself in the French 
 language and embroidery. The nuns were excellent 
 persons, but they were devoted to their Church. 
 They spared no pains to set before her its impressive 
 ecclesiastical observances ; they furnished her with 
 lives of their most eminent saints, and placed before 
 her instances of holy and devoted piety. All this 
 Mary Capper deeply felt ; her heart acknowledged 
 many whom they introduced to her as really taught 
 of God, many of their rites and ceremonies as insti- 
 tuted to His honour, and through which she could 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 199 
 
 not doubt the hearts of many had found a ready and 
 spontaneous utterance ; nay, her own had often found 
 utterance in her necessary attendance on these reli- 
 gious services. But then she also recollected the re- 
 ligious devotedness of her parents in another branch 
 of the Church of Christ, and the true dedication of 
 heart of many who had never heard of the dogmas, nor 
 imagined the impressive ceremonial of the Church of 
 Rome, and she had the internal experience, that she 
 had found a blessing in both Churches. It then sug- 
 gested itself, Does not the truth lie still deeper than 
 either, and is it not self-subsistent and independent of 
 both, a life of which all forms are but the changeful 
 garment ? This was a key unlocking many an intri- 
 cate passage. The end was, that she simplified in 
 every thing more and more. She then met with the 
 works of Madame Guyon. By degrees she gave up 
 ceremonial worldly habits, and worldly dress, and 
 her exterior as well as interior became, step by step, 
 widely different from those around her, while she 
 became more closely united to them in spirit. Her 
 education finished, she finally became a Friend, and 
 a most blessed member of their body ; most blessed 
 in her ministrations to those who heard her, but yet 
 more so to those who could study her devoted course 
 in daily life. Her dress was as plain as it was pos- 
 sible to be ; all her clothes were of the coarsest ma- 
 terial, and she wore the little flat beaver hat, and 
 
 O 4 
 
200 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 black silk hood, then worn by the plainest Friends. 
 Her income, I have been told, did not exceed forty 
 or fifty pounds a year ; nevertheless, she was an 
 eminent benefactress in the large congregation to 
 which she belonged. How often, when the mother of 
 a family was ill or from home, did she feel that her 
 temporary absence might rather be a blessing than a 
 loss, if Mary Capper would supply her place, and 
 manage her domestic concerns, and superintend the 
 education of her children ; and Mary Capper possessed 
 the education as well as the piety which rendered her 
 visits a true blessing to many. In the same way she 
 often paid long visits to minister to invalids, and 
 therefore did I use the expression, that she was a 
 permanent blessing in her congregation, for she sup- 
 plied a place which none other less gifted could 
 fill. Another way in which she was highly useful 
 was in directing the education of orphans in that class 
 of society who needed instruction in order to become 
 teachers. How often, too, was her clear head and 
 unwearied patience useful to the widows of shop- 
 keepers and others, in disentangling accounts and in- 
 tricate affairs, and in helping them to conduct their 
 business. Nor was the practical knowledge of me- 
 dicine and dexterity of finger in needlework, which 
 she acquired with the nuns, less a blessing to the 
 poor. I have mentioned these particulars at length, 
 because it is blessed to record an example, how with 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 201 
 
 little means great things may be effected, and how 
 when there is a Avill consecrated to the Lord, ways 
 will open to serve Him. 
 
 To return to Barr. My dear mother this year 
 changed her room, and occupied one which looked on 
 a different view, and I was then invited for a time to 
 sleep in a little dressing-room adjoining. I went to 
 bed long before my mother, but it was a great plea- 
 sure to me in the morning, almost always to find 
 something pinned up at the head of my bed, on the 
 dimity curtain, showing that she had remembered me 
 as she passed through my room ; sometimes it was a 
 short passage for me to learn, either from Scripture 
 or Milton, often a little paper of gooseberries, and 
 sometimes a few pencil lines, to invite me when I got 
 up, instead of going to Mademoiselle, to meet her at 
 six o'clock at the hall door, and be her companion in 
 her morning walk. It was in the month of May, I 
 remember, that I had these happy hours. She walked 
 very slowly, and on such occasions I always carried 
 a little magnifying glass, and an insect box. Then 
 we used to wander cither into the garden, or into 
 the woods, and while she sat down on the trunk of 
 some fallen tree, or on one of the rustic seats which 
 were everywhere around, she sent me to look out for 
 a plant or insect, while she read some poet iirEnglish, 
 Latin, or Italian ; and when I returned from my 
 search, she would lay down her book, and with the 
 
202 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 help of the magnifying glass unfold to me many 
 wonders of vegetable or animal life. I now remem- 
 ber, with much thankfulness how careful she was to 
 point out that every thing which in nature appears a 
 beauty has a real use, and that the attainment of 
 beauty never seems to be the main object, but is 
 always the result of an exquisite adaptation of uses. 
 How closely are intellectual and moral truths asso- 
 ciated ! My mother showed me in the colouring of 
 the sky, the trees, and the fields, that the pleasure 
 they afford to the mind results partly from their 
 purity, which is associated with purity of mind and 
 health of body, and partly from their colouring being 
 best adapted for the eye to rest on ; and especially 
 she took care to show me that every want of the 
 very least creature is provided for as perfectly as 
 if that were the only want in the universe. One day 
 she showed me under a magnifying glass the wings of 
 a midge, the perfectness of its nervure, its transparent 
 and its silky texture, reflecting in its speck-like 
 dimensions every tint of the rainbow ; and long 
 before Dr. Chalmers's Astronomical Sermons were 
 published, my dear mother had shown me how the 
 greatness of God is manifest, both in the illimitable 
 vastness of His creation, in which unnumbered stars 
 thread their ceaseless orbits with unerring preci- 
 sion through the immensity of space, and by the 
 faultless perfection of every atom, of which that 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNIXCK. 203 
 
 universe is composed. " This," she said, " is great- 
 ness, but the truest greatness of all is, that every 
 instance of this power was put forth by love." Thus 
 spoke my dear mother in my early childhood, but it 
 was not till many years after, that another voice un- 
 folded to me the still more stupendous instance of 
 His greatness, that inverse miracle, by which the 
 same stupendous power, instead of putting forth, 
 concentred its manifestations, and as the crowning 
 miracle both of love and power, vouchsafed to take 
 our nature and bear our sorrows, and to shroud the 
 Divine under the garb of human nature, to save that 
 world so glorious in its creation, and to purchase at 
 the price of blood each soul, and to dwell in each 
 heart of His poor creature man. " O Lord, our 
 Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth ! " 
 
 These morning walks were most sweet to me. I 
 did not at that time, as now, fully appreciate the 
 kindness with which she, who had the keenest relish 
 for works of literary taste, would interrupt her 
 reading to talk to me again and again of the trea- 
 sures of flowers and insects which I continually 
 brought to her. 
 
 Occasionally I met with some of those little 
 accidents which from time to time occur ; I was 
 stung perhaps by a wasp or ichneumon, or tore 
 myself with thorns, or jammed my fingers in a gate. 
 I was always very sensitive to pain. Never shall I 
 
204 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 cease to be obliged to my mother for the kind and 
 yet decided manner in which she exhorted me to 
 bear it. " No person," my mother said, " either 
 respects himself or knows the value of spirit above 
 matter, who willingly loses peace of mind on account 
 of pain. The spirit, where its worth is known, is 
 not easily overcome, and how can we ever serve 
 others or ourselves, or how dost thou think any great 
 or noble work that requires continuity of exertion 
 could ever be achieved, unless persons are practised 
 in the art of turning their attention from themselves 
 to what they have in hand ? Dost thou think 
 ' Homer's Iliad,' or Sir Isaac Newton's ( Principia,' 
 or even thine own favourite ' Les Veillees du 
 Chateau,' and ( Robinson Crusoe,' would ever have 
 been written, if the author had been interrupted by 
 every headache or petty annoyance that occurred? 
 Little men love self so much and so unwisely, that 
 they are interrupted by these things : great men 
 consider others as well as themselves. Remember, 
 it is a privilege to be a woman instead of a man. 
 Men, heroes, and others, do things partly to do good 
 and partly to obtain a great name ; but a woman's 
 self-denial and generosity may be as great, and often 
 greater, while it is unknown to others, and fully 
 manifest only to her own conscience and to God : to 
 work for this, and for this alone, is the highest of 
 all callings." 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 205 
 
 My cousin, Joseph Freame, and Mr. Leathes, 
 with their attendants, came to pay ns a short visit 
 this summer, and to take back my cousin, Christiana 
 Gurney. This, I was going to say, was a heart- 
 breaking, but I may rather say, an imagination- 
 breaking sorrow to me. I yet can hardly describe 
 the blank and vacancy her departure caused ; and 
 this was yet more increased by the absence of my 
 former playfellow and companion, William Priestley, 
 who had been on the continent with his uncle, Mr. 
 Wilkinson, for some months, and was now gone with 
 him to Paris, where he expected to remain some 
 months longer. 
 
 My cousin, Christiana Gurney, had spent nine 
 months with us, and in that time, while my dear 
 mother was the main-spring of my life, she had yet 
 nearly an equal influence in those minor details in 
 which my mother, since her illness, had been unable 
 to take part. 
 
 The warfare in my mind, which I have described 
 as beginning at Dawlish, continued during all these 
 months. I wondered why, if pleasing others were a 
 duty of benevolence, dissatisfaction should always 
 follow, even when my attempts had succeeded. 1 
 wondered also how it was, if I had really acted from 
 benevolence, that failure always put me out of sorts, 
 and I found nothing in my mind corresponding with 
 that ancient philosopher who, having lost his elec- 
 
206 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tion, declared that he could only rejoice that Athens 
 possessed fifty men more worthy than himself. 
 Another difficulty was, that I was constantly taught 
 to bring every thing to the test of reason, and to do 
 nothing of which my reason was not convinced, 
 w T hile at the same time I w T as instructed that it was 
 my bounden duty to obey my teachers. But when 
 their commands and my own reason disagreed, how 
 was the point to be settled, and w T here was to be 
 the appeal ? I often thought these things over, but 
 there were none whom I could question, or ask to 
 unravel my perplexities. I often said, " O that I were 
 like Theseus, and could find some Ariadne to give 
 me a - clue, whereby I might extricate myself from 
 this labyrinth : " but alas ! no Ariadne came. And 
 here I would observe, that wholly ignorant as I w r as 
 of the doctrines of Christianity, and ignorant of my 
 own heart, I yet did know there was a God, and 
 that He was a God of love, and that both by His 
 Providence and inward voice He w T ould teach those 
 who sought him ; but I did not exercise faith in the 
 very little I did know. " The just shall live by 
 faith ; " that is, by laying hold in life and love of the 
 truth really given them ; and had I, instead of per- 
 plexing my mind with innumerable reasonings and 
 doubts, and thus entangling myself in an inextri- 
 cable web, only turned to God, I feel an assurance 
 that help would have been afforded ; but I sought 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 207 
 
 self and not God, therefore did I continue in death, 
 instead of embracing life; and the tangled web which 
 surrounded me became every day more entangled 
 and more inextricable. 
 
 And yet I may here say, that I do believe that 
 every guide of yonth should not simply have it at 
 heart luminously to point out the right, and dis- 
 tinctly to exhibit the law he wishes to enforce, but 
 that he should also enter with sympathy into both the 
 mind and heart of his pupil, and endeavour to un- 
 derstand his perplexities of thought and feeling. 
 How continually from want of experience do the 
 young confound under one head, and designate by 
 one name, many things absolutely opposite in their 
 foundations, and distinct from each other, and thus 
 go on with confused and unfixed principles, because 
 they had not disentangled their integral constituents : 
 and how often a wise and sympathising friend or 
 counsellor will unravel, in a few words, complexities 
 and difficulties with which the unassisted mind may 
 have struggled for years. Still, in the midst of this 
 conflict, like most children, I had many seasons of 
 outward occupation and pursuit in which these 
 things did not press upon me, though they were 
 ever returning in my hours of solitude. 
 
 Gradually I began to resume some degree of in- 
 terest in the society that frequented Barr. My mother 
 used frequently in the summer evenings to drive 
 
208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 over and take tea with Mr. B erring-ton and his 
 
 o 
 
 sister. I occasionally accompanied her, and even 
 now I recall the pleasure with which I saw the little 
 white gate that opened into Mr. Berrington's de- 
 mesne at Oscott ! The chapel formed a wing imme- 
 diately attached to his house. The colouring of 
 both had the rich brown hue of ao;ed brick build- 
 ings; the windows, which were surrounded with 
 roses and creeping plants, glistened brightly in the sun. 
 An enclosure of two or three acres, partly shrubbery, 
 partly kitchen-garden, and partly flower-garden, 
 surrounded the dwelling ; hedges, flowers, fruit, and 
 espaliers, all in the greatest luxuriance, yet kept in 
 that trim order united with elegance, which formed 
 the especial characteristic of Mr. Berrington. Before 
 the house was an exterior porch, with neat stone seats, 
 and within, an interior one, thus forming a summer 
 and a winter porch. Here we constantly found 
 some of his people, peasants, or their wives, waiting 
 to speak to him, or to receive alms, or food, or 
 medicine, and, while resting themselves, the mothers 
 and their little children would often enjoy a plate of 
 ripe cherries or other fruit. Here we were often 
 greeted by the poor, and by his little dog " Vixen," 
 whom I especially loved, because he singled me out 
 as the only person whom he met without a bark. In 
 the little stone hall of entrance were one or two 
 Scripture pieces or prints of holy men, to give an 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 209 
 
 upward direction to the hearts of those who might 
 be waiting there, and, as it were, pour an unction 
 over all concerns of business, or pleasure, or do- 
 mestic life, on which they might be engaged. On 
 the one side was a small but comfortable dining 
 room, with a fireplace of rustic stone- work, where, 
 amidst scrolls of foliage, was engraved in old English 
 characters, — '* Melius est vocari ad olera cum chari- 
 tate, quam ad vitulum saginatum cum odio." An oak 
 staircase brightly polished led to an airy landing- 
 place ; immediately in front was a small pleasant 
 room, with a bow window, and chairs, and writing 
 table in the midst : this was Mr. Berrington's 
 library. 
 
 How well I remember, in the drawing-room, the 
 window-seats where I often used to sit and look at 
 the vines creeping over the windows ; also two or 
 three beautiful prints' of saints; but, above all, a fine 
 portrait of the Catholic Prince Charles Edward, 
 which made a great impression on me, because I 
 knew the part my great-uncle, Cameron of Lochiel, 
 had taken in his cause, and that my grandfather and 
 great-grandfather of Urie had had a full-length like- 
 ness of the Prince, before which they taught their 
 children to bow every day, especially since the cause 
 of the Stuarts, whose blood mingled with their own, 
 had been unfortunate. This picture I often contem- 
 plated, and thought how happy those were who, at 
 
 vol. i. p 
 
2io AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Falkirk and Preston Pans, and even at Culloden, 
 had laid down their lives for the cause they loved. 
 So highly did I then over estimate what men term 
 honour, and the value of an earthly crown ; and so 
 much did I underrate the actual value of a soul. 
 
 Miss Berrington's little room contained an altar- 
 like dressing-table, on which w T ere always some holy 
 books bearing on their bindings a cross, and marked 
 with registers, whose appendages, the Lamb of God, 
 the crucifix, the blessed Virgin, and the symbols of 
 faith, hope, and charity, greatly excited my interest 
 and curiosity ; and though I was not free enough to 
 ask their meaning, I exercised all my observation to 
 obtain some light on the subject; for I was sure 
 some sacred meaning was attached to them. And 
 when I looked at Miss Berrington, and observed her 
 uniform cheerfulness and apparent happiness, and 
 when I thought of my own enjoyment in reading 
 Lavater and meditating on what I learned there, I 
 wondered whether those books too contained secrets 
 of happiness, that might be poured out over the life, 
 and I then wished I knew what was in them. 
 
 There also was over the chimney-piece a beautiful 
 little print of Joan of Arc, in maidenly modesty 
 and beauty, and yet in firm calmness, going on to 
 battle. Above was a tinted drawing of her, when 
 almost a child, as she had stood under her favourite 
 fairy tree at Domremi, her eyes fixed on a rustic 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMBLPENNINCK. 211 
 
 cross, communing in spirit with her favourite saints, 
 and, yet more, with the Lord of all saints. 
 
 These prints strongly arrested my attention, partly 
 from the beauty of their execution, and partly 
 because I had just that degree of semi-knowledge 
 which enhances interest with the united pleasures of 
 memory and hope, when an object delights us by re- 
 calling something we do know, and urges us on by the 
 vivid love of exploring that which as yet we know 
 not. Thus did I stand before these pictures. 
 
 On one occasion when Miss Lunn happened to 
 come into the room, she pointed to the picture of 
 Joan of Arc on her charger, " Voila la femme forte,"' 
 she said ; " Yes," replied Miss Berrington, quietly 
 pointing to the cross in the picture above, "and 
 there was the, source from which she drew." How 
 earnestly did I wish to have these enigmatical words 
 explained. I saw, by the reverent change which 
 passed over Miss Lunn's countenance, that some 
 deep meaning was thereby intended ; I knew not 
 what, but deeply did I ponder these things in my 
 heart. 
 
 I omitted to mention that in the drawing-room was 
 a folding door which had excited my curiosity. One 
 evening, after tea, my mother asked if it led to Mr. 
 Berrington's study. Miss Berrington smiled, and 
 opened it : we entered, we found ourselves in a broad 
 tribune or gallery, looking down immediately into 
 p 2 
 
212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the Chapel. Miss Berrington knelt down and crossed 
 herself, and I involuntarily stood in silent awe before 
 the crucifix and high altar, which were directly 
 opposite to us, at the farther end of the Chapel. 
 
 I used very much to enjoy these social evenings. 
 There was in Miss Berrington a playfulness at times 
 and a sympathising kindliness of demeanour, with- 
 out ever departing from her own centre, which made 
 her society very delightful. She was eminently a 
 Christian gentlewoman. Miss Lunn, full of drollery 
 and espieglerie, had all the playfulness and pranks 
 of a kitten, and in their society there was a cer- 
 tain sort of indefinite charm, which gave a constant 
 feeling of happiness to those around them. I often 
 asked myself in what it consisted : there was no 
 grand outline, as in my mother ; no intellectual excite- 
 ment vividly to amuse; no fascination as in my cousin 
 Christiana Gurney : they seemed like persons who 
 went forth in love to others, without any return on 
 self, or any desire to produce effect ; and that be- 
 cause they had found peace, they were at liberty for 
 a hundred little sallies of playfulness, which those 
 who are unanchored in the deepest things have no 
 heart for. It is only when we are no longer captives 
 in the territories of the great enemy, that we willingly 
 take down our harps from the willows, that our 
 mouths are filled with laughter, and that we burst 
 into a song. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELFENNINCK. 213 
 
 I have often been very forcibly impressed with the 
 vast difference in the practical results of the schools 
 of religious training, of those who are brought up 
 in comparative solitude, and of those who are from 
 childhood placed in collision with others. Many 
 eminent saints have been trained in each mode of 
 discipline; but I think I have observed, among young 
 persons who were members of large families, like the 
 Gurneys of Earlham, a degree of power in the 
 pursuit of their own plans, yet without any jostling 
 against others; a flexibility, and amiablencss, and 
 brotherly kindness in the little affairs of daily life, 
 which are often vainly looked for from persons, how- 
 ever excellent, that have been brought up much 
 alone. Whatever examination such may have made 
 of their own hearts, they have not had the oppor- 
 tunity of knowing the hearts, or of entering by close 
 sympathy into the difficulties which beset the paths 
 of others, differing from them perhaps in age, posi- 
 tion, or circumstances. 
 
 I have often deeply regretted in myself the great 
 loss I have experienced from the solitude of my early 
 habits. AVe need no worse companion than our un- 
 regencrate selves, and, by living alone, a person not 
 only becomes wholly ignorant of the means of help- 
 ing his fellow-creatures, but is without the percep- 
 tion of those wants which most need help. Associa- 
 tion with others, when not on so large a scale as to 
 
 p 3 
 
214 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 make hours of retirement impossible, may be con- 
 sidered as furnishing to an individual a rich multi- 
 plied experience ; and sympathy so drawn forth, (let 
 it be remembered) though, unlike charity, it begins 
 abroad, never fails to bring back rich treasures 
 home. Association with others is useful also in 
 strengthening the character, and in enabling us, while 
 we never lose sight of our main object, to thread 
 our way wisely and well. Let any person in Cheap- 
 side compare the different mode of walking of one 
 who, from some country retreat, for the first time 
 sets foot in the closely-thronged metropolis, with the 
 easy disentangled walk of him who is accustomed to 
 thread its mazes every day : the first, probably, is as 
 intent on his business as the last, since it has stimu- 
 lated him to the unwonted exertion of putting 
 himself in a new scene ; nevertheless, he is speedily 
 bewildered by the multitudes around him; their 
 want of sympathy sinks his spirit, their jostling 
 retards him, and after much labour he is perhaps 
 unable to accomplish his object; while the other, 
 who may have a far less important end in view, is 
 able in half the time to achieve it, and neither 
 jostles against others, nor is once turned out of his 
 way himself. 
 
 Not many years ago, I met a lady, eminent for 
 talent, who was much interested in lunatic asylums. 
 She, with her husband, a scientific man, had visited 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 215 
 
 many, both in England and on the Continent. She 
 told me that, in all the asylums she visited, she found 
 that the most numerous class of patients were 
 almost always those who had been only children, and 
 whose wills, therefore, had rarely been thwarted or 
 disciplined in early life; whilst those who were 
 members of large families, and who had therefore 
 been trained in self-discipline, were far less fre- 
 quently victims to this malady. However this may 
 be, the peculiarity of what may be called a public 
 education, in giving both flexibility and persistence 
 of character, has often been to me very striking, and 
 I mention it here, because I think the subject de- 
 mands attention from those who are engaged either 
 in self-education, or in that of others. Such was our 
 mode of life at Barr. 
 
 P 4 
 
216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 1789—1792. 
 
 " Meanwhile prophetic harps 
 In every grove were ringing — War shall cease ; 
 Did ye not hear that Conquest is abjured ? 
 Bring garlands, bring forth choicest flowers to deck 
 The tree of Liberty ! 
 
 " Liberty ! 
 I worshipped thee, and find thee but a shade ! " 
 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 It was one evening in this summer, towards the end 
 of July, I well remember, the glorious sun was 
 declining behind the distant hills, and the long 
 shadows were spreading over the woods and meadows, 
 when we saw at a distance a vehicle (usually em- 
 ployed to carry servants to town or Church) return- 
 ing at more than its usual speed. After some minutes 
 the door of the drawing-room opened, and in burst 
 Harry, William Priestley's brother, a youth of sixteen 
 or seventeen, waving his hat, and crying out, 
 " Hurrah ! Liberty, Reason, brotherly love for ever ! 
 Down with kingcraft and priestcraft. The Majesty 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 217 
 
 of the People for ever ! France is free, the Bastille 
 is taken : William was there, and helping. I have 
 just got a letter from him. He has put up the 
 picture of the Bastille, and two stones from its ruins, 
 for you," (addressing himself to me,) " which you 
 will soon receive ; but come, you must hear his 
 letter." We all stood thunderstruck. After com- 
 posure was a little restored, he read an account of 
 the event. Such was the first announcement to us, 
 of the bursting of that tempest which had long been 
 gathering in France, and which finally overthrew 
 the monarchy and the church, which destroyed public 
 property, which levelled the altar with the dust, but 
 which also was the means of ruining, in its actings, the 
 earthly peace of so many thousands of private fa- 
 milies; and, in its principles, of laying low and annihi- 
 lating that Divine trust which might have proved 
 their shelter of refuge from the ruthless storm. The 
 revolution in France was to be considered not merely 
 as a political movement affecting that country only, 
 but rather as a vast experiment of which France was 
 the principal theatre. I am not now about to speak 
 of public events, with which I have nothing to do, 
 but of the effects they produced on the domestic 
 sphere with which I had experience. I have seen 
 the reception of the news of the victory of Waterloo, 
 and of the carrying of the Reform Bill, but I never 
 saw joy comparable in its vivid intensity and uni- 
 
218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 versality to that occasioned by the early promise of 
 the French revolution. It can only be explained by 
 that deeply latent heresy of the human heart which, 
 while it asserts that knowledge is power, ignores 
 that power is both fratricidal and suicidal to happi- 
 ness, till laid at the foot of the Cross, and till the 
 heart that wields it is baptized and regenerated by 
 the love of God. 
 
 How varied, in the course of time, have likewise 
 been the changes wrought in the face of society by 
 new developments and applications of intellect, for I 
 lived when steam-power, vaccination, and the electric 
 telegraph were not ; yet at the end of all, how does 
 nothing remain as an addition to happiness, but in so 
 far as it has been of God ! And how little have the 
 greatest misfortunes had of a venomed sting, when 
 the peace of God has been truly in the soul ! 
 
 Every one of the great changes which have been 
 wrought of men has been hailed by them as 
 though a new millennium were about to dawn, and 
 every political misfortune has been dreaded as 
 though an utterly crushing extinction were at hand ; 
 but how different has been the result ! The brightest 
 imaginations of fallen man have ever ended in dark- 
 ness, like a fair morning speedily overcast ; while 
 the darkest and most gloomy prospects have gradu- 
 ally brightened into light. Compare the universal 
 joy and glowing hopes which hailed the French 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 219 
 
 Revolution with the bloody night of the Reign of 
 Terror which so soon succeeded ; compare the 
 colossal power of Bonaparte with his silent tomb at 
 St. Helena. Such were the progress of man and the 
 power of man. Contrast with this that word spoken, 
 in a remote mountain of Galilee, to a few fishermen ; 
 " Preach the gospel to every creature." That eternal 
 Word was the same which had before said, " Let 
 there be light: and there was light." So is this 
 second word of power still running its course of 
 blessing, after the lapse of eighteen centuries. 
 
 I have seen the two or three originators of African 
 emancipation opposed and derided by the whole 
 world, but the word of God was with them, and it 
 did not return unto Him void, but accomplished that 
 for which He sent it. In my own time did a few 
 men originate the Bible Society, and now those 
 waters of life seem almost to overflow the habitable 
 globe. Oh, that our Lord may give us a heart to 
 be deeply penetrated by their inestimable value, and 
 to drink of them freely to the refreshment of our 
 souls ! 
 
 How has every great popular movement generally 
 begun in a real and sincere wish to rectify some 
 flagrant evil, or the accumulated abuses of ages ; 
 but how, in its progress, unless the leader — yea, and 
 every individual enlisted under him — continue to 
 take counsel of Divine truth and wisdom, are their 
 
220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ranks soon filled up by successors of a very different 
 stamp, and the original object which once so dazzled 
 the view becomes wholly clouded or merged in 
 darkness. 
 
 Thus did the real and deep corruptions of the 
 Church of Rome call forth the Reformation, and 
 thus did the early reformers soon find themselves 
 overwhelmed by the blind fury of those who profes- 
 sedly set out as their partisans. Were the causes of 
 Luther and Calvin most injured by the popes whom 
 they opposed, or by the fury of the Anabaptists and 
 other lawless ones, who were originally enlisted as 
 their followers? 
 
 When any great corruption becomes universal and 
 glaring, it calls for redress ; but with this the temp- 
 tation urgently arises, both to reform according to 
 our own unassisted view, and to use our own unas- 
 sisted means ; and hence it is that the dreadful ship- 
 wrecks in the times of revolution arise. In the pressure 
 of the temptation, we forget that with every tempta- 
 tion God will make a way of escape ; that He is both 
 a Counsellor and a Mighty God, He who can give 
 wisdom to discover ends and power to wield the right 
 means. How beautifully does the abolition of slavery 
 in the British dominions exhibit the power that ac- 
 complishes a work both begun and carried on in God S 
 
 But to return. Though all the consequences of 
 the French Revolution were then unimagined, the 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 221 
 
 joy its first tidings occasioned was of short duration. 
 The horrors of the 10th of August, and other suc- 
 ceeding scenes, formed a sort of dark cloud ; yet still, 
 hope was rife that however atrocious the ebullition 
 of popular fury, such would prove transient, and 
 faith in the cause was not essentially weakened. 
 
 I can look back on my surprise at the total change 
 introduced at this time in the subjects of conversa- 
 tion. Even with my father's scientific friends, 
 politics became all-absorbing ; from his philosophical 
 friends we heard continually anecdotes of the profli- 
 gacy of kings and nobles, and of the shackles imposed 
 by the privileged orders ; of the abuse of parental 
 authority, the dungeons of the Bastille, of Vincennes, 
 and of lettres de cachet. From the religious party 
 of whom Dr. Priestley was the head among us, we 
 heard of the fraud and superstition of the Roman 
 Catholic Church, the inordinate power of the priests, 
 the vast revenues of the English clergy, and the 
 grievances imposed by the Oath of Supremacy and the 
 Corporation and Test Acts, so that those who had 
 hitherto fancied themselves free, and had moved about 
 in perfect liberty, began to feel their necks galled by 
 heavy chains. Nor was it long, and especially about 
 the day of Federation, before France was universally 
 held up as an example to England. Much was said 
 of the empire of reason and benevolence, of the rights 
 of man, and of tracing things to first principles, 
 
222 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 instead of adhering, as in England, to antiquated 
 customs. Much was said of the folly of declaring 
 " the kincr can do no wronsr," of allowing him to 
 plunge nations into war, and thus to break the bonds 
 of universal love ; of the injustice of the law of pri- 
 mogeniture, and of scandalum magnatum, the privi- 
 leges of the higher orders. 
 
 All these things I eagerly listened to ; they seemed 
 to me to accord with the teaching of the New Testa- 
 ment, where we learn that all men are equal in the 
 sight of God, that all are taught by Him, &c. &c. ; 
 yet I had a deep uncontrollable feeling, that those 
 from whose lips these sentiments came, exhibited a 
 spirit wholly different from the saints of old. 
 
 Thus it was in the dawn of the French Revolution. 
 Amongst the young, during its progress, it became 
 an established maxim, that all which had stood the 
 test of experience was false and to be abandoned ; 
 and that all which was a mere chimera of speculation 
 was true, and to be followed ; that all which pro- 
 fessed to be of God was an injustice ; that all which 
 had its foundation in human impulse was certainly 
 justifiable ; that every grade of society, except the 
 lowest, was steeped in falsehood and prejudice ; and 
 that all wisdom was with the inexperienced and 
 uninstructed ; that, moreover, all the relations of life 
 established by God were mere bonds of selfishness ; 
 that marriage was a monopoly ; that parents, teachers, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 223 
 
 and the aged were to be treated with an insolent 
 contempt designed to manifest emancipation from 
 the shackles of former things. 
 
 As to all business and regular occupation, it was a 
 trammel to be cast away by a rational creature, a 
 child of reason, whose glory it was to be ever plastic 
 to the impression and exigence of the moment. 
 
 Amidst this universal intoxication, Friday, the 
 day spent w T ith my grandfather, seemed to me the 
 only sober or really happy one of the week. Then, 
 if any of those present began to speak of French 
 affairs, with that glow of enthusiasm which these so 
 universally excited, my grandfather would often 
 quickly answer, " Let us wait till we see the end ; " 
 — or Lizzie Forster would sometimes say, "Great 
 hopes are entertained of these changes, but when 
 God is not taken into the council plans w T ill fail, and 
 when He is they must succeed." If it were replied, 
 " No good can be achieved by spiritual speculation, 
 we want what is practical," my grandfather would 
 answ r er, " There is a narrow and there is a wide 
 way of knowing God. We may seek His will only 
 in His revealed word, and forget that I lis pro- 
 vidence and the physical laws of the natural world 
 are also revelations of His mind." As my grand- 
 father spoke, my heart went with him ; besides 
 which, I saw that he, and those amongst Friends 
 who were like-minded, remained in peace, whilst all 
 
224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 others who surrounded me, excepting my dear 
 mother, were in perpetual hurry and perturbation. 
 
 Yet notwithstanding, a habit was gradually formed 
 in my mind of less respect for authority and greater 
 confidence in my own opinion ; of less deference to 
 experience and more confidence in reasonings for 
 which I did not perceive I had not all the data. 
 How could I, even as a child, look up to the guid- 
 ance of those who, I plainly saw, were searching out 
 the way themselves ? Could I defer to those who 
 were conflicting in opinion with others, whose talents 
 gave them equal claim to my respect and credence ? 
 
 I think most persons are little aware of the silent 
 but irresistible testimony that permanence gives to 
 truth ; for the false is self-destructive, whereas truth 
 is self-consolidating. I have often felt that nothing, 
 perhaps, is so important to children as to be with 
 those who possess that permanence of principle which 
 can alone result from a foundation on eternal truth. 
 That which has always been the same to us, even 
 from our earliest recollections, involuntarily com- 
 mands our respect, and seems a preparation for that 
 piety and reverence which is afterwards to be trans- 
 ferred to God. To the child, the unchangeableness 
 of the parent forms a sort of eternity ; he found it 
 there at his earliest recollections, it has accompanied 
 him ever since, and it prepares his heart to look to 
 that Rock on which he will not merely seek refuge 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 225 
 
 in his childish years, but which will be his stay 
 through all the vicissitudes of life, from infancy to 
 hoary hairs, and which he learns has accompanied 
 the Church from the gates of Paradise, and will ac- 
 company her to the consummation of all things. 
 
 Amongst the changes which at that time took 
 place in the subjects of conversation, I must not 
 forget to mention, that animal magnetism, which was 
 just before at its height and exciting universal in- 
 terest, then suddenly dropped, nor was it resumed, 
 so far as I know, till forty years afterwards. As 
 men became more engrossed with the visible world, 
 and with the things of time, those questions which 
 had their beginning in the invisible world, and which 
 derived their paramount interest from the connexion 
 of spirit with matter, the boundary which separates 
 them, and the laws which regulate their action upon 
 each other, became less interesting. 
 
 The connexion between the visible and invisible 
 world is one of the greatest of all questions, and 
 it must ever remain a subject of deepest concern, 
 especially to regenerate man, — that creature distin- 
 guished not only from the brutes by his intellect, 
 but from the fallen human race by the renovation 
 of his spirit, and who, thus connected with the ani- 
 mals by his body of dust, with man by his intellect, 
 and with the Church above by his renovated spirit, 
 stands on the verge of two worlds, and must ever, 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
22G AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 therefore, be deeply interested in their bearing and 
 connexion with each other ; and I believe it is only 
 a lapse into a grosser and more material state of 
 being that can annihilate that interest. 
 
 Often at that time, as a child, I heard it said, 
 "We can no longer think of shadows, we have now 
 too many realities to occupy ns : " but, at the end of 
 sixty-five years, all those from whose lips I heard 
 the sentiment have learnt that it is the invisible 
 world which constitutes the only reality, and that 
 those pressing interests which they once conceived 
 of as vivid realities, have proved to be the passing 
 shadows. 
 
 Such was the summer of 1789. Towards the end 
 of the autumn, my cousin Priscilla Hannah Gurney, 
 sister to my cousin Christiana, paid us a visit. 
 
 The anticipation of this visit was a very great 
 pleasure to me. My cousin Priscilla was one of 
 those persons whom no one, having once seen, could 
 ever forget. The remembrance of her became en- 
 shrined in one's memory. She combined the ex- 
 pression of holiness and purity with that of the 
 greatest delicacy of perception and intelligent flexi- 
 bility both of mind and heart. Her stature was 
 small, but perfect in symmetry ; her features were 
 chiselled with exquisite delicacy ; her countenance 
 announced the deep peace and sensibility which 
 arise from a finely perceptive intellect combined 
 with placid and serene affections. She had what is 
 
MARY ANNE SCimiMELPENNINCK. 227 
 
 called a helmeted eyelid, and a beautiful and 
 serenely arched eyebrow, which contributed to the 
 devout and tranquil expression, whilst her dark 
 intelligent eyes, her well developed eyebone, and 
 beautifully formed nose, indicated at once strength 
 and acuteness of intelligence, and great delicacy of 
 taste. 
 
 Her costume was that of the strictest Friends of 
 that day. How well, I remember, her coarse stuff 
 gown contrasted with the exquisite beauty and de- 
 licacy of her hands and arms, her snow-white hand- 
 kerchief, and her little grey shawl ; her dark-brown 
 hair divided after the manner of a Gothic arch over 
 her fair forehead. Then she wore a black silk hood 
 over her cap, and over all a black beaver bonnet, in 
 the shape of a pewter plate, which was then es- 
 teemed the official dress of the gallery.* Her voice 
 was most musical and enchanting : as clearness and 
 brilliance was the characteristic of my mother's 
 voice, so sweetness and flexibility was that of my 
 cousin's. My mother's words delighted and animated 
 the mind, my cousin's descended like dew on the soul, 
 penetrating and abiding there, and after many days 
 bringing forth fruit. It was a common observation 
 w T ith those who cursorily saw her, that she wanted 
 but wings to be an angel. Such was my cousin ; 
 
 * The gallery is the particular seat which is generally occupied 
 by acknowledged ministers amongst the Society of Friends. 
 Q 2 
 
223 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 her visit to us Avas made under peculiar circum- 
 stances. 
 
 I know not if I mentioned that my cousins, 
 Christiana and Priscilla, were the daughters of my 
 aunt. Lady Watson, by her first husband, Mr. 
 Gurney. They were then nominally Friends, though 
 not strict ones. 
 
 My uncle Watson was in the habit of spending 
 the winter in town, the summer at Seagrove, and 
 the spring and autumn were generally passed at the 
 Crescent in Bath. This city was distinguished at 
 that time for its religious and literary society. 
 Amongst the most prominent were Mr., afterwards 
 the celebrated Dr. Herschell, David Hartley and his 
 sisters, and the Bowdler family. All these were 
 united in friendship with my uncle. With Mrs. 
 Francis Bowdler my cousin Priscilla formed a close 
 intimacy. She was a clever woman, had a strong 
 mind, and was thoroughly devoted to the English, 
 or what was then called the High Church. It is no 
 wonder that Priscilla, who was then under deep 
 religious impressions, turned from the mistiness of 
 most Friends' books of that day, and sought in- 
 struction from a person who appeared really devoted 
 to God, as well as perfectly grounded in the prin- 
 ciples of her faith. To Mrs. Bowdler, then, my 
 cousin turned, and under her influence joined the 
 communion of the Church of England. But my 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 229 
 
 cousin has often told me, that when she was baptized, 
 and when she received the Holy Communion, she 
 had such a deep feeling that she was merely com- 
 plying with empty ceremonies, that she could 
 scarcely refrain from leaving the Church, and casting 
 all aAvay. Surely, whatever else she had been 
 taught, she had not learnt to look to Him in the 
 baptism of water, whose Holy Triune name, if re- 
 ceived into the heart, is the source of Eternal Life. 
 Surely, though she partook of the bread and wine, 
 she did it ignorantly, " not discerning the Lord's 
 body ; " for if Christ be received, Christ within is the 
 hope of glory. 
 
 I am, however, only the narrator of what my 
 cousin herself told me. It was to the effect, that 
 being at this time without true spiritual life, she felt 
 trammelled by what appeared to her vain ceremonies, 
 while her own participation in them seemed like 
 hypocrisy and vain profession ; a lying to God that 
 was intolerable. 
 
 About this time a proposal of marriage was made 
 to her, by the possessor of one of the most noted and 
 beautiful places in England. Wearied with all she 
 had gone through, her heart seemed inclined to turn 
 to some other thing ; and I have heard that her taste, 
 and to a certain degree her affections, were so far 
 drawn forth, that she was on the point of accepting 
 her suitor. When all seemed nearly concluded, it 
 
 Q 3 
 
230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 suddenly came into her mind, " Shall I bind myself 
 to man, while I am ignorant what is my real tie to 
 God?" She at once changed her course, dismissed 
 her admirer, threw off her profession of belonging to 
 the English Church, and determined, whatever the 
 consequences, that she would take no rest in any 
 thing till God should lift up upon her the light of 
 His countenance, and show His will respecting her. 
 That day there was a large and splendid party at the 
 house. I have heard, from one who was present, 
 that my cousin Priscilla's appearance was radiant in 
 beauty and elegant in fashion, so as to rivet the eyes 
 of all ; it seemed as if she alone were seen. From 
 that party she went up into her room, locked her 
 door, and casting herself prostrate before God, in the 
 despair of her heart made a sort of vow that she 
 would never leave that room till she had obtained 
 some light upon her path. Into the conflict which 
 followed it is not for me to enter. Suffice it to say 
 that, at the end of several days, she came out of her 
 room in the attire of a plain Friend : peace was upon 
 her countenance, stability and serenity were in her 
 manner. The habitual presence of a plain Friend 
 would have been an anomaly in the circle of my 
 uncle Watson, and, cordially united though they 
 were, such a position would have involved trial to 
 my cousin herself. It was therefore arranged that 
 it would be best for her to select a home amongst 
 
.MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 231 
 
 her many attached friends, who had been long walk- 
 ing in the path she had now chosen. I am nut 
 acquainted with all the circumstances which decided 
 that home to be in the house of Richard Reynolds, 
 whose noble philanthropy and princely affluence 
 made him well known as the munificent, yet humble 
 Christian benefactor of every vicinity in which his 
 abode was cast. He was at that time residing in 
 the beautiful valley of the Severn, in Coalbrook 
 Dale. The large iron-works carried on there, where 
 the roaring of the blast furnaces, the long beds of 
 glowing coke, the jets of flame and showers of 
 sparks, and the stalwart forms of the various forge- 
 men, mingled with the woods, the rocks, and caverns, 
 or reflected in the broad waters of the Severn, gave 
 it a peculiarity of appearance which I have never 
 seen elsewhere. Nor were its moral less distin- 
 guished than its physical peculiarities. The beautiful 
 village of Madeley, the abode of the holy William 
 Fletcher and of his equally remarkable wife, was 
 only about a mile distant from the Dale. The 
 clergyman of the parish was a devout and assiduous 
 pastor of his flock, and all the firm of partners in the 
 well-known company of Coalbrook Dale, with their 
 families, were amongst the most strict, and excellent, 
 and beneficent members of the Society of Friends. 
 Perfect unanimity reigned amongst them : each and 
 all seemed, before all other interests, to have it at 
 
 Q 4 
 
232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 heart to further the kingdom of Christ by self-con- 
 secration to God, and brotherly love. 
 
 Continually were the Friends to be seen with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Fletcher, supporting their schools, and con- 
 tinually did the Methodists and Madeley party attend 
 any distinguished meeting amongst them. Truly 
 was it said that this populous and picturesque valley 
 was a <c school of prophets " and a land of saints. 
 Alas ! that we may now write upon it the pathetic 
 motto of the house of Bruce, — " Fuimus." 
 
 In this happy valley, Richard Reynolds occupied 
 the principal mansion. My cousin Priscilla was on 
 terms of intimate friendship with him and his wife, 
 and they gladly made an arrangement to receive her 
 at their house as her future home. She had her 
 sitting-room and bed-room, and one adjoining for her 
 little maid Joan, — a stable for her horse " Serena," 
 and her open carriage, in which she used often to 
 drive about to visit the poor and enjoy the country. 
 Besides this, Richard Reynolds and his wife formed 
 for her what Catholics would call a Solitude, a walk 
 through a thick grove which terminated in a verdant 
 open space, where was a rill and cascade falling 
 through the rocks into the river below : here was a 
 sort of open summer-house, and behind it were two 
 more substantial rooms, one of which was furnished 
 with books, writing materials, and everything suitable 
 for contemplation or solitary employment : the other 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 233 
 
 was a little apartment in which Joan was ensconced 
 with her book and her needle, when her presence 
 was not needed by her mistress. 
 
 Such was the principal home of my cousin 
 Priscilla Gurney. She continued her residence with 
 her fatherly friend Richard Reynolds, for the long 
 period of more than twenty years. My cousin came 
 to visit us, when on her way from Seagrove to her 
 new home. All the mental conflict she had endured 
 for several years had abundantly told upon her 
 sensitive and delicate frame. She was considered at 
 this time in a very precarious state of health, and 
 seemed wholly unfit to cope with the difficulty, or 
 rather with the apprehension, of a home as yet un- 
 tried. 
 
 My dear mother, who had been an intimate friend 
 of her early youth, urged her to stay a few weeks 
 with us at Barr, for rest, and for the benefit of Dr. 
 Darwin's advice. I have no distinct continuous re- 
 collection of this time : some few pictures stand out 
 prominently, and have left their indelible impression 
 on my memory. How well I remember my cousin's 
 arrival ! It was a beautiful summer afternoon, when, 
 emerging from the turn of the wooded valley, where 
 the road was first visible from the house, we saw a 
 "Friendly" drab-coloured one-horse chaise, slowly 
 advancing. Preceding it, mounted on a tall gaunt 
 horse, sat a figure, likewise tall, and clothed in 
 
234 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 drab : his large slouched hat seemed raised high 
 above the ample coat, with its deep napping pockets; 
 the huge shoes were surmounted by buckles; the 
 long stiff back seemed without vertebra. This was a 
 guide, sent by the monthly meeting to show my cousin 
 her way. An unmitigated solemnity overspread his 
 features. Next followed my dear cousin's little 
 carriage, in the most approved mode of " Friendli- 
 ness," but yet modified by her own elegance. Her 
 little horse, Serena, was beautiful, and I well re- 
 collect its docility and tameness. From this carriage 
 alighted my cousin Priscilla, her exquisite beauty 
 attracting every eye, and her little maid Joan, a 
 bright country girl, whose rosy cheeks, and a certain 
 espieglerie in her dark eyes, formed as striking a 
 contrast to her plain Friend's dress as her bright 
 complexion did to the marble delicacy of that of her 
 mistress. My dear cousin was very ill, and she 
 was taken directly to her own apartment, which she 
 mostly inhabited during her sojourn with us. 
 
 One day my mother sent me to her room with a 
 basket of fruit and a message. Her apartments on 
 this occasion were in what we often called "the 
 Catholic quarter" of our house, because so often 
 used by Catholics. They were the same which a 
 few months before had been occupied by our friend 
 Miss Berrington, to whom I had also once been sent 
 on a message ; and the contrast between the scenes 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIlMMELrENNINCIv. 233 
 
 presented by the rooms and their occupants on the 
 two occasions forcibly struck me. When I went 
 with no small awe to Miss Berrington, I saw on her 
 dressing-table, Missals, the " Imitation/' and other 
 devotional works on one side ; the Peerage and Court 
 Calendar, and the looking-glass on the other: but 
 the latter books appeared new, as if seldom opened, 
 whilst the former, though perfectly well and re- 
 verently kept, looked as if used daily. There were 
 on the same table essences and various powders, and 
 artificial flowers, the usual accompaniments of dress 
 in that day : but there also stood scales to weigh 
 medicines for the poor, a crucifix, and beads. Before 
 the table, in her easy chair, sat Miss Berrington, 
 her figure tall and elegant, her dress gay and 
 tasteful, and her manner kind, yet brilliant with 
 finished politeness : there she sat in all the adorn- 
 ment which I had learnt to consider as a thins; of the 
 world, but her table and often the floor were 
 covered with work for the poor, which all her solitary 
 hours were occupied in completing ; and whilst her 
 conversation was full of wit and mirth and anec- 
 dotes of the great world, the early morning be- 
 held her solitary walks to attend the little chapel at 
 Oscott, or to visit and cheer the sick and needy. 
 
 When the same apartment was occupied by my 
 cousin Priscilla, it had undergone a complete trans- 
 formation. The looking-glass was banished, and on 
 
236 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the table were the works of the venerable Isaac 
 Pennington, whose memory, with that of the legis- 
 lator Penn, and the genius of Milton, have con- 
 secrated the little village of Chalfont. Few have 
 probably read these books which my cousin loved so 
 well, without a blessing, and without drawing nearer 
 in soul to that God who was the bond of union in 
 that blessed society. But, above all, you ever saw 
 with her the Holy Scriptures open, and on entering 
 the room and looking on her countenance, it seemed 
 as though the reflection of light, and love, and calm- 
 ness from the written and inward Word, beamed 
 from that face with an impress not to be mistaken. 
 Truly, when I opened the door, I felt " This is 
 holy ground ; " and whilst I thought myself at an 
 unutterable distance from her, I was elevated in 
 spirit, as we always are in the presence of the 
 greatness which is of God, in contradistinction to 
 that which is of the world. There my cousin 
 Priscilla was sitting, engaged in reading, or in holy 
 meditation, and sometimes in speaking to her little 
 maid Joan. It was beautiful to watch her loving- 
 ness, and yet the dignity of my cousin's manner 
 towards her, partaking of the authority of the mis- 
 tress, the tender care of the mother, and the for- 
 bearance of the Christian, whilst the little maid 
 herself, with her rosy cheeks and beaming black 
 eyes, looked up to her mistress with a reverent and 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 237 
 
 affiant love, as though she were listening to a being 
 from another sphere. Nor were these the only 
 inmates of the room. In one cage was the little 
 squirrel " Ariel," and in another two canary birds, 
 with a tree for them to j)erch upon. All the doors 
 of the cages were open, and the inmates constantly 
 came to my dear cousin in the midst of her reading, 
 perching on her head or hand, to be fed with nuts or 
 sugar. 
 
 I have often since thought, how happy are those 
 whose love, like the anointing oil, overflows from 
 Him who is the Head, even to the extreme fringes 
 of the garment, so as to be exhibited, not merely 
 amongst men, but down to the very animals. Thus 
 St. Francis of Assisi was wont to gather around 
 him the fawns, and birds, and hares of the forest, 
 calling them his " brothers and sisters ; " and as he 
 knew that God blessed them when they came from 
 His creating hand, so did he delight in standing, as 
 it were, a priest appointed by God in the Temple of 
 Creation, to utter the voice of thanksgiving for 
 them to the Father whom they knew not. 
 
 One other picture I will recall. It was a scene 
 in the drawing-room. My cousin had been con- 
 sulting Dr. Darwin, and was joined there by my 
 mother and Mr. Berrington. I did not consider 
 myself, a child, as part of the company. It would 
 be impossible perhaps to select four persons of more 
 
238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 strongly marked characters, and yet more dissimilar 
 one to another. There was my mother, lofty in 
 grandeur of heart, and in philosophic dignity of 
 mind, eminent for beauty, and for a severe simpli- 
 city combined with richness of costume. Then my 
 cousin Priscilla, almost ethereal in the expression of 
 purity and holiness, her countenance continually 
 growing upon the heart of the beholder, and replete 
 with the charm which reveals a deep tranquillity in 
 eternal things, while the surface is plastic to vary- 
 ing; thought and emotion ; like the immortal music 
 of Palestrina, which flows on with one uniform soul- 
 filling harmony, the fundamental bass continuing its 
 uninterrupted stream, whilst the superficial parts 
 display endless variety, grace, and adornment. Then 
 came Mr. Berrington's lofty, aristocratic figure, his 
 intellectual and perhaps proud bearing, as he held 
 up his glass, and looked, with a slightly sarcastic and 
 yet playful air, on those around him. And I still 
 seem to see Dr. Darwin sitting on the sofa, as he 
 gazed with almost a sneer on the beauty before him, 
 beauty not merely physical, but yet more moral and 
 intellectual; and never shall I forget the contrast 
 between his figure and the fragile form of my 
 cousin, who, as his patient, sat next him; fragile, 
 indeed, she appeared, as though a breath might 
 annihilate her ; and yet there was that about her 
 which seemed as a panoply of Divine strength, and 
 
MARY ANNE SCIUMMELPENNINCK. 239 
 
 before which the shafts of Dr. Darwin's wit against 
 Divine truth, aimed cautiously at first, but after- 
 wards more openly, recoiled innocuous. " My dear 
 Madam," said he, " you have but one complaint ; it 
 is one ladies are very subject to, and it is the worst 
 of all complaints ; and that is, having a conscience. 
 Do get rid of it with all speed; few people have 
 health or strength enough to keep such a luxury, for 
 utility I cannot call it." 
 
 One of the party having expressed the hope that 
 one day he would receive Christianity, he replied, 
 " Before I do that, you Christians must all be 
 agreed. The other morning I received two parcels ; 
 one containing a work of Dr. Priestley's, proving 
 there is no spirit, the other a work by Berkeley, 
 Bishop of Cloyne, proving there is no matter. What 
 am I to believe amongst you all?" I never shall 
 forget the look with which this was said. 
 
 On another occasion during my cousin's visit, the 
 lady whom I designate as " cousin Sally," and who 
 was much attached to her, said to Dr. Darwin, 
 {( But Doctor, you will surely allow dear Priscillato 
 read religious books ? " To which the Doctor replied, 
 " My dear Madam, toss them every one into the fire. 
 I cannot permit one of them, excepting Quarlcs' 
 ' Emblems,' which may make her laugh." 
 
 After a short time, my cousin ended her visit to 
 us. Before she went, she gave me a box containing 
 
240 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 dissected portraits of the kings of England; and after 
 some remarks on the study of history, she concluded 
 by saying, " Thou and I shall never, like these kings, 
 be great or distinguished ; but we, too, shall pass 
 away like shadows, and have nothing remaining to us 
 of value but what our Lord in His mercy shall have 
 planted in our hearts. When thou lookest at these 
 portraits, may this thought often lead thee before the 
 King of kings ! " At that time, she also made me 
 a present of Gough's " History of Friends." Both 
 these gifts I ever highly prized, and many were the 
 hours which I happily spent in reading and medi- 
 tating on that book, which, dry and ill- written as it 
 is in language, is often great in thought. 
 
 My mother's health was by no means fully re- 
 established, so that in the course of that year and the 
 next Dr. Darwin frequently visited us. I cannot 
 answer for the exact period at which the incidents I 
 shall mention took place, but I give them here as they 
 occur to my memory. One observation, justice and 
 truth, with Christian charity, call upon me to make. 
 Let it be remembered that I am writing my own 
 biography, not Dr. Darwin's. I am, therefore, de- 
 scribing not his character, but the impression he made 
 upon me. The baleful impression made on my 
 principles, habits, and feelings, by intercourse with 
 that society, of which he, at that time, was the cul- 
 minating point, was too powerful to be lightly passed 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 241 
 
 over. I feel it a deep debt I owe to society to point 
 out an evil, in the effects of which I was so long 
 and wofully entangled. 
 
 When I remember how lightly many persons are 
 accustomed to speak, how lightly they allow them- 
 selves to say, colloquially, that which they would not 
 fully sanction when in earnest, I would not record 
 these painful characteristics of Dr. Darwin's conver- 
 sation were not my motive to show the great power 
 of casual influences over the minds of children, 
 whether for good or evil. 
 
 When I consider the effect of many of these 
 things on myself, I seem to understand the awful 
 warning that for every " idle word " we shall give an 
 account. By " idle," I understand the lightest word 
 which spreads evil around, however sunny or soft the 
 air that bears it, but I do not understand by it the 
 beautiful and sportive flower that gives fragrance 
 and grace to the solid rock it garlands. 
 
 Dr. Darwin often used to say, " Man is an eating 
 animal, a drinking animal, and a sleeping animal, and 
 one placed in a material world, which alone furnishes 
 all the human animal can desire. He is gifted be- 
 sides with knowing faculties, practically to explore 
 and to apply the resources of this world to his use. 
 These are realities. All else is nothing ; conscience 
 and sentiment are mere figments of the imagination. 
 Man has but five gates of knowledge, the five 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
242 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 senses ; he can know nothing but through them ; all 
 else is a vain fancy, and as for the being of a God, 
 the existence of a soul, or a world to come, who can 
 know anything about them? Depend upon it, my 
 dear madam, these are only the bugbears by which 
 men of sense govern fools ; nothing is real that is not 
 an object of sense." 
 
 As I heard these things, and remembered the high 
 esteem in which Dr. Darwin's talents were held, and 
 the respect with which his dicta were listened to, my 
 mind seemed shaken to its centre. I felt perplexed 
 and bewildered. My faith was disturbed even in the 
 little I knew. Yet I had a latent miso-ivin^ that all 
 these reasonings could not be true, and it sometimes 
 occurred to me that the electric fluid, the magnetic 
 attraction, the power of animal magnetism (then 
 much in vogue), though imponderable and unseen 
 forces, were the most powerful of agents ; and that 
 our perception of any substance depends not merely 
 upon its being obvious to our senses, but upon our 
 being gifted with those particular senses which enable 
 us to receive its impressions. If a deaf man go 
 into a ball-room, does the music cease to inspire the 
 dancers because he hears it not ? And are we not 
 constantly subject to the power and operation of 
 causes which we have not the faculties to investigate, 
 though we are sensible of their effects ? And may 
 not the being of God, the spiritual world, the immor- 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 1243 
 
 tality of the soul, be as important spiritual realities 
 to man as the equally unseen agency of the load- 
 stone and electricity are in the natural world ? Such 
 were surmises which often presented themselves to 
 my mind. 
 
 Dr. Darwin at that time was occupied in writing 
 his beautiful poem, " The Botanic Garden." The 
 second volume of this poem was published first ; he 
 preferred it to the former, and gave as a reason for 
 this order of publication, that it " was well to put the 
 best foot foremost." Great was the pleasure which 
 the perusal of the poem gave to our evenings at Barr, 
 and the absorbing charm with which I listened to its 
 brilliant and exquisitely finished music, rendered 
 alternately by the clear and flexible voice of my dear 
 mother, and the deep-toned utterance of Mr. Ber- 
 rington ; both had equal delight in it, both had their 
 favourite passages : the impression of many, though 
 at the distance of sixty years, I shall never forget. 
 The opening canto, the description of the ruins of 
 Palmyra, and that of the destruction of the army of 
 Cambyses, cannot but leave an indelible impression 
 on all who read them. 
 
 My dear mother was enthusiastic in her admira- 
 tion of Dr. Darwin's views on poetical composition. 
 They appeared to her to leave nothing to be desired ; 
 and she had exquisite poetic taste. 
 
 I cannot say, however, that I felt completely in 
 R 2 
 
244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the same manner. Yet as I bad little taste for poe- 
 try, and was a child, I made no doubt for many 
 years, but that I was mistaken, more especially as I 
 could not define the want I felt ; but in these latter 
 years of my life, I am inclined to think I was more 
 rio-lit than I supposed. Immense as was the success 
 of this poem at the time, its celebrity has now passed 
 away, and, notwithstanding its beauty, it is but little 
 read. Whence is this ? I believe it arises from an 
 universal though vague feeling similar to that which 
 I myself experienced, and which, as I have since 
 been enabled to define to my own satisfaction, I will 
 here endeavour to explain. 
 
 We may apply to all the fine arts, and equally to 
 painting, sculpture, music, architecture, and poetry, 
 the maxim, " Le beau n'est que le splendeur du vrai." 
 The highest beauty and the highest privilege of art is 
 its expression of spiritual and moral feeling. As man 
 has a threefold life, the animal, the intellectual, and 
 the spiritual, so he is susceptible of as many different 
 species of pleasure ; hence the three sources of plea- 
 surable expression in every work of art, culminating 
 in worth and beauty, from the animal, which is the 
 lowest, to the spiritual, which stands supereminent. 
 
 Those works of art, then, are the most complete 
 which not only give utterance to this threefold life, 
 but in which the higher constantly predominates, 
 the spiritual rising above the intellectual, and the 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 245 
 
 intellectual above the animal. And every work 
 of art is proportionally poor and meagre, as it 
 wants the expression of the higher lives and ex- 
 hibits only the lower, in whatever degree of perfec- 
 tion that may be. 
 
 This, I think, explains the defect of Dr. Darwin's 
 poetry. It speaks only of earth; there is every 
 tiling to fix the eye below, on what is transient and 
 mutable ; nothing to raise it above, to the permanent 
 and immutable : there is all in it to delight the eye 
 or ear, nothing to touch the well-springs of the 
 heart. It is a beautiful body, delicate, symmetrical, 
 faultless, but it is destitute of soul : it is a perfect 
 image, but without the inspiring Promethean fire : 
 it is a beautiful visible creation, but it is deaf and 
 dumb, for it hears not the voice, and gives not the 
 utterance of the invisible ; and yet that visible 
 creation was set forth to tell of the invisible ; by 
 the things that are seen, it was intended to set forth 
 the eternal power and Godhead of Him who made 
 them : the Heavens were made to declare His glory, 
 and the firmament to show forth His handy-work ; 
 and oh ! how poor the utterance, when this language 
 is not understood ! 
 
 Nevertheless, the popularity of this poem and its 
 brilliant success were at the time universal. Under 
 the specious names of philosophy, equality, universal 
 benevolence, and right reason, the age was steeped 
 
 R 3 
 
.246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 in materialism and naturalism. It seemed as if 
 the whole intelligence of man were occupied in 
 eliciting, as in the distillations of a mental alembic, 
 the recondite uses of the material world, and that his 
 imagination was steeped in Sybaritic luxury, in the 
 enjoyment, more or less refined, of sensible objects. 
 Human society and the human faculties seemed fallen 
 from their high estate ; reason no longer thought it 
 a privilege to learn her axioms at the mouth of God, 
 and man, abandoning the Centre of love and beauty 
 and holiness, revelled in the debasing elements of a 
 creation miserably despoiled by sin. 
 
 No wonder, then, that a poem precisely adapted to 
 the fallen genius of the age, should have the popu- 
 larity which seemed to spread like wildfire through 
 every class of society, and like its own magnificent 
 description of the deadly Upas of Java, seemed to 
 dwell in gigantic greatness amidst a plain of death. 
 
 I think it was many years after, that this truth was 
 brought home in vivid relief before me, in reading 
 Southey's "Roderick." How much less of harmony 
 and grace, but how magnificent in the immortal and 
 eternal truths which inspire almost every descrip- 
 tion as with a living soul ! Its great truths are 
 drawn from the Eternal fountain, and are therefore 
 endued with power truly to refresh the heart. 
 
 It so happened that Dr. Darwin paid us a visit 
 shortly after the publication of the first volume of 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPEXNINCK. 247 
 
 his work, and in the midst of its success. He told 
 us that his bookseller — I think the well-known Mr. 
 Johnson — offered him for the copyright, or for the 
 edition, (I forget which,) a sum at the rate of ten 
 shillings a line. This was said amidst our large 
 family party, our Oscott friends being present. 
 
 On another occasion, my dear mother said to him, 
 " I was much pleased, Doctor, with your magnificent 
 description of the Upas ; but I was also much sur- 
 prised, and more especially at the notes containing an 
 elaborate account of it, for I had always considered 
 what we heard of the Upas as a myth." The Doctor 
 laughingly replied, " And so do I, my dear Madam. 
 There is not one word of truth in it ; but so long as 
 I can get the public to believe me, by dint not only 
 of my own poetry, but also by the notes of my in- 
 genious friend, and as every line puts ten shillings in 
 my pocket, I shall go on ad infinitum, as haply the 
 monks of old did with their equally true saintly 
 legends." — One good effect these things had upon 
 me. They made me think that Dr. Darwin did not 
 value truth, and I hence received, from his own lips, 
 a salutary caution, and a standard by which to mea- 
 sure his dicta on other subjects. 
 
 I must, however, here in candour add one obser- 
 vation. When I retrace, in my mind, much which 
 Dr. Darwin said, the review strikes me with the 
 utmost horror and wonder. Yet there was much to 
 
 B 4 
 
248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 make the tone of his remarks then appear less extra- 
 ordinary to those who heard them. It seemed as 
 though the French Revolution had affected the whole 
 fabric of social life, and had been the occasion of a 
 sudden outburst of universal delirium, sweeping 
 away all its courtesies and decorums. 
 
 The conversations, then, of Dr. Darwin, though 
 extreme even at that time, were yet in keeping with 
 the universal spirit of the day. 
 
 I remember reading, in I know not what French 
 memoir, that in the reign of Louis XI V., the 
 Duchess de Bethune, one of the brilliant circle of 
 that court, being invited to a reunion, in which were 
 Fenelon, Madame Guy on, and the Duke and Duchess 
 de Beauvillier, was absorbed in delight at the 
 heavenly spirituality of the conversation ; but when, 
 at an early hour, her chair was announced to rejoin 
 the Court party at Versailles, she awoke up as from 
 a trance, and thought, " Surely all these good people 
 are mad ! How different are they from the realities 
 to which I am now going." 
 
 Even the excellent Dr. Priestley, in those days, 
 continually dwelt on the blessings of free inquiry 
 and the overthrow of superstition, and on the 
 coming time when all would be free to carry out 
 their own opinions, and to be occupied in the search 
 after truth, though all probably might come to a dif- 
 ferent result. Some others there were, not so devout 
 
MARY AXXE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 249 
 
 but more logical, who, taking up the matter where 
 Dr. Priestley left it, said that since no positive 
 result could be obtained, the search might as well 
 be spared ! 
 
 Child as I was at the time of the French Revolu- 
 tion, always accustomed to be with my parents and 
 present in their social circle, I was full of intense 
 interest in these things. How often, in a year or two 
 after this period, while I listened to these philo- 
 sophers, was I reminded of the tiger, which is at first 
 playful as a kitten, but which, when once it has 
 dipped its tongue in blood, assumes the glare of the 
 eye, shoots forth its talons, exchanges its kind purr 
 for a fierce growl or ominous spring, and spares 
 neither friend nor foe in its cruel onslaught. 
 
 When I think of these sad times, it has often 
 appeared to me that these philosophers were like 
 ignorant children, who expect beautiful blossoms or 
 fruit to grow if they merely stick severed steins into 
 the ground ; while my grandfather, and those who 
 thought with him, were like wise gardeners, who, 
 planting the root and leaving it to be watered by the 
 dews from Heaven, are assured that the germ which 
 contains the vital principle will grow and produce 
 its proper fruit. Blessed is he that exercises himself 
 day and night in the law of the Lord : he shall be 
 like a tree planted by the living waters, that shall 
 produce its fruit in its season, and even its leaves 
 
250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 shall not wither. His demeanour, his countenance, 
 his daily habits, and his bearing will silently speak, 
 and become the living illustration of his words and 
 the complement to his actions. How great and how 
 awful the difference in the course and the utility of 
 those who act only with a view to immediate re- 
 sults, and of those whose actions are the development 
 of principles ! And as the truth of a principle 
 remains the same whether tried on a laro;e or a 
 small scale, I believe that he acts wisely who ap- 
 plies — in the minutire of daily life, in the selection of 
 his friends, or in the examination of his own heart or 
 conduct, — the question, " Am I acting in simplicity, 
 from a germ of the Divine life within ; or am I 
 shaping my path to obtain some immediate result of 
 expediency? Am I endeavouring to compass effects, 
 amidst a tangled web of foreign influences I cannot 
 calculate; or am I seeking simply to do what is right, 
 and leaving the consequences to the good providence 
 of God ? " Truly may I say that I have ever found 
 dignity of character and peace of heart to bear an 
 exact proportion to the recognition of this principle. 
 The experience of our forefathers has been the 
 stepping-stone on which our own experience is 
 grounded. They followed their own reasonings, 
 which, alas ! formed the ignis fatuus which misled 
 them. Let us bless God for our happier lot, and let 
 us, with a reverent pity, look at the mistakes of those 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNIXCK. 231 
 
 who have preceded us, to some of whom perhaps 
 we are deeply in debt for much knowledge we may 
 have learnt from their lips, and not less deeply, per- 
 haps, for those errors which to us have proved a 
 salutary warning. 
 
 Our circle did not escape from the effects of the 
 influences described in the preceding pages. In it 
 were many whose public virtue stood high, and 
 whose intellect was pre-eminent. Yery few in that 
 circle were more distinguished for vigorous intel- 
 ligence, and for varied knowledge, than my father. 
 He was a man of the most ardent thirst for know- 
 ledge, with the single exception of Mr. Watt, that 
 I ever knew. He had an insatiable desire for 
 improvement, and a love of bringing every thing, 
 even the very least, to the standard of perfection. 
 Wh ether it were natural history, or natural phi- 
 losophy, geology, chemistry, or a magic lantern to 
 amuse his children, or weighty concerns of busi- 
 ness, one might think he had devoted his life exclu- 
 sively to that subject, so much did he excel in all 
 that he undertook ; and everything in his house and 
 grounds was characterised by his original appliances 
 and contrivances. He possessed a mind acute in 
 detail and in discerning differences, which gave him, 
 in argument and in the business of life, all the keen 
 and subtle perceptions of an able lawyer ; and which, 
 in the social circle, put into his hand the double-edged 
 
2.52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 falchion of cutting sarcasm and pungent wit. Under 
 these circumstances, it is no wonder that, with a 
 mind so intent on progression, and so keenly gifted 
 to detect a flaw wherever it existed, my father 
 should have quickly joined the ranks of those men 
 of public virtue, who hailed the French Revolution 
 as the auspicious day-star of social regeneration. 
 
 But I feel that this is the place to say a few words 
 of that part of my father's early history which has 
 been related to me ; for how much more truly can 
 we appreciate a person's course, when we know the 
 mental fatherland from which he came. I have 
 spoken of my father's intellectual endowments, and 
 I ought to add, that God had also gifted him with a 
 most kindly heart. 
 
 He was the last survivor of eis;ht children : two 
 only of his sisters were living at the time of his 
 marriage. My remembrance of my aunt Betsy is 
 like a shadow, or it may be that I only recollect 
 having heard her spoken of in my early infancy. 
 My dear aunt Polly, whose holy life I well recollect, 
 and whose memory is treasured up among my sacred 
 remembrances, I have spoken of in the beginning of 
 this memoir, and from her my very earliest religious 
 impressions were derived. She died before I was 
 six years old. 
 
 I recollect hearing my father say that, when he 
 was a child, he went for a time to the school of 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 2:3 
 
 James Fell, a Friend who lived in the neighbourhood 
 of Worcester, and whose academy was famous in his 
 da)\ In early life, my father was placed as a 
 student in the dissenting academy at Warrington, 
 which, I believe, immediately succeeded that of Dr. 
 Doddridge at Northampton. In Dr. Doddridge's 
 time the academy was a truly religious one, and the 
 strictly pious training of the Presbyterians of that 
 day, united with their teaching and habits of business, 
 gave a character to dissenting academic colleges 
 very different from that which belonged to them 
 after his death. But in all dissenting bodies, where 
 there is no fixed ritual and no determined creed, 
 whatever excellencies may at times appear, how 
 little can stability or permanence be secured ! 
 Their creed, their worship, and indeed their dog- 
 mas, must always depend more or less on the 
 personal instructors of the day. There is no stan- 
 dard of appeal ; all believe and do more or less 
 that which is right in their own eyes, and experience 
 shows that societies thus constituted have a con- 
 stantly downward progress. 
 
 Accordingly, even Dr. Doddridge's academy was, 
 before its close, more than suspected of having de- 
 parted from the integrity of its faith ; and I well 
 remember how an old grey-haired pew-opener at 
 Kidderminster, as he showed me Baxter's pulpit, 
 told me, with tears, that from that pulpit, which he 
 
254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 had known in his boyhood as the centre from which 
 life and light were diffused, were now heard cold and 
 cheerless Unitarian or perhaps Deistical principles. 
 
 At all events, the academy at Warrington was, in 
 my father's time, no longer what it had been. It 
 was eminent for talent, honour, and decorum, and, I 
 believe, for the conscientious lives of its distinguished 
 professors; and when I mention Dr. Priestley, Dr. 
 Enfield, Mr. Barbauld, Dr. Aikin, Dr. Lindsey, and 
 many others as being at its head, I need say no more 
 of its high literary and moral standard. There my 
 father spent many years ; there was his first intro- 
 duction to the intellectual world, and to that habit of 
 scientific scrutiny, that ardent spirit of free un- 
 shackled inquiry, which subjects everything to the 
 alembic of discussion and criticism. 
 
 Distinguished in many w T ays was that varied so- 
 ciety, some with enviable, some with unenviable, dis- 
 tinctions. Amongst them were the great Dr. Price, 
 I believe Dr. Currie of Liverpool, and Mr. E,oscoe. 
 Amongst them, too, was that unhappy son of the 
 saintly Lady Mary Fitzgerald, who commonly bore 
 the name of " fighting Fitzgerald," and whose un- 
 timely and awful death cast such a deep shade upon 
 his mourning; mother's heart. 
 
 Thus did my father acquire much knowledge of 
 mankind, from a wide observation of character, in 
 contact with, and under the training of those, who, 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 255 
 
 as instructors, professed to implant botli the prin- 
 ciples which should bestow the true ends of life, and 
 the knowledge by which its aims should be best 
 achieved. But my father could not fail to perceive 
 that his gifted instructors had yet no settled prin- 
 ciple amongst themselves; while they professed to 
 seek truth, they passed by the greatest of all truth, 
 and lost all religious reverence in endless specu- 
 lation. 
 
 After my father had remained some years at 
 Warrington, he returned to my grandfather's roof; 
 and his character was, doubtless, much influenced by 
 the united action of both these varied courses of 
 teaching. My grandfather's instructions were cal- 
 culated to give shrewd and keen habits of business, 
 and the love of minute order and detail; but my 
 father's insatiable thirst for knowledge made his 
 books, his laboratory, and other appliances for scien- 
 tific research, more attractive to him than general 
 society. He had a large folio blank book, in which 
 he was wont to set down stray pieces of knowledge, 
 which thus became permanent instead of fugitive. 
 Information on diet, on training, on pugilism, on 
 horses, on building, the various resistances of timber, 
 &c. &c, he noted in this book, which was entitled 
 the " Book of Knowledge ; " it was alphabetically 
 arranged, and formed many volumes. 
 
 My father, as I remember him when I was a child, 
 
256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 was usually occupied for a few hours every day at his 
 house of business in Birmingham ; but from about 
 one o'clock, when he usually returned, he was chiefly 
 engaged at home in intellectual pursuits; and of 
 these he had an endless variety. Some interesting 
 experiments which he made in optics were the 
 means, through his friends Dr. Priestley and Sir 
 Joseph Banks, of his being elected a member of the 
 Royal Society ; and his attainments in natural history 
 and botany were the cause, afterwards, of his becom- 
 ing one of the earliest members of the Linnaean 
 Society, established by his friend Sir James Edward 
 Smith. Besides this, my father possessed consider- 
 able skill in chemistry ; and he had no greater 
 pleasure, on his return every day from Birmingham, 
 than to occupy himself in the formation of his 
 botanic garden. Truly, it was impossible to be in 
 his society without deriving pleasure and benefit 
 from the variety of his knowledge and acquirements. 
 Nevertheless, my father's character, earnest and 
 impetuous, was not one of repose, and the various 
 elements of which it was composed issued in conflict 
 rather than rest. 
 
 And here let me pause to draw from these recol- 
 lections a deep lesson of instruction with regard to 
 characters constituted, like my father's, of powerful 
 and antagonistic elements. Experience has convinced 
 me that the comparative value of individual charac- 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 257 
 
 tcr, depends on the same principles which regulate 
 the value of an effective and well-ordered friendship. 
 He who selects his friend for possessing a redupli- 
 cation of his own qualities or of his own tempera- 
 ment, increases indeed the force of those qualities 
 and temperaments in volume and in power, but does 
 not add to his original resources by the introduction 
 of any new element; nor does he obtain the help 
 necessary to obviate the evils or supply the defects 
 of his own organisation : whereas he who chooses 
 his friend, not indeed it may be on phrenological cal- 
 culation, but by the instinct of the heart and mind, 
 and finds in him powers antagonistic to his own, will 
 experimentally learn that such a friendship is affluent 
 in resource, and efficacious in checks to evil, — as in a 
 well-ordered kingdom, in which a variety of different 
 grades and interests mutually conspire to strengthen 
 and assist each other ; or like a ship's crew, in which 
 the various officers have distinct parts to perform, 
 but in which the union of the skill and industry of 
 all is needful to insure the well-being of the whole. 
 
 One thing, however, is necessary to effect this : 
 as in the case of the kingdom, the government must 
 be one, and as in the case of the ship the captain must 
 be one ; so in friendship there must be the mutual re- 
 cognition of some one standard of principle, to which 
 both parties submit, which determines for both their 
 rule of action, and by which both regulate their 
 
 vol. I. S 
 
253 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 course. By this means their mutual diversities are 
 restrained from conflict with each other, the power 
 of united action is increased, and the largest amount 
 of efficiency secured with least degree of jar and 
 friction. The same law obtains in individual cha- 
 racter. That is the most affluent in resource, and 
 may be practically the most useful, which abounds in 
 antagonistic organisation and temperament : and a 
 rich blessing is in store for those who bring their 
 wealth of feeling and intelligence to consecrate all 
 to God. The Prince of Peace, when reigning in such 
 a heart, is manifestly shown to be also the King of 
 Glory. The value of diverse gifts depends indeed 
 on the force of the one sovereign controlling power, 
 and their amalgam becomes the fertile source of 
 endless variety in unity. Nay, we even see the 
 same law obtain in the physical world ; and it is 
 obvious that the antagonistic forces of fire and water, 
 brought into union by the genius of Watt, have pro- 
 duced results altogether unparalleled, not only in 
 diversity but in power. 
 
 In the midst of the conflict of opinions which I 
 have described, my mother stood like a tower of 
 strength, always the same. All these discussions, 
 whether political or religious, passed by her as though 
 they were not, and her converse still continued, as 
 before, the eloquent enunciation of noble sentiments 
 adorned with a rich tissue of historic or literary 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 259 
 
 lore ; while the society of Mr. Berrington and his 
 Catholic friends, eminent in scholarship, and enter- 
 taining a high sense of the decorum of their sacred 
 office, continued to impart a literary and moral charm 
 to our circle. 
 
 I must mention that the increasing delicacy of my 
 health now led to my father's assuming the direction 
 of my studies. I suffered many things of many phy- 
 sicians, and became more and more shattered in 
 nerve. The source of the evil was believed to be 
 in the spine, and my parents at this time heard of a 
 machine invented by a certain Mr. Jones, which was 
 esteemed an infallible means of supporting the spine, 
 and this instrument it was determined I should wear: 
 which I accordingly did, from the time I was eleven 
 till I was eighteen years old. My parents, full of 
 kindness to me and hopes for my benefit, little 
 realised the continued and often severe pain occa- 
 sioned by the application of this machine. It was 
 taken off only at night, and during the hour and a 
 half when I was allowed to lie down in the day ; nor 
 did they perceive the deleterious effect of a plan which 
 for so many years, from childhood to womanhood, 
 absolutely precluded the use of any vigorous bodily 
 exercise ; and not only so, but by this very preclusion 
 threw me disproportionately upon mental pursuits. 
 
 Frequently at first I besought my dear mother to 
 allow me to leave off this miserable machine, for the 
 
260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 pain it occasioned seemed almost more than I could 
 bear, but she answered, as I am persuaded she would 
 have done had the case been her own, " What is 
 that character worth which cannot bear a little pain ? 
 All thou shouldest inquire is the effect to be pro- 
 duced, and if the result be good, learn to bear the pain 
 cheerfully, and abide the test, a discipline which 
 every great and noble character must go through." 
 
 As so much more time was necessarily given to 
 reading and learning, and so much less to bodily ex- 
 ercise, my father, with the kindest intentions, now 
 undertook to help me in some of my pursuits. His 
 time was, however, fully occupied, not only with his 
 business engagements, eight miles off, the buildings 
 and additions he was making to our house at Barr, 
 the forming of gardens, the direction of his estate, 
 and his own scientific pursuits, but far above all 
 with his constant anxiety on account of my dear 
 mother's health ; he was, therefore, able to give 
 me only the remnants of time already more than 
 engrossed, and of a mind thoroughly pre-occupied. 
 This was, perhaps, the reason that, notwithstanding 
 my father's exact ideas respecting female conduct 
 and character, I was allowed much indiscriminate 
 reading. Shaftesbury's u Characteristics," Voltaire's 
 Works, of which we had the fine edition in about 
 seventy volumes, Moliere's Plays, " Gil Bias," Boling- 
 broke and Swift, succeeded each other, and mingled 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 261 
 
 their evil influences with the large and varied mass of 
 scientific, historic, and classical reading which also 
 occupied me. 
 
 My father, who was little used to children, often 
 amused himself by proposing intricate questions, or 
 cases of casuistry on various moral truths, while he 
 well knew how to weave around an inextricable 
 moral labyrinth, from which he had pleasure in 
 seeing the efforts to emerge; just as parents who 
 visit Hampton Court, with no apprehension of danger 
 might amuse themselves with bidding their children 
 enter the labyrinth, in whose mazes they are soon 
 bewildered, whilst the clue is perfectly known to 
 themselves. 
 
 I remember about this time hearing an observation 
 in reference to the Bible, which greatly staggered 
 me. It was said, " It is contrary to universal expe- 
 rience that miracles should take place, but it is 
 according to all experience that men should lie." I 
 had indeed an inward conviction that this was hollow 
 sophism, but I knew not how to detect it. It was 
 not till years after that I began to see that, even on 
 the ground of philosophy, we must of two difficulties 
 abide by the least. Now, it is said to be improbable 
 that God should work a miracle; but is it improbable? 
 Whatever date you assign to the creation of this 
 universe ; when it did start into existence it was a 
 miracle, and a miracle of which we constantly behold 
 s 3 
 
262 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF 
 
 the reality. It is not then true, that God has never 
 wrought a miracle ; the probability that He will, or 
 that He will not, do so again, must therefore be 
 measured by the cause there may be for the exertion 
 of miraculous power. Now, it has pleased God to 
 create man with moral sentiments ; would it not be 
 the greatest improbability, that, having bestowed on 
 man this gift, He should afford him no means for its 
 exercise on a true object? But how can that object 
 be known, but by a revelation of the mind of God 
 from God Himself? and how can that revelation be 
 given from Himself, to a creature formed in the 
 image of the Divine Trinity, without a revelation 
 which speaks with a triple voice to his threefold 
 being ? — to the spirit of man by the Divine Spirit, to 
 the senses of man by outward signs of power, and 
 to his understanding by deductions from both. This 
 being the case, the reality of a communication by 
 miracles to the senses of man, involves no greater 
 improbability than the fact that God should have 
 given man a revelation at all. But these and many 
 other things never occurred to me till years after, 
 when the abundant difference between the fruits 
 of the trees of life and of death led me to search into 
 that outward philosophy respecting them, which then, 
 however, was merely a corroboration to the testimony 
 of the Spirit of God, the deep conviction from 
 within, that the fruit of life was in the one, and that 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 2G3 
 
 of death was in the other. My father was so little 
 accustomed to live with his children, that lie was not 
 aware that what he considered only a salutary exer- 
 cise of mental strength was, unknown to him, sinking 
 into my spirit, perplexing my thoughts, or perhaps 
 fanning into a flame some latent evil of my heart. 
 There were many circumstances which prevented my 
 father's kindness in instructing me from completely 
 answering its intention. Often when I had laboured 
 to the utmost, and that for hours, to prepare my 
 lesson, perhaps in Latin or arithmetic, if it had one 
 single mistake or imperfection, my father would 
 refuse to look into it further. On such occasions, I 
 was deeply disheartened. My father, no doubt 
 greatly wearied, would often say it was lamentable 
 that my mother, who was so bright and intellectual, 
 and that he, who was so fond of science, after having 
 hoped for intellectual companions in their children, 
 should be tried by one so stupid and wayward. The 
 fact really was that I was almost in despair. I felt 
 such fear of my father, that my words, thoughts, and 
 feelings seemed frozen when he spoke to me, and, I 
 often thought, a sort of numbness of feeling alone 
 enabled me to live through these bitter hours of 
 childish trial. 
 
 Sometimes, indeed, my father was able to give his 
 attention fully, during the short time devoted to me, 
 but then his mind was remarkably affluent and 
 
 S 4 
 
2G4 AUTOBIOGRPAHY OF 
 
 fertile : mine has always been slow in receiving the 
 rudiments of that which is new to me, or which is 
 addressed to an organisation I do not possess. Now, 
 unhappily, almost all my father's instructions were 
 addressed to those organs of calculation and propor- 
 tion in which I am deficient, and with a view to 
 assist me (though a mistaken one) ; and through the 
 rich resources of his own mind, he would often show 
 me four or five different ways of coming to the same 
 result. By this means I often got completely 
 puzzled, and I neither understood a word of my 
 father's explanations, nor dared I tell him my diffi- 
 culties. All my efforts were vain. For a long time 
 my sense of duty to my father made me earnestly 
 try to please him, whatever the result; but, step 
 by step, the revolutionary doctrines I had heard in 
 our circle, concerning the tyranny of parents and 
 governors, and the equal rights of all, whether men, 
 women, or children, made some impression on me ; 
 and whilst my loyalty of heart, I believe, never in 
 my life once swerved from my mother, yet in this 
 instance, towards my father, I think I rather resem- 
 bled Bishop Andrewes, who told the king he consi- 
 dered him justified in taking his brother Neile's 
 money, since Bishop Neile himself had inculcated 
 the indefeasible right of kings. Nevertheless, I 
 constantly went from these lessons with hopeless 
 misery in my heart. Often I spent long hours in 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 265 
 
 tears, and often in a stupor-like despair. At that 
 time I was seldom alone with my dear mother ; still 
 it was a delight to me to be in the same room with 
 her, and to listen to her conversation in the circle of 
 her friends, although I could not shake off the 
 mournful sorrow which oppressed me. 
 
 Again and again did I earnestly wish I could 
 please my father ; deeply I felt it to be a duty, and 
 again and again, in the midst of my troubles, came 
 the vivid remembrance of how, when a little child, 
 he had taken me on his knee, and the same voice, 
 which now often spoke to me in tones of displeasure, 
 had amused and instructed me, by exj^laining che- 
 mical experiments, or by telling me long stories of 
 the wanderings of iEneas and Ulysses; and as I 
 thought of those happy hours, I wept in the bitter- 
 ness and anguish of my soul. And earnestly did I 
 again try, with the utmost labour, to achieve some 
 task which he, in his theory of the human mind, 
 thought perfectly easy, but which to me was im- 
 practicable. 
 
 There was deep sorrow, but there was also an 
 envenomed wound ; a murmuring spirit of rebellion 
 and a feeling of resentment began to grow up. 
 This I now think of with acute pain. I then only 
 saw the side that tried me. At this distance of 
 time, I see how sorely I must have tried my father. 
 Nevertheless, he often thought me rebellious when 
 
2G6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I was not ; he looked upon my deficiency and slow- 
 ness in arithmetic and algebra as so many proofs 
 of wilful rebellion : he likewise considered my want 
 of order, which I am sure must have been most 
 trying to him, as intentional undutifulness, and the 
 blank silence in which I listened to his displeasure 
 appeared to him insensibility, instead of being, as it 
 was, only the excess of misery. 
 
 How difficult it is truly to represent the chaos of 
 the natural heart ! I still loved my meditations on 
 Lavater as much as ever, and the unseen world he 
 opened to me, and the vastness and beauty of the 
 heavenly truths he spoke of; and I ever felt, as I 
 admitted them to my heart, their blessed influence 
 of peace, love, and elevation. They still seemed the 
 refuge I sought ; nevertheless, there was this great 
 difference, — I now doubted of their actual and sub- 
 stantial truth, whether they were beautiful visions 
 of poetry, or a deep reality; whether the internal 
 voice I had so long recognised as the voice of God, 
 and enjoyed in the silence of the Friends' Meeting, 
 or in the solitude of night upon my bed, in the 
 approving or condemning conscience when no human 
 eye beheld, and which I had heard speak, as from 
 every tree and flower and stream and sunbeam when 
 I walked abroad ; — I began to doubt whether this 
 holy voice were not a pleasant imagination, instead 
 of the healing paternal invitation of the God of 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 2G7 
 
 truth, the lispings of the natural language of man's 
 true fatherland. 
 
 In this doubt, my shield was gone, my hedge of 
 defence taken away, the fortress to which I had 
 retreated for safety crumbled to the dust: and in 
 that doubt my natural eagerness, together with 
 my timidity and melancholic temperament, led me 
 greedily to seek what amusement I could find in the 
 books, good and bad, which were set before me. 
 My distressingly weak health, indeed, and Jones's 
 instrument almost precluded me from any other 
 occupation than reading. I could take a moderate 
 walk, but I could join in none of the healthful plea- 
 sures and vigorous exertions of my younger brothers 
 and sisters. 
 
 Often in a beautiful summer day, or in a bright 
 and wholesome frost of winter, did I see them set 
 out with Mademoiselle, on some party of healthful 
 recreation, from which I was necessarily excluded, 
 and I had to wait in solitude the hours that in- 
 tervened before their return. Many were the tears 
 I shed, unknown to all. My only living sympa- 
 thisers were the beautiful dogs, of which we had 
 always many at Barr; they alone in the world, 
 except my mother, seemed to love me, they alone to 
 rejoice in seeing me ; and hence I suppose the love I 
 have ever felt for these animals. 
 
 My whole endeavour when down stairs, except 
 
268 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 when I was with my mother, was to say as little and 
 do as little as possible, in order to avoid giving 
 offence ; but when alone, in the hour that my dogs 
 did not come, I tried to bury myself in my books, 
 and throw myself entirely into any world but the 
 one of misery in which I actually was. I read with 
 insatiable interest and amusement of the disguises 
 of Don Raphael and Ambrose de la Mela, and of the 
 tricks of Scipio, and soon I began to desire to 
 emulate them. Good and bad things mingled to- 
 gether, and not being sure of the truth, the bad 
 carried the day. 
 
 Here let me, in a parenthesis, observe, that if a 
 portrait painter find it difficult to take a faithful 
 likeness of the person who is at the moment sitting 
 before him, and to give a representation which shall 
 neither be a mere beau ideal on the one hand, nor a 
 caricature on the other ; how far more difficult, nay, 
 impossible, must it be to give an accurate representa- 
 tion, either of persons, or of facts, when the lapse of 
 many long years has severed us from them. All faith- 
 ful autobiographies must contain pictures of those pas- 
 sages which by their excess of brightness or depth of 
 gloom have had the effect of leaving an indelible im- 
 pression on the character. Things are not portrayed 
 merely according to the proportions they actually occu- 
 pied amidst the sameness of every -day life, but assume 
 a relative importance which depends partly, indeed, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPEXNINCK. 52G9 
 
 on the incidents themselves, but chiefly in the impres- 
 sions they made on us. The reader then must remem- 
 ber, that many a valuable and improving intellectual 
 hour, full of interest and knowledge, was furnished by 
 my father in these days to his children, and that many 
 a delightful recreative time was passed in the scholar- 
 like and high-toned society attracted by my mother ; 
 nevertheless, the facts I have recorded rise up in the 
 midst, and cast their deep shadows far and wide over 
 all around. And under these feelings, gladly would 
 I have passed over many painful things in my re- 
 membrance; but I believe that all biography, like 
 all history, can have but one true object — that of 
 showing the dealings of God with mankind, or with 
 each individual soul ; the methods through which it 
 pleases God in Christ, by His Spirit, to rescue His 
 fallen creatures, by addressing them, through His 
 word, through His providence, and through His 
 judgments, till He has taught man his own nothing- 
 ness and the vanity of all earthly things, — and that it 
 is only by being conversant with God that Reason 
 can manifest her own nobility. It is thus, of His 
 mercy, that He permits those misunderstandings and 
 delusions of our fellow-creatures, which are necessary 
 discipline, to show us that He alone is our end ; 
 and if, instead of resting in subordinate details, we 
 take our experience as a whole, how wise, how 
 divine, how well ordered do His dealings appear. 
 
270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Truly, the discipline of my soul was, in fact, like 
 that of the whole Church. As in early times, God 
 made himself known by his title of Jehovah, and 
 called the patriarchs from time to time, conversing 
 with them often as friend with friend, and showing 
 them He was " their shield and exceeding great 
 reward," so in early childhood did our Lord give me 
 many sweet views of His peace, and a happiness 
 therein, in converse with Him whom, however, I, as 
 yet, saw but dimly ; and in the subsequent history of 
 the patriarchs, I have seemed in like manner to trace 
 the leading features of the outward course of my own 
 life. Blessed, like them, with the early favour of 
 those among whom my lot was cast, allowed for a 
 time to taste whatever worldly advantages and 
 abundance could afford to satisfy the heart, I was, 
 like them, to learn, when brought into a sore bondage, 
 that all the learning of the Egyptians was not able 
 to deliver me ; that the Lord had called me forth 
 into the wilderness to sacrifice unto Him, and had 
 Himself provided a Passover of forgiveness ; — and 
 by my own bitter experience, He at length taught 
 me, as He taught His people Israel, that the fear of 
 the Lord is indeed the only beginning of wisdom. 
 
 And if, through His mercy, I too am permitted to 
 look back from the precincts of Zion through the 
 long years of my past history, " on all the way the 
 Lord my God has led me," it is not to mourn over 
 
MARY ANNE SCH1MMELPENNINCK. 271 
 
 the "burdens" or the "taskmasters," but to rejoice 
 that they were made by God the means of my de- 
 liverance, so that, now at rest and dwelling among 
 " my own people," I seem well able to understand 
 the glad response of those of old to the gracious 
 injunction, " to show kindness to the stranger," be- 
 cause they had been, for a season, themselves as 
 strangers in the land of Egypt. 
 
 Thus does our Heavenly Father ever intermingle 
 cordials amidst His chastenings, and His mercy, 
 even in the most gloomy path, does not leave us 
 wholly destitute of an evidence, if we would but take 
 it to heart, that He is yet mindful of us. 
 
 My mother's Sunday instructions in my childhood 
 have made that day stand out from my earliest years 
 as a day of blessing. How thankful and how de- 
 lighted was I, when, after the long interval of 
 eighteen months, she was again able to resume this 
 practice. Nor can I ever think, but with the deepest 
 gratitude and affection, of the unremitting labour 
 which she bestowed upon me in her convalescence ; 
 for though unable to devote herself to me, beyond 
 the times I have mentioned on Sundays, yet she 
 occupied many hours, and expended much of her 
 strength, in making a collection for me, in three or 
 four manuscript volumes, of all the most striking and 
 beautiful fulfilled prophecies in the Old and New 
 Testaments, with historic accounts of their fulfil- 
 
272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ment. This was partly taken from Bishop Newton, 
 assisted by her own wide historic reading. How 
 invaluable did this work seem to me, both from its 
 own intrinsic excellence and as a monument of her 
 love and kindness ! Nevertheless, my Sunday in- 
 struction was not what it had been before my 
 mother's illness. She no longer began by a solemn 
 pause, nor took the Sermon on the Mount, the Com- 
 mandments, and the Lord's Prayer, as texts by which, 
 sentence by sentence, to interrogate me on the inten- 
 tions of my heart, and on my conduct during the 
 week. Possibly she thought that such an examina- 
 tion was more likely to be answered in simplicity 
 and truth by a little child wholly trained by herself, 
 than by the same child in after years. She saw, too, 
 I was timid, and probably thought these questions 
 might be a snare for my integrity, yet in reality this 
 omission deeply pained me. She was the only being 
 in whom I felt a full confidence. Whilst I could 
 never have shown her my feelings, I always could, 
 with perfect fearlessness, tell her my faults, and it 
 was a real unburdening of my soul when she invited 
 me to open my conscience to her. Her directness, 
 her truth, her strength, and her magnanimity, sup- 
 plied me with the support I wanted ; and just at 
 this time, when my conscience and views were 
 plunged in chaotic perplexity, I deeply felt being 
 bereft of that aid of which I had now fully learnt 
 the value. 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 273 
 
 Parents and instructors often imagine that children 
 do not like the restraint of being advised and spoken 
 to by those older than themselves, but I believe 
 nothing can be a greater mistake. Judging from 
 my own experience, I should say that the most se- 
 vere sufferings of childhood arise from perplexity 
 of view and uncertainty. I could not probably 
 have told in what the difference consisted between 
 my present Sundays' instruction and that I formerly 
 received, but I sensibly/eft it. On looking back I now 
 see that formerly all my mother's religious teaching, 
 though consisting of the merest elementary truths, 
 was given so as to bear upon the conscience, and to 
 address itself to my own heart individually. It 
 really touched my hopes, my awe, and the deepest 
 desires of my soul : the truths were few ; but they 
 stood before me as realities, as the realities that 
 ruled my destiny and that of all around me. This 
 now ceased to be the case. 
 
 My dear mother was a beautiful reader ; eloquent 
 in speech, she gave inimitable eloquence to the 
 utterance of others ; and after the lapse of sixty or 
 more years, many passages of the Bible never rise 
 before my mind but as associated with her image and 
 heard in her voice. I particularly recall many pas- 
 sages in the Book of Deuteronomy, the beautiful and 
 heart-affecting prophecies of Isaiah and Zephaniah 
 against Babylon and Nineveh, and the magnificent 
 
 vol. I. t 
 
274 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ode of Isaiah on the fall of the King of Babylon. 
 I remember she used to say, with Longinus, that the 
 passage in Genesis, " Let there be light, and there 
 was light," was the most stupendous passage that 
 had ever been written, excepting, perhaps, the one 
 at the opening of Isaiah, " Hear, O heavens, and 
 give ear, O earth : for the Lord hath spoken." 
 
 Thus was the character of the scriptural instruc- 
 tion I received intrinsically changed ; nevertheless, 
 it was still most valuable. The words of Holy 
 Scripture, under whatever aspect they are ap- 
 proached, can scarcely be dwelt on without sinking 
 more or less through the imagination into the heart; 
 and at this time I do believe, though no longer to me 
 what it had been, scriptural truth being now rather 
 a glorious prospect than a certain and constringent 
 reality, yet it did in measure for a season present 
 a dike against the overwhelming flood of infidelity 
 and naturalism which surrounded me. 
 
 In our circle at this period, I not uncommonly 
 heard our Lord spoken of as the wisest and best of 
 beings that had visited the earth, His morals as the 
 most pure and elevated, and as best suited to the 
 dignity of man ; yet I was told, in reference to His 
 miracles, that in those early ages nothing was known 
 of philosophy, natural history, or chemistry ; that 
 the writers of Scripture, though they were probably 
 good men, could not be expected to go beyond their 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 275 
 
 age ; and that it was impossible for us, at this distance 
 of time, to discern the limits which separated the 
 true from the false. The morality of the New 
 Testament was enforced upon me as most worthy 
 of the highest philosophy; that Plato in his Pha?don. 
 that Epictetus, that Seneca, that Socrates, had never 
 really surpassed Jesus Christ ; and that, as His mo- 
 rality was not only preached but exhibited in prac- 
 tice, it claimed our highest study and reverence ; 
 and although St. Paul was a bad reasoner, the 
 Apocalypse a spurious invention, and the first chap- 
 ters of St. John, St. Matthew, and St. Luke inter- 
 polations for which there was no authority, yet, as a 
 whole, the Xew Testament was worthy of very high 
 consideration. As to the Old Testament, it claimed 
 a constant perusal, in order to form the taste and 
 genius, and as containing the finest poetry in the 
 world ; and that whoever wished to store their minds 
 with noble imagery, with lofty imagination, or 
 their hearts with sublime and generous affections, 
 ought thoroughly to study many of the books it 
 contained. 
 
 And now I began to imagine that perhaps all my 
 scriptural instruction was not given me as true, but 
 only as beautiful, and henceforth I was shorn of the 
 last vestige of strength. 
 
 But that which at this time the most certainly 
 undermined my belief in religious truth was the 
 
 T 2 
 
276 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 conduct and bearing of some who professed them- 
 selves believers. 
 
 The Scripture speaks of the Church as clear as the 
 sun, fair as the moon, terrible as an army with 
 banners. The persons to whom I now allude, on 
 the contrary, always tried to avoid speaking of 
 Christianity (as though they were ashamed of it), 
 professing a sort of belief in the whole, yet denying 
 it piecemeal. It seemed as if their only study was 
 to agree as far as possible with its enemies, as far as 
 possible to modify its practices, running down and 
 ridiculing those who were Christians in deed and in 
 truth. This gradually inspired me with a deep 
 feeling that Christianity could not be true, since 
 even those who professed its doctrines were ashamed 
 of them. I record this because I wish that all who 
 name the name of Christ may be indeed aware that 
 those who do not confess do virtually deny Him. 
 Woe be to those who think they are servants of the 
 king, and yet wear the colours of the usurper ! 
 " Whosoever shall confess me before men, him 
 will I confess also before my Father which is in 
 Heaven. But whosoever shall deny me before men, 
 him will I also deny before my Father which is in 
 Heaven." 
 
 In this year my dear mother again left home on 
 account of her health, and I remained at Barr with 
 my brothers and sisters. 
 
MARY AXXE SCI1IMMELPENNINCK. 277 
 
 How delicate are the fibres -which cement human 
 hearts, on the preserving or the severing of which 
 concord and harmony depend. O how well were 
 it that those who have the care of children, not only 
 knew but practically remembered, that no human 
 beings can be placed closely together without at 
 times mutually and severely jarring against each 
 other ! One of the most holy and universally be- 
 loved persons I ever knew, once said to me, in her 
 old age, " My child, seek faith with your whole 
 heart, and obedience to God ; for, however amiable 
 and devoted those around you may be, there is much 
 need of forbearance with the innocent infirmities of 
 human nature, and a variety in providential desti- 
 nation, fully enough to try that faith and love at 
 times to the utmost." If such be the experience of 
 mature Christians, w T hat must be the collision be- 
 tween undisciplined children, if placed together 
 without suitability of object and without control ? 
 
 I think that, with a very little management, my 
 little brothers and sisters and I might have been 
 made, in a measure, to understand the necessities of 
 each other, and not to consider those things in which 
 we differed as a mark of ill-will ; whilst the same 
 wisdom might, during many portions of the day, 
 have made us helpful to each other, by the ad- 
 vantages which might have been derived, to me 
 from their strength and spirits, and to them from 
 
 T 3 
 
278 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 my greater interest in the objects of pursuit required 
 from both. 
 
 Sensitive as I was by nature, the addition of the 
 misery produced by Jones's terrible instrument 
 rendered me quite incapable of entering into their 
 amusements and pleasures. The trial to me was 
 great, when from the quiet enjoyment of the 
 society of my mother and her friends, I became 
 subject to the high spirits of my young brothers, 
 on their return from school, and the noise and 
 frolic in which they delighted. Even their most 
 innocent mirth and playfulness appeared an empty 
 weariness to me, who had always been accustomed 
 to associate cheerfulness with some intellectual com- 
 bination. I was grieved, too, by their appearing 
 to forget my dear mother's regulations, which I 
 looked upon as sacred, and this, though but the na- 
 tural consequence of their thoughtless age, was a 
 daily trial to me. 
 
 Yet, oh, how deceitful is the human heart ! If I 
 had then looked into my own, I might have seen 
 that, in some respects, I was virtually as unmindful 
 of my mother's wishes as they were. No temptation 
 would indeed have led me not to attend my masters, 
 or prepare my exercises, at' the appointed hour, nor 
 do I ever in my life remember having been blamed 
 for neglecting them. But then, though I attended in 
 bodily presence, I had the habit of learning my les- 
 
MAEY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 279 
 
 son, or writing my exercise, probably in half the time 
 allotted for it ; and for the rest of the hour, whilst to 
 others I seemed absorbed in study, my mind was far 
 off in Dream-land, living in an ideal world, which I 
 peopled according to my fancy, and where, in truth, 
 I sought to indemnify myself for my unhappiness by 
 an imaginative creation. 
 
 How has the remembrance of these days impressed 
 me with the great importance of our early habits 
 and associations. The mind of infancy is ductile ; 
 little channels of thought and affection are soon 
 formed, and then it becomes almost impossible to 
 prevent every accession of knowledge or feeling 
 from pouring its currents in the same direction, till 
 that which seemed at first but as a narrow brook 
 soon becomes worn into the deep bed of an irresis- 
 tible stream. Well has the Psalmist said, " The rain 
 filleth the pools." Whatever reservoirs we make, 
 they will soon be filled, either like the Lake Moeris, 
 by the floods and slime of earth, or like Solomon's 
 cisterns and Hezekiah's pool of almonds, by the rain 
 from heaven. 
 
 What a respite it appeared, when one day in each 
 fortnight, we went to Birmingham to attend our 
 masters. On such occasions we usually walked from 
 my father's house of business in Steele-house Lane, 
 to that we at this time occupied in winter, where 
 we took our lessons. 
 
 T 4 
 
2S0 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 In this walk we necessarily crossed the large 
 churchyard of St. Philip. As I hopelessly followed 
 Mademoiselle, how many hundred times have I 
 looked at the sods of that crowded churchyard, and 
 thought I would have given all I had to be lying 
 under one of them. 
 
 It is one effect of being sunken in spirit and 
 broken-hearted, that we lose even our power of ex- 
 citing sympathy ; and this was probably felt by those 
 around me. It was just two years since the time of 
 my first grief, when my dear mother had been taken 
 so ill ; but now, oh ! how different was my case ! I 
 then loved God, and I wished to do right. Now the 
 strong-hold of principle, for such it was even to a 
 little child, was gone. I knew not if there was a 
 God, and I knew not right from wrong ; darkness 
 brooded over the deep, and my misery seemed hope- 
 less. 
 
 Such was my state at this time. During the 
 hours in which I was ordered to lie down, I was left 
 to the amusement of reading many historic, many 
 infidel, and many of the political works of the day ; 
 and though my reading time abstracted me for an 
 hour or two from my social trials, it only added to 
 the root of misery, by infusing still deeper doubts 
 into my mind, and bewildering me amidst a galaxy 
 of arguments, too brilliant not to puzzle, and too 
 contradictory to convince. 
 
MAEY AXNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 281 
 
 Nevertheless, that dark and desert time, even that 
 passage through the land where no water is, by the 
 mercy of God was interspersed with occasional 
 oases. 
 
 Among the most sweet and pleasant of these 
 were occasional visits to the Catholic chapel at 
 Oscott. Few, indeed, and far between, they were, 
 but the sweetness of their remembrance must ever 
 remain. After the society of literary unbelievers, 
 and amidst the discussions I have mentioned, and the 
 misery and perplexity of mind they occasioned me, 
 how can I describe the rest it was sometimes, on 
 Sunday, to take our quiet country walk, through 
 meadows and green and silent lanes, to this little 
 Catholic chapel. As we went, the budding flowers, 
 the sweet singing-birds, the bursting trees, and all 
 the rich creation of that bountiful God whose very 
 existence I had so continually heard questioned, 
 seemed to speak an invitation to the wearied spirit, 
 and to allure the heavy-laden heart to come to Him, 
 to sit at His feet, and find rest in His life-giving 
 word. I, indeed, little understood the detail of the 
 service, nor had I any clear apprehension of the 
 doctrines taught ; yet I perfectly understood from the 
 heart, that the little company of wise and happy 
 poor who alone surrounded me reverentially felt the 
 reality of the Divine Presence. I saw before me 
 the semblance of the Redeemer upon the Cross, 
 
232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 exalted above their heads, and as though looking 
 down in blessing ; and I saw that in Him they found 
 peace, that they bowed to His supreme authority, 
 and confided in his love, as the best wisdom, 
 and that in His immediate presence the sense of 
 all else vanished; that earthly joys enticed, and 
 earthly sorrows oppressed, no longer ; that the heart 
 had returned to her rest ; that they came not to 
 discuss and to judge, but to submit themselves to the 
 judgment of His truth ; that they did indeed feel the 
 paramount value of the soul and the momentous 
 realities of the world to come ; and that they 
 worshipped a God whose love and compassion was 
 as far beyond the estimate of human hearts, as His 
 holiness was beyond the conception of man's con- 
 science, or His wisdom and power above human 
 intellect ; and this deep conviction I felt a preserva- 
 tion and a blessing : and though sixty and more 
 years have passed over my head since that time, the 
 sweetness of the remembrance yet remains, and the 
 savour of the happy though solitary walk home. 
 ^\ r ell do I remember how all echoed the solemn 
 voice I had heard, and especially did the tones of the 
 hallowed and elevating anthem of the " Te Deum " 
 fill my soul, while the primroses seemed to whisper of 
 the resurrection, and the bright and heavy dew to 
 tell of refreshing grace. Sweet and heart- elevating 
 were those moments, and the savour of them often 
 
MARY AXXE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 283 
 
 continued for a while ; but alas ! like a sunbeam upon 
 autumn flowers, or a ray of* light upon a sepulchre., 
 bright, but ineffectual to awake the dead that sleeps 
 beneath, these feelings passed away as " a tale that 
 is told," or as sweet-remembered music to the heart ; 
 yet I cannot but think that, however transient, such 
 impressions were a signal mercy. They did not, in- 
 deed, substantially fix my understanding on the 
 truth, nor give me definite instruction, but they did 
 what perhaps was better still — they implanted a deep 
 conviction, that the slightest religious feeling, even to 
 one as ignorant as myself, could impart a joy and 
 happiness which the intellectual investigation of 
 truth had failed to give ; and thus was laid the foun- 
 dation for a resolve to seek a distinct knowledge of 
 what the source of that happiness might be, and to 
 seek it with my whole heart. But for the present 
 my darkness and perplexity returned in full force. 
 Even the public newspapers added to these feelings. 
 There were pages of mourning and of blood ; execu- 
 tion followed execution, and wholesale butchery and 
 confiscation w T ere perpetrated against all who had the 
 misfortune to bear an illustrious name, or to be dis- 
 tinguished for holiness or excellence. 
 
 The massacres of the Swiss Guard, that of Sep- 
 tember, and of the Carmelites, the destruction of 
 monasteries, the turning their helj)less inmates 
 adrift, the massacre of the clergy and nobility, the 
 
284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 brutal usage of the unoffending Royal Family, and 
 the tyranny which surrounded them, filled my heart 
 with sorrow, compassion, and indignation. Amidst 
 my unbelief, I earnestly and continually prayed to 
 God that He would help their misery. O how 
 ardently did I wish I were a man, that I might 
 aid them, or die for them. This was the con- 
 stant subject of my day-dreams. Never shall I 
 forget an anecdote which reached us, that in the 
 dreadful moment when the royal party were hurried 
 back to the Tuileries, amidst an immense mob of 
 infuriated demons carrying human heads on spikes 
 and exhibiting them to the Queen, the procession 
 having stopped for a moment, one very poor woman 
 rushed out of her house with a glass of clear cold 
 water, and bending her knee, presented it, saying, 
 " Madam, wherever you are, you are my queen and 
 mistress still." I recall the tears of delight which 
 gushed forth as I read this. But alas ! the Royal 
 Family were taken back, and immured in the dun- 
 geons of the Temple ; and I said in my heart : " O 
 God! how long?" — but the next instant, I ex- 
 claimed : " Surely there can be no God in heaven or 
 earth, or He would not now be silent. Can God 
 be less pitiful or less compassionate than this poor 
 woman ? " And then, with the strange inconsistency 
 of childhood, I exclaimed : u Oh ! Jesus Christ, who 
 saw and remembered the widow's mite, will re- 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 285 
 
 member and reward this poor woman at the resur- 
 rection of the just." 
 
 Such was my miserable state. Notwithstanding 
 all this, circumstances, as well as my own suffering, 
 contributed to add to my horror of oppression. I 
 read with tenfold zeal all the books which Lizzie 
 Forster had lent me against slavery ; and I abstained 
 more zealously than ever, though alone in my family, 
 from using sugar, as the produce of slave labour. 
 All those I knew who still professed to be religious, 
 detested and reprobated slavery on Christian prin- 
 ciples ; all the esprits forts condemned it as infring- 
 ing on the equal rights of man. The aristocratic 
 condemned it as dangerous amid the general up- 
 turning of social institutions ; the democratic party 
 condemned it as a tyranny to be put down. Even 
 I had felt, by bitter experience, the yoke of a heavy 
 bondage, and of a tasking far beyond my intellectual 
 strength. In the midst, then, of the ruin and over- 
 throw of almost every great principle of religion in 
 my heart, and consequently in complete perplexity 
 as to every practical result in moral conduct, the 
 abhorrence of slavery seemed alone to tower above 
 the desolation as an impregnable fortress. What- 
 ever became of the belief of a God, of a soul, of a 
 future state, of the relation of man to man, this ab- 
 horrence remained unchanged ; and perhaps because 
 it was the only point that did so, I clung to it as 
 
286 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 with an unwonted tenacity and zeal. The misery I 
 felt often suggested the agonising doubt, whether in 
 reality I had any conscience or any desire after 
 truth left, so that I embraced with joy this sacrifice, 
 which bore a comforting testimony to myself that I 
 had some real principle, and that my want of it in 
 other instances might be justified by the uncertainty 
 in which all other truth was involved. And here 
 let me pause. How earnestly I wish I could im- 
 press my own conviction upon every heart, that the 
 want of any one Catholic principle is like the loss of 
 a limb, and leaves us so far undefended and un- 
 helped through the whole of our future course. 
 Never, I believe, do we admit any principle into the 
 heart that does not, like an inmate of our family, 
 walk side by side with us throughout our day, and 
 either at every turn confronts us as an enemy, op- 
 posing or hedging-in our course, or betraying our 
 sliding feet, or else journeys with us as a faithful 
 domestic friend, helping us in every moment of trial, 
 disentangling our path, and bringing light and 
 strength to our existence. Who can tell what may 
 be the effect of any one principle in its continual 
 actings either for good or for evil, or what we may 
 suffer from the rejection of any true Catholic prin- 
 ciple ? And little do we know at the time the 
 rejection is made, of the many battles and conflicts 
 in which its loss will be felt, and the battle-field lost 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 2S7 
 
 perhaps for want of it. This conviction is the fruit 
 of bitter teaching — long-tried experience ! At the 
 time of which I am speaking, I knew no principle : 
 I was in the dark as to what ought to be the 
 governing rule of conduct. It could not be to please 
 God, whose existence I doubted : then ought it to be 
 to please my neighbour or myself? But I was of 
 equal value with each other human being as each 
 other was with me, so that the question must ever re- 
 main undecided, or be decided by the caprice of the 
 moment. Next, what was doing good either to others 
 or myself? If there were a soul, if there were a 
 heavenly home to which we were tending, then, 
 indeed, there was a fixed standard of good, in what 
 furthers our own progress or that of others towards it ; 
 but if that were denied, what was good ? Ought we 
 for ourselves or others to sacrifice a temporal good, a 
 substantial reality, for an eternal good which might 
 be a phantom ? On the same principle, ought we to 
 sacrifice, for ourselves or others, any immediate 
 vivid pleasure close at hand, for a weightier happiness 
 which belonged to a contingent future ? And thus 
 the mind relapsed into the ancient Hellenic saying, 
 " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." 
 
 It was a signal mercy of God, that in the midst of 
 this darkness, He vouchsafed to give me clearness, 
 both of mind and conscience, respecting slavery. 
 This I saw, and this I held tenaciously ; and because 
 
288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 I held it, I was subject to daily ridicule and taunts. 
 I say I esteem it a signal mercy, that this one 
 point God enabled me to see and hold in fidelity ; 
 because the very difficulties I encountered were 
 the means of proving to me that peace of con- 
 science, in the sense of obedience to God, even on 
 one single point, bestows a happiness, far deeper 
 than any mere enjoyment can give without it; and 
 this conviction was a means, under God, of keep- 
 ing alive in my heart a sense of the unspeakable 
 value of obedience to the truth, if indeed there were 
 truth to be known, but for the present, I was in deep 
 perplexity. 
 
 Sometimes circumstances suspended for a season 
 my distress of mind. Amongst these was a journey 
 my father and mother took to Liverpool. I accom- 
 panied them, and I well remember the noble and 
 majestic woods of Trentham, and the contrast after- 
 wards presented by the road, and bare landscape, 
 from Warrington to Liverpool, and the impres- 
 sion made by the striking and imposing appearance 
 of Liverpool itself. Her groves of masts, the noble 
 estuary on which she stands, her broad quays 
 covered with foreign and especially West India pro- 
 duce, and the palace-like residences of her merchants, 
 all filled me with delight. I was reading Telema- 
 chus, and I seemed to see before me the glories of 
 ancient Tyre, and the wealth of Narbal. I gazed 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 239 
 
 with delight on the affluent contributions of a hun- 
 dred foreign lands, and of every different zone from 
 the arctic to the tropics, and it was a lively pleasure 
 to trace in imagination all these various commodities 
 to their native lands. As I walked with my parents 
 along the busy and crowded streets, where every tliin u; 
 bore the aspect of energy, business, and successful 
 traffic, I looked around, in vain, on all the busy faces 
 I met, hoping to find amongst the crowd some vene- 
 rable Termosiris, on whose countenance I might rest 
 my eyes, and from whose lips I might, like Telema- 
 chus, learn wisdom ; but none such appeared. 
 
 My visit to Liverpool left a lively impression on 
 my mind, and contributed an entirely new element 
 to my individuality, as well as a new development of 
 my organisation of form and colour. 
 
 My parents had a very interesting social circle in 
 this place, amongst whom I particularly remember 
 Dr. Currie, the author of the "Life of Burns ; " and 
 Mr. Rathbone, whose hair became grey before lie 
 was thirty, with intense theological study Alas ! 
 that this honourable and conscientious man had but 
 been convinced, that truth is to be felt after by the 
 heart, as well as thought after by the understanding. 
 His wife was the daughter of the philanthropist 
 Richard Reynolds, of Coalbrook Dale, whom I have 
 mentioned as my cousin Priscilla Gurney's particular 
 friend. Mrs. Rathbone was characterised by the 
 
 VOL. i. u 
 
290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 humility, exquisite imagination, and delicacy of 
 taste which afterwards distinguished her daughter- 
 in-law, the accomplished author of " The Diary of 
 Lady Willoughby." 
 
 Besides these persons, my father had also a very 
 large acquaintance with the affluent West India 
 merchants of Liverpool. They were most kindly, 
 generous, and hospitable ; their houses were like 
 palaces. I was amazed to see the sumptuous 
 drawing-rooms, rich with satin and silk, in houses 
 where there was no library, and at the large 
 assemblage of gaily-dressed and jewelled visitors, 
 many of whom seemed to think that books were as 
 much a superfluity as the great Pascal esteemed 
 brooms and towels. But what surprised me most in 
 the aspect of Liverpool was the multitude of black 
 servants, almost all of whom had originally been 
 slaves ; this deeply moved my compassion, and when 
 I saw the table laden with West India produce, in its 
 various forms of fruit and sweetmeats, and saw the 
 black servants looking on at the produce of a land, 
 their native home, which they had left for us, and of 
 which they might not partake, my heart often ached ; 
 and it is no wonder that my resolution was confirmed 
 never to taste anything made with sugar, or to use 
 other West Indian commodities. 
 
 Often, too, was my resolution helped by little cir- 
 cumstances which, in the course of my visits, I heard 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELrENNINCK. 291 
 
 concerning the Blacks. At one house where we 
 visited, there was a black boy, about sixteen or 
 seventeen, who appeared remarkablj docile and in- 
 telligent. The lady of the house told me her 
 husband imported him when he was twelve years 
 old. I know not where the ship stopped in her pas- 
 sage, but it was not till a long period of time had 
 elapsed that she reached Liverpool. The poor boy, 
 who had been torn from his mother and a large 
 family of brothers and sisters, had been deeply 
 depressed, and was only beginning to get better 
 when the ship arrived. His new mistress, who was 
 extremely kind, immediately sent for him. She was 
 sitting in a vast drawing-room, one end of which was 
 occupied by a large pier-glass, which extended 
 nearly from the ceiling to the floor. The door 
 of the room was opened ; the moment the little 
 Black entered, with an air of deep dejection, his eye 
 instantly caught his own semblance in the pier-glass ; 
 he stretched out his arms, and rushed towards it, 
 crying out, " Oh ! my brother ! my brother ! " and 
 in an instant the crashed pier-glass fell in fragments 
 on the floor. His kind mistress added, that she 
 never saw such a change, from sudden joy to disap- 
 pointment and sorrow, in any human countenance, as 
 his at that moment presented, that her feelings of 
 interest and commiseration were strongly drawn 
 forth, and from that moment she resolved to supply 
 
 u 2 
 
292 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the place to him of an affectionate guardian as well 
 as mistress. 
 
 I heard many other anecdotes concerning the 
 Blacks which deeply interested me ; but I must not 
 omit to mention some other things which do not 
 concern them. One house, where we visited, was 
 remarkable in stateliness and show beyond all others. 
 The West India merchant who owned it, had, I 
 believe, been a ship-carpenter. A successful prize, 
 taken by a privateer in which he was concerned, 
 made his wealth seem great, even amongst the 
 wealthy. On the day we dined there, a large party 
 was assembled, and the dinner was most sumptuous, 
 I never shall forget the beautiful simplicity with 
 which the mistress of the house said, " God has been 
 merciful to us ; in this very house where I now sit 
 at the head of the table, I was but a few years ago 
 the cook, and my husband worked as a carpenter, and 
 therefore I hope the ladies and gentlemen whom I 
 now receive, will consider that all they see around is 
 intended to do honour to them, though it is far 
 beyond what would be suitable to me." My dear 
 mother was much moved by this. I felt my heart 
 beat as she answered, with her perfect yet charming 
 dignity, " Madam, you would confer honour on any 
 rank, and not take honour from it." 
 
 The most pleasing part of my Liverpool journey 
 was the aspect in which it placed my father. It was 
 
MARY AXXE BCHIMMELPENNINCK. 293 
 
 delightful to listen to the stores of varied knowledge 
 
 © © 
 
 he poured out in conversation with my mother, and 
 often to me, concerning the variety of new things 
 which we saw around us, and it was quite an ex- 
 ample to watch his continued industry in gaining the 
 utmost information from each of the many objects 
 that surrounded him, the scenery, the varied effects 
 of light, atmosphere, and colouring, the beauty of the 
 trees, architecture, and the various historical reminis- 
 cences. My father looked minutely at the results 
 of different systems of cultivation in the country 
 through which we passed, the plans of road-making, 
 and their respective merits; he also always observed 
 the rate of driving, and the comparative speed of 
 horses in summer and winter, as well as at different 
 hours of the day. I have often thought what an 
 immense amount of practical information my father 
 accumulated by these habits, though they were often 
 annoying to me at the time, as many a tale told me 
 by my dear mother, and the observation of many a 
 beautiful scene was interrupted by his setting me to 
 count the foot-falls of the horse, or the recurrence of 
 the mile-stones. 
 
 How much reason I have since had to be thankful 
 to my father for many little details of information 
 which he was in this manner the means of my pick- 
 ing up. It is true my mind seemed more elevated 
 and expanded, as it delighted itself in the beauty of 
 u 3 
 
294 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 my dear mother's conversation; yet, on the other 
 hand, the accurate knowledge imparted by my father, 
 if it did not equally awake the heart, yet furnished 
 the intelligence with stores for the practical utilities 
 of life. Knowledge is the treasury from which we 
 are enabled to supply our own wants and those of 
 others; but knowledge can never be available unless 
 it be definite and accurate. How I have ever in- 
 creasingly felt the importance and value of this habit 
 of accuracy in my father ! 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIaIMELPENNINCK. 295 
 
 PART V. 
 
 1792-1793. 
 
 "Truth, which doth only judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of 
 truth, which is the love-making or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, 
 which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying 
 of it, is the sovereign good of human nature." Bacon. 
 
 "And a sign shall be mercifully given to the doubt of love, which 
 shall be refused to the doubt of indifference." Robertson. 
 
 Several months have now slipped away, during 
 which I have been prevented by illness from going 
 on with this autobiography, and whilst it is my 
 earnest desire to do so, I feel, even after this brief 
 interval, that it is no light thing to continue my work. 
 At the end of seventy-five years, it is almost 
 overwhelming to turn back to the vivid memory of 
 the past, for though in age our perceptions become 
 blunted, and that which is around us excites perhaps 
 no keen emotion, and the converse of the heart is 
 naturally amongst those whom it has known and 
 revered in years long passed, yet we more naturally 
 dwell amongst the anticipations and glorified views 
 of which our earthly friendships were the germ, 
 than on the literal recollections of what that germ 
 
 D 4 
 
296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 was in its earthly envelope. Hence that view of 
 the Church triumphant, which is the real rest, and 
 hope, and animating joy of the aged ; in which, 
 though memory is not without pain, it is merged 
 into nearer and brightening hope. Widely different 
 is it when the mind of set purpose leaves that 
 celestial region, and returns to the scenes that have 
 passed, and the inhabitants who once peopled them. 
 This converse is no longer with the living; we 
 traverse the vast cities of the dead ; we seem again 
 to listen to voices we shall hear no more on earth ; 
 we look upon countenances no mortal eye shall ever 
 more behold ; and as we recollect the motley train of 
 good and evil in which they were connected with 
 ourselves, we are like one traversing a vast cemetery, 
 where the heart tremblingly says to herself, 6t Alas ! 
 in this vast multitude. Thou, Lord, alone knowest 
 which amongst these sleepers have heard the voice 
 of the Son of Man, and now live before Thee !" Yet 
 as is the Majesty of God, so is His mercy ; and how 
 many persons who have been dear to us on earth, 
 over whose lot an impenetrable veil has hung, may 
 we one day find rejoicing in His love and mercy ! 
 
 But this is by no means the only nor even the 
 chief reason of the deep feeling with which I renew 
 this occupation, and, as I believe, perform this duty. 
 What I have to speak of next is full of evil. I 
 have to mark the gradual and increasing darkness 
 
MARY AXXE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 2'j7 
 
 of the heart when it is alienated from God. Oh ! 
 the deep solitude and isolation of the soul which 
 knows not God, or has abandoned Him ! Who that 
 has been rescued by His mercy, as it were, from the 
 brink of the grave, can turn again after the long 
 lapse of years to unlock once more the doors of that 
 dreary prison-house without shuddering ? If such is 
 the pain in following out the progressive fall of any 
 human soul once created in the image of God, 
 what is it when that soul is one's own ? Such are 
 my feelings at this moment. 
 
 I have no striking events nor remarkable exterior 
 circumstances to record in my life; it has in a pe- 
 culiar manner been a life of contemplation, not of 
 action ; one in which, therefore, I have had more 
 leisure for self-observation than most, and for dis- 
 tinctly noting the effects of what may have seemed 
 passing trifles upon the character ; an observation 
 which included the effects of not only what I 
 myself selected as my mental food, but likewise of 
 the different modes of training under which I fell. 
 
 It is not my intention to enter minutely into 
 every detail of this period of my history. I should 
 feel it impossible fully to describe a course with so 
 little external, but with such great development 
 of internal life. A heart where the Spirit of God 
 reigns not is chaos, and who can tell its darkness 
 and its contradictions ? 
 
298 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 After our return from Liverpool my father and 
 mother went to pay a visit to Dr. and Mrs. Priestley, 
 whilst I returned, in the same hopeless state I have 
 before described, to the school-room. Occasionally 
 I turned to my favourite Lavater. I again looked 
 at the beautiful country, at the glorious sun, at the 
 trees and at the flowers, but it was always with 
 a saddened heart ; for I feared that the picture La- 
 vater drew of the dignified destiny of human nature, 
 and of a heart purified by faith, was perhaps but a 
 poetical and ideal phantom. 
 
 I will, however, amidst the gloom, mention two 
 recollections which stand out prominently in the re- 
 view of my rapid descent. 
 
 One evening during a sunset, when the bright 
 light bathed the prospect in glory, I happened to 
 open a book of beautiful prints (I think of the Flo- 
 rentine Gallery). The picture represented a sacri- 
 ficial procession : there were long trains of priests; 
 then came the oxen, the sheep, and the swine, the 
 animals clean and unclean, all trapped out with gold 
 and rich garlands of flowers, yet all led as victims, 
 by those who conducted them to the altar, to pour 
 forth their blood and die. " Oh ! " thought I, " as 
 these heathen, priests of old did to these poor un- 
 conscious animals, so, if there be a God, is He per- 
 haps doing to us ; and even this beautiful face of 
 nature, and wealth, and riches, and honour are but 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 299 
 
 the gilding and the deceitful trappings with which 
 He leads His wretched victim, man, the clean and 
 the unclean, like the ox who licks the hand of his 
 conductor, or the boar who with his tusks would 
 destroy him, and hurries them alike and ruthlessly 
 to one common doom." 
 
 I also recollect that, after a time, I determined to 
 go on in this uncertainty no longer, but to come to 
 a definite result. The religious books that I had 
 from time to time enjoyed reading, either at home 
 or at my grandfather's, whilst they expressed de- 
 votional feeling did not impart distinct religious 
 knowledge, nor did they unfold the grounds of re- 
 ligious faith. I saw, indeed, that those who delighted 
 in these books were the happiest people I knew, but 
 also that they never gave accurate definitions of the 
 doctrines of their faith, or of the basis on which it 
 rested. From this I, in my presumption, concluded 
 that the writers were persons without sense, and 
 that their opinions were of little value. It was not 
 until many years afterwards I learnt that, having 
 proved the value of Christian truth by experience, 
 they had no necessity, on their own account, to dive 
 into the philosophic grounds for the belief of that 
 good of the efficacy of which they lived in a daily 
 and hourly experience. 
 
 On the other hand, I knew that those who dis- 
 believed were universally, at least in my experience, 
 
300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 esteemed the most acute logicians, and the most 
 highly gifted of men ; they always spoke of a bright 
 order of things to be achieved, which was in the 
 progress of being realised; and though no signs of 
 it appeared, I was wholly perplexed by their argu- 
 ments, and caught as it were in a net. The only 
 person I knew who was esteemed a man of high 
 talent, and yet religious, and who was also our inti- 
 mate friend, was Dr. Priestley, and his works were 
 the only religious books I heard spoken of with 
 respect amongst the intellectual society at Barr. 
 
 The writings of Dr. Priestley professed not merely 
 to be devotional, but to contain instruction in 
 Christianity. To these I now determined to appeal, 
 as the only standard of belief within my reach, in 
 order to satisfy my mind as to the truth or falsehood 
 of Christianity. I would especially mention f( The 
 Institutes," and the " History of the Early Cor- 
 ruptions of Christianity," and some other works 
 on Materialism and on Philosophical Necessity. 
 All these books having become familiar to me 
 about this period, I cannot positively say to which 
 of them it was I appealed on this occasion, though 
 I recollect with perfect distinctness both the room 
 and the hour in which I made this, to me, most 
 important research. 
 
 Well do 1 remember, too, the earnest spirit with 
 which I entered the solitary study ; but how different 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 301 
 
 from that of the prophet ! Pie came, with a heart 
 emptied of all things, to listen in reverent silence to 
 the word of the Lord : I came, with a heart full of 
 conflicting preconceived opinions and wild and false 
 imaginations, to seek guidance from the opinions of 
 a man, — a good though mistaken man, indeed ; but 
 little can they hope for truth who inquire of idols, 
 whether of clay or of gold. My thoughts were con- 
 flicting, compounded partly of prayer to God — if, 
 indeed, there were such a being — that He would 
 guide me ; partly of an indomitable reliance upon 
 self, and the power of my own spirit to weigh the 
 evidence brought before me. I determined not to 
 let any thing pass which did not bear the fullest 
 scrutiny of my reason. 
 
 Thus, in my pride and folly, how little did I see 
 the ridicule and absurdity of bringing the truths of 
 the ever-blessed God to be judged by the ignorance 
 and incapacity of one who was yet little more than 
 a child. Hardly less foolish, perhaps, does it seem to 
 the holy angels, to see the most capacious of human 
 intellects constituting themselves the judges of 
 Divine truth, instead of bowing the heart, and say- 
 ing, with the prophet Isaiah, " Hear, O heavens, 
 and give ear, O earth : for Jehovah hath spoken." 
 Let it be remembered it was Dr. Priestley's standard 
 of Christianity to which I was about to appeal. If 
 he succeeded in proving it to be true I was fully 
 
302 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 resolved to receive it ; if false, to cast it off : yet in 
 deep agony of heart, and under a strong desire to 
 find it true, I read with riveted attention ; and the 
 books seemed to prove indeed that Jesus of Nazareth 
 had lived, and that He was a good man ; but as I 
 went on, they declared Him to be no more than 
 man, and that the Gospel histories were written long 
 after the events recorded had occurred, and that 
 though there was sufficient truth in them to entitle 
 them to be called a Divine Revelation, yet there 
 were so many interpolations, so much expressed 
 according to the manner of the time, that in truth 
 every person must make the best use he could of his 
 own reason, in the search after the truth contained 
 in these records, and exercise free inquiry concern- 
 ing them. I thought I had here found the highest 
 and truest exposition of Christianity, from its most 
 excellent and gifted champion, one best calculated 
 to define what it really was ; and my heart sank 
 within me. Though I never had received any doc- 
 trinal knowledge of Christian truth, yet I had 
 entered that room with vague and glorious ideas 
 concerning it, which pointed to the conviction, that 
 the bright prospects and holy and sweet feelings I 
 so much prized, both issued from and terminated in 
 the truth, not only of God's existence, but of His 
 having taught men through a chain of holy prophets 
 and apostles, and, above all, through His Son, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 80S 
 
 Jesus Christ, by an outward revelation in the word 
 of Scripture. I thought that the same Jesus Christ, 
 though I never had distinctly contemplated Him as 
 Divine, was yet all-powerful, since He was declared 
 to have made all things : also that He was omni- 
 scient, since He saw Nathanael under the fig-tree 
 when afar off, and constantly answered the thoughts 
 rather than the words of those about Him. I had 
 also thought of Him as speaking to every heart, and 
 that none were left desolate who chose to turn to 
 Him ; that death was a gain to all His children, as 
 they would be with Him for ever, in a fulness of 
 bliss. 
 
 I thus entered the room, believing Christianity, if 
 true, to be the most glorious and blessed of all 
 things. I quitted it, not indeed believing Chris- 
 tianity to be false, but convinced that I had wholly 
 mistaken its object, its hopes, and sanctions. That 
 Dr. Priestley was a sincerely religious man, it was 
 impossible to doubt. Nevertheless, it is as true that 
 the principles his writings set forth produced on me 
 at this time an evil effect, which total infidelity had 
 never fully achieved; for infidelity I could not 
 altogether accept. His teaching of Christianity I 
 supposed must be true, and I found it wholly un- 
 suitable to my wants, and powerless to assist and 
 sustain. I was isolated and separated from God and 
 man. I felt my heart full of conflicting evil pas- 
 
304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 sions, and my soul was prostrate in the midst of 
 enemies stronger than myself. I needed a Saviour, 
 who to human sympathy added Divine strength, to 
 bestow life as well as consolation. I was wholly 
 perplexed amidst intricate doctrines and teachings I 
 was unable to unravel, and precepts I could not 
 definitely understand. Vain was it to me to have 
 revelation put into my hand, unless the Divine 
 Author were Himself near to explain it, by the 
 communication of His Holy Spirit of life, love, and 
 knowledge : nor did I only need the truth as set 
 forth by a mere inaccessible lawgiver ; but, above all, 
 I needed the love of it, and fervent zeal for it to be 
 kindled in my lonely heart. O what a vivifying 
 cordial would it have been, had I then known as- 
 suredly that the Good Shepherd had given His life 
 for His sheep ! 
 
 My mind was thoroughly perplexed by the diffi- 
 culty of reconciling what appeared the contrary re- 
 quirements of the holiness and of the mercy of God. 
 If He enforced the implacable law of holiness before 
 which I shrank, where was His mercy ? If He did 
 not enforce it, then where was the use or object of 
 promulgating any law at all ? 
 
 To Dr. Priestley no doubt these sentiments, so far, 
 indeed* as my impressions were really founded on 
 what he said, would bear a very different aspect. 
 He had been trained in a most orthodox gospel 
 
MARY AXXE SCHIMMELrEXXIXCK. 303 
 
 faith. His affections and Ills habits had been formed 
 and disciplined in the old Presbyterian school. It 
 was only in after life that he gradually imbibed his 
 peculiar sentiments, so that it might almost be said 
 that his heart and life were implanted in the prin- 
 ciples of Gospel faith, and that his subsequent senti- 
 ments were merely speculative opinions. With me 
 it was very different. My youth needed not intel- 
 lectual opinions, but constraining principles to afford 
 a goal of assured hope, to bestow a distinct light on 
 the road leading to that goal, and to present a suffi- 
 ciently strong and firm curb of discipline to rule 
 the conflicts both of the heart and intellect. Chris- 
 tianity no longer appeared glorious to me. I felt 
 at that moment as if the Fatherly relations of the 
 ever-blessed God to each individual soul were 
 become extinct. As to prayer, it seemed a vain 
 mockery to creatures whose doom was, according to 
 the system of philosophical necessity, everlastingly 
 sealed. My blood curdled as I thought of the many 
 martyrs who had joyfully laid down their lives, as 
 they believed, for the truth of the Gospel, but who, 
 on this supposition, had only, by an early death, 
 added so many years to the long period of uncon- 
 scious sleep. Oh ! how different from the declara- 
 tion of the apostle, " To live is Christ, to die is 
 gain." 
 
 I have recorded this conflict at length, not only 
 VOL. i. x 
 
306 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 because it was a turning point in my own life, 
 but because I have seen the same principles acting 
 in the same evil manner in the case of others. Many 
 I have known who groaned under the same unhappy 
 teaching. I would express my deep conviction, that 
 it is in infinite wisdom that true religion is simple. 
 The teaching of man would lead us sometimes to 
 think the contrary, but the religion of God can 
 never be of a nature which is incomprehensible to 
 children, as I have heard it said, because they are 
 too young ; or to the aged, because their intelligence 
 waxes feeble ; or to the ill-educated, because they are 
 too ignorant ; or to the unintellectual, because they 
 have not sufficient mind. O, blessed be God, who 
 has declared that to the poor the gospel is preached, 
 and whose truth, according to the favourite ex- 
 pression of the present day, is " truth for the 
 million ! " 
 
 Thus was my former misery and wretchedness 
 sealed upon me tenfold. Much could I state of 
 my sufferings at this time, but I will pass on. The 
 unblessed principles I have spoken of waxed stronger 
 from day to day. How awful to me is the thought 
 that although with the lips I did not confess it, I 
 yet in the depths of my heart rebelled against the 
 ever-blessed God, considering Him as having doomed 
 me to a life of misery, having given no hope of life 
 beyond the grave, and bound me by an iron law 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 307 
 
 which He had given me no heart to love, nor power 
 to fulfil, and having subjected me, in His providence, 
 not only to ill health, but to the unkindness of some 
 around me, who seemed to grind that little temporal 
 life which was the only one now left me into the 
 dust, and to preclude me even from plucking the 
 brief blossoms which sometimes occur to the most 
 desolate. 
 
 Towards my fellow-beings my heart was equally 
 embittered, because all that I suffered I now looked 
 upon simply as so much misery unjustifiably added 
 to the weight of my existence. Thus did the tares 
 seem at last wholly to choke the wheat ; thus did a 
 few false principles shatter at once the double table 
 of the Divine law of love to God and love to man. 
 Thus was I left a stricken desolate waif upon the 
 stream of circumstances ; and thus hoping for no love 
 from God or man, my heart became changed within 
 me, and the dark and bitter waters, of which it was 
 full, soon overflowed on all around. The difficulty I 
 felt in believing Divine attributes which appeared 
 to me absolutely incompatible, and destructive of 
 each other, the misery of living in a world of cruel 
 oppressors, the horrible fears and anticipations which 
 haunted me, the bodily weakness which compelled 
 me to spend my hours alone in intellectual exer- 
 cises, — all seemed to render it impossible I could 
 bear up longer. The consequence was that I sought, 
 
 x 2 
 
308 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 by every means in my power, to take hold of all that 
 fell in my way, however trifling or pitiful, that could 
 give me a moment's distraction. I was as a drown- 
 ing man, who feeling himself engulfed in a mighty 
 whirlpool, seizes not only any branch which might 
 afford the prospect of effectual help, but even in- 
 stinctively catches at every worthless straw that 
 might for an instant delay his doom. My character 
 seemed wholly changed. Trifles which before were 
 unheeded became important. I had ceased looking 
 into myself; my love of observing character, now 
 shorn of its elevating objects, became caustic and 
 harsh, and I sought amusement in the foibles of those 
 around. My spirit had changed within me, and 
 I may truly say, that where the perusal of Lavater 
 had formerly inspired me with what I should call a 
 fine perception of the lines of character, their edge 
 was now turned into a hard and sharp and cutting 
 outline. All the little indulgences of life, even in 
 the article of food, or going out for a walk or a 
 drive, or company, or, in short, any trifle which came 
 before me, and which once would have been uncared 
 for, now swelled into a matter of importance ; just 
 as I have read that, to the unhappy captives in the 
 Bastille, their brief half hour's daily walk in the air 
 became a matter of vital interest. In books, too, 
 my taste was changed. Stories that tended to 
 nothing, full of improbable wonders, mawkish sen- 
 
MARY ANNE SCI1IMMELPEXNINCK. 309 
 
 timent, or exciting incidents, became my favourite 
 reading, anything sufficiently pungent to stimulate, 
 or soporific to lull me. All useful pursuits no 
 longer attracted, all affectionate and deep interests 
 ceased ; the single deep and unquenchable love 
 and admiration of my mother yet burned as the only 
 beacon still casting one ray of light over the wild and 
 dark chaos of my mind. 
 
 Well has my own bitter experience given me a 
 key to unlock many an evil passage in the page of 
 human record. Truly do I understand how, in the 
 hour of calamity, those whose hearts are overwhelmed 
 within them, and who know not God as a Father 
 through His dear and only Son, are forced, as the 
 only alternative, to seek distraction in dissipation 
 and folly ; and thus the conduct of men, in great 
 domestic or great public calamities, as they peace- 
 fully centre themselves in God as their rest and 
 refuge, or flee to the distractions of the world, 
 throws an unmistakeable light on the internal path 
 which, in each case, has preceded. Strong trials 
 not only show what men are, but what their course 
 has been. How astounding, and to some persons 
 impossible, it seemed, that robbery, the plunder of 
 the dead and dying, and heartless and reckless 
 debauchery and dissipation, should have been rife in 
 that metropolis where, at the time of the Great 
 Plague, dreadful omens appeared in the air, and 
 
 x 3 
 
310 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 the death-cross marked most of the closed houses, 
 where the death-cart was constantly parading the 
 streets, and the solemn call, " Bring out your dead!" 
 was only interrupted by shouts of revelry and mad 
 laughter. How little could some believe that during 
 the Reign of Terror, whilst one ghastly train of 
 execution and massacre daily followed another, the 
 dreadful " Bal aux Victimes " could find place, where 
 every dancer was to have lost, within the month, a re- 
 lative in the first degree ; or that the height to which 
 the blood of the decapitated victim could spout, would 
 form a subject of amusement, or of bets, to little chil- 
 dren ! And how impossible did I at one time find it 
 to believe that one distinguished alike for his talent 
 and his infidelity in our own circle, should have 
 designedly spent the last closing hour of his beloved 
 wife's mortal agony in a play-house, and sought in 
 a pantomime the solace he could not find in that 
 Christianity from which he turned away. But now 
 I perfectly understand it. My heart has received a 
 deep lesson, that calamities can be received only in 
 two ways. Either the spirit must soar far above 
 earthly mutabilities to heavenly peace, whilst the 
 soul and body are thus strengthened to receive the 
 chastening from a Father's hand, or else they must 
 be met by stupifying the soul in indifference, harden- 
 ing the heart in rebellion, or sharpening the spirit 
 in acrimony against God and against man. 
 
MARY AXNE SCHIMMELPEXNINCK. 311 
 
 It is a common proverb with respect to honesty, 
 et It is hard for the empty purse to stand upright." 
 It might be as true with respect to kindness, " It 
 is hard for the heart that is not replenished with a 
 sense of receiving love, to give forth love." If such 
 be the deplorable result on hearts which have wanted 
 the fostering effects of human love, what must be 
 the state of that miserable heart which is destitute 
 of the Fountain of all love, which has no perception 
 of the love of God ! 
 
 I speak from my own experience. I may truly 
 say, the workings of my own heart have taught me 
 the wickedness of the wicked, as the mercy of God 
 to that evil heart has taught me, likewise, the 
 blessedness of having the eye in any degree open to 
 the perception of that love, and rejoicing in it as the 
 strength, the cordial, and the restorative of the soul, 
 and a sunbeam to the very heart and life. How 
 well I know, by experience, that laughter is mad, 
 and u as the crackling of thorns under the pot;" and 
 how well have I understood the case of the actor at 
 Rome, who wept scalding tears of misery behind the 
 comic mask under which he kept the whole amphi- 
 theatre in a roar of laughter. 
 
 Well I comprehend how, under the harsh and 
 cold armour of austerity, the heart may wrap itself 
 in its misery and isolation. I have long thought 
 that the experiences of daily life, and the ample 
 
 X 4 
 
312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and vivid page of history, form, as it were, a lock 
 and key to those who take the trouble to apply 
 them. 
 
 How small an incident in our own private life 
 may throw light on volumes of cruelty, oppression, 
 and hardness of heart we could not otherwise under- 
 stand, and from the contemplation of which, but for 
 that key, we should rise in relentless judgment, 
 when, with it, we can weep as sympathising brethren, 
 and as fellow sinners smite upon our own breasts. 
 
 Then again, if we look at the page of history, it 
 gives a salutary and awful warning of the end in 
 which little germs of evil, as we may have called 
 them, would have terminated but for God's mercy. 
 Thus I may truly say, that the horrors which were 
 raging around me in the period of the French Ke- 
 volution, and the political state of things with us, 
 taught me a deep and ineffaceable lesson, of how 
 evil is man, and how great and glorious is God. 
 
 Under these evil influences, I became careless and 
 heedless of all my duties, though still zealous for 
 intellectual improvement. I was turbulent, contra- 
 dictory, and disputatious against the authority of 
 all placed about me, constantly supposing that I 
 knew better than they. I well remember telling 
 Mademoiselle, that it was a mere popular prejudice 
 that years confer sense, and that she had taught 
 me to despise popular prejudices ! 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENXIXCK. 313 
 
 About this time, my mother sent me a little 
 present of an ink-stand in a leather case, like two 
 quarto volumes, and at the back was inscribed, in 
 gilt letters, " M. A.'s Miscellany." It was accom- 
 panied by a note, in her own hand, yet more precious 
 than her gift, in which she told me she knew I was 
 fond of writing ; that she had therefore given me a 
 writing-case completely furnished, and provided with 
 a good lock and key, that it might insure to me that 
 perfect freedom which is needful to the full deve- 
 lopment of heart and mind. I cannot express the 
 delight this present gave me. It seemed next to 
 giving me a friend to whom I could communicate 
 every thing ; and it was indeed a refuge thus to be 
 able to escape from outward annoyances, and to 
 converse in quietness with my own heart; it was 
 of all gifts the one I should most have liked, yet 
 the glowing sense of my dear mother's kindness 
 and love was the gladdening thought that crowned 
 the whole. Sweet was this, and as a seasonable 
 balsam it distilled upon my heart, but oh how yet 
 more sweet, more consoling, and more cordial, would 
 it have been, could I have seen in this gift the deep 
 sympathy of Him who has all hearts in His hand ; 
 sending gifts sometimes from Himself immediately, 
 sometimes through the instrumentality of those we 
 love, and thus, like a generous as well as tender 
 friend, using the bounty of His own love to 
 
314 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 strengthen, to sanction, and to sweeten our bonds to 
 others. 
 
 Ever since this truth was brought home to me — 
 many years after the time of which I am now speak- 
 ing, — I have experienced that the habit of taking out 
 of the hand of our Lord every little blessing and 
 brightness on our path, confirms us, in an especial 
 manner, in communion with His love. 
 
 I found my dear mother's present invaluable. 
 Daily did I occupy my hours, sometimes in pouring 
 out the effusions of my own bitter heart, sometimes 
 in writing accounts of what had peculiarly interested 
 me in my reading. Such, for example, as striking 
 traits of history, remarkable trials, or descriptions of 
 memorable events. Amongst these I particularly 
 remember descriptions of the great eruption of 
 Mount Vesuvius in 1783; also a translation I made 
 from Tacitus, many passages in the life of Germa- 
 nicus, and the account of the destruction of the 
 army of Varus, La Rochefoucault's Maximes, and 
 many passages in the history of Cortes and Co- 
 lumbus, together with sundry translations and copies 
 of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Such were then my 
 tastes. 
 
 I fell into a temptation about this time, the cir- 
 cumstances of which are vividly depicted on my 
 memory, because it was the only occasion on which 
 I was ever tempted to deceive my mother. I have 
 
MARY AXXE SCIIIMMELPEXXIXCK. 3i5 
 
 mentioned how careful she was about the books 
 which she gave me to read ; but now, in her absence, 
 it was the custom of my governesses to read aloud at 
 tea, or in the long autumn evenings, books of which 
 I felt certain that she would utterly disapprove. I 
 tried at first, while these readings went on, to in- 
 trovert my mind ; and how easily could I have done 
 so, had I continued looking upwards, even through a 
 cloud, yet a bright cloud, towards God ; or had I 
 felt the happiness I so often had enjoyed at Dudson 
 and in the Friends' Meeting, when my heart was full 
 of Lavater's views of all that was holy, loving, and 
 happy ; but it was not so now. 
 
 How do those who have no happy home within 
 their own hearts become the prey of the external 
 circumstances upon which they are driven ; just as, 
 when life ceases in the body, the external agents 
 over which its vital principle gave it the mastery, 
 decompose it at pleasure. " Wheresoever the car- 
 case is, there will the eagles be gathered together." 
 
 After a time, it so fell out that one of the most 
 pernicious of these books was in course of reading, 
 which yet the genius of the author rendered most 
 interesting. We were interrupted towards the end, 
 and I was filled with intense desire to know the 
 sequel ; and, from circumstances which I now forget, 
 I expected to be absent at the reading the next day. 
 I was alone in the room, and though with some 
 
316 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 misgivings, I went to the book-case, and put the 
 volume, which was a small one, into my pocket, pro- 
 mising myself to read it when I should be alone 
 next day before dinner. The following morning, 
 after I had done my lessons, just when I was about 
 to retire to my own room and read the book, the 
 sound of carriage wheels was heard, and my dear 
 mother entered. The surprise and gladness of this 
 unexpected meeting at once filled my whole heart, 
 though the moment after, I felt it overcast by the 
 expression of fatigue and delicacy on her counte- 
 nance, and all thought of the book was forgotten. 
 
 My dear mother soon called for the reports of our 
 masters and governesses, to see how we had been 
 going on. She looked at them all till she came to 
 mine, when she said : " This report I will open, 
 though I know I need not, for Mary Anne always 
 loves me, and always does more than well." At 
 this instant the recollection of the book, still in my 
 pocket, rushed into my mind, and surely the very 
 agony of guilt must have been written on my coun- 
 tenance. I exclaimed : " Oh no ! " and Iwas about 
 to declare the whole, when pride, and the sight of 
 those whose disobedience had led me into this 
 temptation, stopped me, and with my whole soul I 
 inwardly prayed to God (so strange are the anoma- 
 lies of the human mind !), that He would grant me 
 His help, during my mother's short stay, that she 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNIXCK. 317 
 
 might not ask me any questions which would lead to 
 a discovery ; for, childlike, I had an instinctive fear 
 of her knowledge ; and that she might not have a 
 suspicion of what I knew would give her such 
 unutterable pain. 
 
 She asked me no questions. I sat in misery the 
 whole time of her visit. Whether it was that she 
 really felt more than usual from her having been so 
 long away, or whether from the remorse of my own 
 evil conscience, her love seemed manifested on this 
 day in an unusual degree, and every word she said, 
 which otherwise would have been so sweet to me, 
 pierced me to the very heart. At length she rose 
 to go, almost equally to my acute pain and inex- 
 pressible relief. As she went towards the door, my 
 heart smote me, and I said to myself, " Is it pos- 
 sible I should be such an unnatural child as to be 
 able to rejoice at the departure of my dearest 
 mother, of the person on earth I love the best, and 
 who is wont to be as the sunshine of my heart ; and 
 all through my own disobedience and wickedness ? " 
 She had given a little remembrance to each of my 
 brothers and sisters, and when she got as far as the 
 door, she turned back, and gave me a beautiful 
 basket of fruit from Dudson, and said, " I picked 
 this fruit for thee myself, and rose an hour earlier 
 to do it, because I thought thou wouldest love it 
 better for being gathered by thy mother, and the 
 
31 S AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 time seemed to me so short, as I was thinking of my 
 eldest, as my good and dutiful child." I pushed 
 back the basket, as I hurriedly exclaimed : " Oh ! no, 
 no, no, indeed I am the worst of all," and I put my 
 hand in my pocket to draw forth the book ; but the 
 look of deep illness and fatigue on her countenance 
 again stopped me. The servant and Miss P. told 
 me to be silent; I burst into tears, and she was 
 gone. I rushed into my own room, and double- 
 locked the door. I threw myself prostrate on the 
 floor, in deep self-abhorrence. Oh ! I would have 
 given anything at that moment, if my dear mother 
 had but known the truth, even had she expressed 
 her sternest displeasure, and I had been free from 
 the traitor's part of receiving her approbation, and 
 a kind present, at the very moment I was deceiving 
 her ; and then, again, with many tears, I earnestly 
 vowed to God that it was the last time in my life I 
 would be guilty of such a transgression. I replaced 
 the book immediately, unalterably resolved never 
 willingly to look at another that I knew was evil ; 
 and this resolve I have kept unbroken through life ; 
 but the agony I then underwent left an impression 
 which the lapse of sixty-two years has never effaced. 
 After a considerable time I arose. On my table 
 was the basket of untouched fruit. Long I gazed 
 at it, with a heart-piercing sense of my mother's 
 kindness. I looked at the beautiful manner in 
 
MARY AXNE SCHIMMELPENXINCK. 319 
 
 which it was packed, and tied up with that ex- 
 quisite perfection which characterised all that she 
 did. Then I untied it ; and, as I touched the work 
 of her hand, I remembered the passage I had read 
 in Milton, of Satan's putting his foot on the holy 
 ground of Paradise, and that his touch was a pro- 
 fanation. When I took off the outside leaves, I 
 again contemplated the fruit, and the feeling sank 
 into my heart, that it had indeed been gathered ex- 
 pressly for me, since it consisted of the sorts of fruit 
 my mother knew I liked. As I write this I recall 
 the beautiful peaches and nectarines, the rich Moor 
 Park apricots, greengages, and the large bunches of 
 grapes, with the pine-apple crowning the whole. 
 Long I looked at it, and wept as I traced her kind- 
 ness. Beautiful it was, fresh in dew, and scarcely 
 a particle of its bloom disturbed. I said to myself, 
 " How beautiful and how perfect is that which my 
 mother does, and now into what hands is it £oin£ to 
 pass? Had it been polluted by unwashen hands, 
 or by the ravages of hundreds of insects, she would 
 not think her gift so defiled as by the touch of a 
 deceiver." My heart sank within me. Then I 
 arose suddenly, and exclaimed to myself, " And it 
 never shall be so defiled; I will never thus dis- 
 honour my dear mother's kindness." I then took 
 the basket, and went down to the dining-room, 
 where the family were assembled. I laid it down, 
 
320 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 and asked those present to divide the whole among 
 them, excepting a portion I resolved to reserve 
 for our lame Catholic boy, who was my mother's 
 especial protege. 
 
 They gladly took the fruit. I waited sorrowfully 
 till they went out to play, and then I gathered up 
 the leaves, and stalks, and every remnant, took them 
 to my own room, and taking a sheet of drawing 
 paper, the only one I possessed, I packed them up 
 carefully, and depositing them in the little basket 
 with its string, I put them away, as a sacred re- 
 membrance of my deep humiliation, and the solemn 
 vow which I had taken. 
 
 Shortly after this we all removed to our winter 
 house in Birmingham ; and here, though the same 
 sorrows and conflict still weighed on my heart, yet 
 there were many outward alleviations. 
 
 My father no longer took part in my studies, 
 which were differently arranged. A clergyman 
 attended to give me Latin lessons, besides which we 
 had a drawing and a music master. All these pur- 
 suits were very delightful to me, more especially 
 because my dear mother, from time to time, super- 
 intended them, but also because they harmonised 
 with the reading and conversation which were my 
 chief recreations in the drawing-room. Well I re- 
 member many of the interesting works my mother 
 at that time read aloud, and which she conversed 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 321 
 
 upon after tea, for some of them formed the germ of 
 almost all the tastes which have since been developed 
 in me. Amongst these I would especially note a repe- 
 rusal of White's " Selborne," and all Gilpin's Works 
 on the Picturesque. My dear mother had an exquisite 
 taste for landscape gardening; and the general capa- 
 bilities of ground, with the varied dispositions of 
 water, wood, and rocks, became an interesting sub- 
 ject of study to me. I also loved to observe the 
 various growth of different kinds of trees, and the 
 distinct characters of the beauty they imparted to 
 the landscape, together with the different effects of 
 their colouring on aerial perspective ; and I delighted 
 to hear my mother point out effects of scenery, or 
 of light and atmospheric changes at different periods 
 of the clay or seasons of the year, remarks constantly 
 illustrated by observations made at the places we 
 visited in our summer excursions. From this the 
 transition was easy, through the medium of prints 
 and descriptions, to the scenery appropriate to 
 various zones, from the tropics to the arctic circle ; 
 and this again furnished a rich interest in books 
 of travels, and in the botany and natural history il- 
 lustrative of each. All Addison's charming papers 
 on Imagination, and his illustrative critique on 
 Milton, furnished the basis of most interesting con- 
 versation. 
 
 We read, too, with much pleasure, the papers on 
 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
322 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Sir Roger de Coverley. These were truly conver- 
 sational evenings, during which we children either 
 read, or drew, or conversed. The books were the 
 best help to elicit thought and the flow of general 
 intercourse. 
 
 But the great interest of the winter was Bruce's 
 Travels. This book was then new. The estates of 
 Bruce of Kinnaird adjoined those of my maternal 
 grandfather, Robert Barclay of Urie. They were 
 intimate friends, and when all the world, with one 
 voice, scouted what they considered the improbabi- 
 lities detailed in these travels, my grandfather Barclay 
 always said, (i I have known Bruce intimately from 
 his early years ; he is too strong a man to have been 
 thwarted by difficulties, he is far too able to have 
 been deceived, and he is infinitely too proud to tell 
 a lie." My mother, noble herself and above suspi- 
 cion, gave his writings full credence. I sometimes 
 counted the hours till tea-time, or I eagerly listened 
 for the movement of my mother's silk gown as she 
 came down stairs, and when she entered the room 
 we drew closely round her, to hear her vivid sketch 
 of what she had read in Bruce that day. The 
 Baharnagash, Ras Michael, Ozoro Esther, and Tecla 
 Mariam, became as familiar as domestic names, and 
 when we came to the final crossing of the Great 
 Desert, and the whole caravan was lost, and Bruce, 
 as the last resource, crawled to a little eminence, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 320 
 
 placing his head in his hands and shutting his eyes, 
 to listen intently for any sound, and at last caught a 
 scarcely audible murmur of the distant water of the 
 great cataract, on which their salvation depended, 
 our anxiety was almost breathless. I never in my 
 life felt any narrative as I felt that. My dear mother, 
 who never entered into things by halves, read this 
 book with enthusiasm, and sent for a copy to give 
 to her friend Dr. Priestley, and rarely was a gift 
 more prized. 
 
 Dr. Priestley frequently visited us this winter. 
 He was never tired of talking to my mother of 
 Bruce : he thought the passages containing the his- 
 tory of Abyssinia, and the details concerning the 
 Queen of Sheba, gave an important attestation to 
 the truth of Scripture history, and afforded a clear 
 light on the rise of many religious customs and 
 doctrines. He was a full believer in the authenticity 
 of Bruce. * 
 
 How little Dr. Priestley anticipated, when he 
 uttered these sentiments, that the day would arrive 
 when Babylon and Nineveh would again be laid 
 open to light, when the hieroglyphics of Egypt 
 would be understood, and Babylon, and Assyria, and 
 Egypt would, as it were, conjointly break the silence 
 of a tomb of forty centuries, and unite their voices to 
 give one concurrent three-fold testimony to Him, 
 proclaimed by Moses to Pharaoh, by Jonah to 
 Y 2 
 
324 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Nineveh, by Daniel to Babylon, even to the Triune 
 living God, the Jehovah of Israel. 
 
 Amongst the circumstances which were a great 
 pleasure to me this winter, I must mention the many 
 presents of books my dear mother gave me, which 
 amounted in all to about four hundred volumes. 
 But the book of all others which I most valued, was 
 a fine copy of Virgil, in Latin, in two large octavo 
 volumes, the type splendid, and enriched with in- 
 teresting notes. She told me that all the books she 
 gave me were mine, to do as I pleased with ; but this 
 one was an especial keepsake, in remembrance of the 
 happy winter we had spent, and as expressing her 
 complete satisfaction in my conduct. Deeply indeed 
 was this book prized by me. 
 
 We w r ere much interested during this winter by a 
 narrative my dear mother began to w r rite, in which 
 she supposed my father, and one of my brothers, his 
 tutor, and a youth who was his servant, to be tra- 
 velling on the Continent, through Holland, France, 
 Switzerland, Italy, and Germany ; and every evening 
 at tea she brought down a letter purporting to be 
 written by one of the party ; and the character of 
 each w r as excellently kept up, giving a vivid descrip- 
 tion of the impression each had resj^ectively received 
 from the incidents of the road and the sights they 
 had seen. How earnestly did we long for the tea- 
 bell, and how many conjectures did we form as to 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 325 
 
 whom the letter would be from, and whence it would 
 be written ; some of us hoping for the accurate infor- 
 mation of a letter from " Papa," others longing for 
 the lively and witty descriptions of my brother, 
 sometimes in verse, and sometimes in prose ; some 
 wishing, and others not quite wishing, for the more 
 erudite and classical epistles of the tutor, and others 
 delicditincj in the amusement of the man-servant's 
 impressions, in letters to his mother and fellow - 
 servants. This was truly a very great delight to us ; 
 how beautifully, and with how much genius did my 
 dear mother write ; and how, in her weak health, did 
 she expend, upon what was to be seen by her 
 children only, a brightness of talent which would 
 have established a brilliant reputation to those who 
 covet such baubles ; but she was ever contented with 
 Icing, and not seeming. Many years after, on a 
 visit to London, she suggested the plan of this 
 book to her cousin Priscilla Wakefield, who adopted 
 it, and published several interesting volumes in con- 
 sequence. 
 
 This whole winter abounded in pleasant things. 
 My dear mother, my governesses, and my masters, 
 commended me most highly for my progress and 
 conduct. In truth, it was my unceasing endeavour 
 to do all that might delight my mother, and doubly 
 as an atonement for my late oifence, yet the burden 
 would not go. There can be no remission of sin 
 
 Y 3 
 
326 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 without humble confession before God and man, nor 
 without a far better satisfaction than man can ever 
 make ; and I now learnt experimentally by the 
 earnest endeavour of many months, and surrounded 
 by all outward prosperity, that the well-doing of one 
 day cannot atone for the sin of another, and that 
 nothing we can do or suffer can really wipe away 
 guilt from the conscience. The sun shone upon me, 
 my path was without stumbling in the sight of men ; 
 but I was weighed down by a heavy burden I could 
 neither lose nor diminish, and which never left me 
 till, like Christian's, it fell off, laid down at the foot 
 of the Cross. 
 
 It is not a matter of speculative opinion with me, 
 but of deep heart-affecting reality, that guilt can 
 neither be removed by our own repentance, nor by 
 austerity of self-inflicted punishment, nor by self- 
 abhorrence, nor yet by all good deeds on our part. 
 One alone, I have found, can pardon sin. One alone 
 can make His voice be heard in the utmost recesses 
 of the dark sepulchre of the natural soul ; and He 
 who condescends to say to the dead, " Awake," says, 
 at the same time, " Arise from the dead, and Christ 
 shall give thee light." These things I believe be- 
 cause I know them, because I have experienced 
 them. 
 
 AVell did I know for many years the bitterness 
 and misery of a sense of unforgiven sin amidst luxury 
 
MARY AXXE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 327 
 
 and wealth ; and well have I since known the joy, 
 the peace, the sunbeam, and the blessing which the 
 God of all mercy, the Saviour of men, can bestow 
 amidst outward trial and straitened circumstances, 
 the infirmities of age, and the still greater pressure 
 of many remaining evils and much unfaithfulness. 
 
 Truly, it is a matter of experience to me, and not 
 of speculation, that that sin over which the blood of 
 Christ has flowed is washed indeed, and when the 
 Saviour of men has made atonement, that atonement, 
 if applied, cleanses indeed. " I love the Lord, because 
 He heard my voice and my supplication ; " "I was 
 brought low, and He helped me." He indeed de- 
 livered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, 
 and will, I trust, deliver my feet from falling. 
 
 The children of Israel had light within their dwel- 
 lings, and they were little sensible to the plagues 
 which raged without. When God does not speak 
 peace, what can give it ? — when He does, who can 
 let it? 
 
 I think the experience of this period of my life has 
 deeply wrought upon my mind as to the value of 
 human opinion. While those around praised me and 
 called me clever, I internally felt myself a fool who 
 was walking as in the dark, and stumbling at every 
 step. 
 
 Towards the end of winter, another element arose 
 which exercised a very powerful influence upon me in 
 
 Y 4 
 
328 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 after years, both in its immediate action, and in its 
 subsequent reaction. 
 
 My dear mother, as I have before observed, was 
 remarkable not only for her taste in the arts, but for 
 her keen perception of the beautiful in literature 
 and poetry. She delighted not only in all our 
 English classic poets, but in French, Latin, and, 
 above all, Italian poetry. Dante, Metastasio, Ari- 
 osto, and Tasso were her daily companions. Yet 
 still more did her lofty and heroic character seem to 
 expand, as in its native element, in the majestic 
 pages of .ZEschylus and Homer. She was, however, 
 unacquainted with Greek ; but was so familiar with 
 the celebrated translations of Potter, of Pope, and 
 of Cowper, that there was scarcely a remarkable 
 passage she could not repeat by heart. These works, 
 and those of our own Milton, were her favourites, 
 and she greatly wished to impart to me the same 
 taste. But my mind was unlike hers. I delighted, 
 indeed, in several of the sublime and devotional 
 passages in Milton, but I could not enter into the 
 awful horrors of his Pandemonium, and I was 
 wearied and repelled by the incongruous mixture of 
 classical and sacred allusions. My dear mother 
 seeing I had but little taste for Milton, soon substi- 
 tuted Pope's Homer, and it became my inseparable 
 companion. The wrath of Achilles, the wisdom of 
 Nestor, the force of Ajax, but above all, the acts 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELPENNINCK. 329 
 
 of Diomed, filled me with delight, and tended not 
 a little to elevate self. Nay, so completely was this 
 warlike poem * the utterance of the pride and self- 
 exaltation of the natural heart, that whole lines, and 
 frequently whole passages, fastened on my memory 
 with the same force as if they had been the 
 original utterance of my own mind. This book was 
 never out of my pocket, except when in my hand ; 
 and the great pleasure I felt in it, seemed to absorb 
 all others. 
 
 During this time my dear mother frequently 
 called me to her on Sundays, and still taught me 
 many of the Scripture prophecies ; and though she 
 no longer examined me, probably because I was 
 older, as to giving an account of what Moravians 
 aptly term my " heart's course " during the week, 
 yet at such times she frequently made me read aloud 
 passages in Scripture, containing moral precepts and 
 rules of life ; such, for example, as the Sermon on 
 the Mount, both in St. Matthew and St. Luke, the 
 Ten Commandments, many parts of the Old Testa- 
 ment, and many of the parables in the Gospels. 
 This reading was still very pleasant to me, and, from 
 old associations, my heart felt a reverence for it, 
 though I no longer could be said to be a real 
 believer in Christianity. 
 
 * It may be noted that Plato, fearful of the Ilomcrie influence, 
 banished poets from his imaginary Republic. 
 
330 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 It so happened that, one afternoon, owing to my 
 father's going out to dinner, I had the treat of 
 dining alone with my dear mother, and passing the 
 whole of the afternoon and evening with her alone. 
 She proposed our spending it over Homer's " Iliad." 
 Well do I remember the pleasure with which I got 
 the maps of Greece and Asia Minor, the Biographical 
 Dictionary, and Pope's Homer, to have a thorough 
 study with her of our favourite author. Many 
 hours passed in which we were completely absorbed, 
 and delightful was it to listen to my mother's solemn, 
 beautiful voice, as she read aloud the most striking 
 passages. I have in my time heard many of the fine 
 readers of the day, Mrs. Siddons, Mrs. Barbauld, 
 Mrs. Jordan, Mr. Wilberforce, and many others, 
 yet I never heard any who appeared to me quite 
 comparable to my mother. Her voice was unrivalled, 
 both as to sweetness, power, flexibility, and justness 
 of musical intonation ; but, above all, her inspiring 
 mind, in which genius blended with good taste, 
 enabled that instrument to be used with perfection. 
 She had the energy which gave the full bearing and 
 force to her subject, and, in that respect, some others 
 whom I have heard equalled her, but she surpassed 
 them in the delicate sense of that which is seemly for 
 the expression of a noble-minded, highly-educated, 
 and refined woman. She read Shakespere, not like 
 Mrs. Siddons, or as if she were Lady Macbeth, but 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 331 
 
 as if she perfectly understood what Lady Macbeth 
 was. She was wont to say, " The pleasure arising 
 from good acting is single, that of hearing good 
 reading is two-fold. The one arises simply from 
 having the part well expressed ; the other has, in ad- 
 dition, that of unfolding the moral and intellectual 
 character of the reader." 
 
 On the occasion to which I have alluded, I seemed 
 to expand to the subject, and gradually to imbibe its 
 full spirit ; so that, when bed-time came, I seemed to 
 wake up, as it were, from the actual scene — from 
 Ulysses, Ajax, and the aged Nestor, wending their 
 way along the sounding shore, from the camp of the 
 Greeks to that of Achilles ; — the regular sound of the 
 billows and the tranquil moonlight were still pre- 
 sent with me, and I went to sleep full of these 
 thoughts. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, and after dinner my 
 dear mother sent for me to repeat and study the 
 " Sermon on the Mount." I entered the room, my 
 imagination still full of the stirring and vivid 
 feelings of the evening before ; the same scenes were 
 before my mind's eye, the same voice seemed to fill 
 my ear ; and now, for the first time in my life, I sen- 
 sibly felt her animated instructions on Saturday 
 form, as it were, an absolutely incompatible counter- 
 current in my mind to that she so earnestly was 
 wont to give me on Sundays. I could not reconcile 
 
332 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 them. My feelings could not run at once into two 
 channels which appeared to me diametrically oppo- 
 site. This passage from Pope still sounded in my 
 ears, and vibrated in my heart : — 
 
 " Tell him, all terms, all commerce, I decline, 
 Nor share his council, nor his battle join ; 
 ******* 
 
 His gifts are hateful : kings of such a kind 
 Stand but as slaves before a noble mind. 
 Not though he proffer' d all himself possest 
 Or all his rapine could from others wrest ; 
 
 ******* 
 
 Though bribes were heaped on bribes, in number more 
 Than dust in fields, or sands along the shore ; 
 Should all these offers for my friendship call ; 
 'Tis he that offers, and I scorn them all." 
 
 Iliad, ix. 489. 
 
 My Scripture lesson was, — 
 
 " If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his 
 fault between thee and him alone : if he shall hear thee, thou hast 
 gained thy brother." — Maith. xviii. 15. 
 
 " How oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him ? 
 till seven times ? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until 
 seven times: but, Until seventy times seven." — Matth. xviii. 21, 22. 
 
 Again my heart responded to the sentiment, — 
 
 " A gen'rous friendship no cold medium knows, 
 Burns with one love, with one resentment glows, 
 One should our int'rests and our passions be ; 
 My friend must hate the man that injures me." 
 
 Iliad, ix. 725. 
 
 My Scripture lesson for that day said, — 
 
 " But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil : but whosoever shall 
 smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." — " Love 
 your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
 you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute 
 
MARY ANNE SCIIIMMELrENNlNCK. 333 
 
 you ; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: 
 for He niaketh His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, 
 and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust." — Matth. v. 39. 
 44, 45. 
 
 The contrast was indeed vivid, not only because 
 of the opposition in the letter, but also because of 
 the full tide of heart and spirit with which I had 
 entered into both. I knew not what to think or 
 feel. Not only the two standard books for my 
 Sunday and week-day studies spoke oppositely, but 
 both the courses of instruction came from the lips of 
 my dear and honoured mother. While I well re- 
 member the bright glow and noble bearing with 
 which she read Pope's Homer, I can also never 
 forget the deep and solemn earnestness with which 
 she enforced the teaching of the Sermon on the 
 Mount, — detachment from sordid worldly cares and 
 anxieties, from the love of display, the forgiveness of 
 injuries, the benefaction to enemies, and indifference 
 to pain and suffering : I could not then understand 
 this contrariety. Nor was I less perplexed with my 
 own contradictory feelings. I felt there was a real 
 elevation and a degree of good mingled in the pagan 
 instruction ; on the other hand, it seemed to vanish 
 like hollow deceitfulness, when I listened to the 
 gospel precepts. It is true the pagan teaching was 
 brilliant and glorious, but the Christian seemed true 
 and refreshing, and I felt it distil upon the heart 
 like dew, cooling the fevered mind, restoring the 
 
334 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 parched soul, and renovating the strength. The 
 pagan instruction I thought incomparably more 
 grand, yet I could not but vaguely feel, that if these 
 principles were really received into the heart and 
 carried out in action, not one kingdom, not one 
 household, not one heart would be at peace with 
 itself. I had, on the other hand, a latent feeling 
 that if the meek and lowly Spirit of Christ to for- 
 bear, and willingness to bear each other's burdens, 
 were transfused into every heart, not only would 
 that heart be at peace with itself, but that the same 
 spirit would gradually pervade the household, the 
 district, the kingdom, and that Christ might therefore 
 well be termed not only the King of Glory, but the 
 Prince of Peace. 
 
 These conclusions, however, I by no means arrived 
 at, at this time, though a dark and confused feeling 
 of them was, I believe, struggling in my mind. I 
 felt the truth of the Christian instruction, but then 
 I could not quite discard the pagan, because I saw 
 that there was allied with it something which was 
 noble and generous. I had then no idea that though 
 a large quantity of sand may contain some gold 
 dust, and that all gold comes nearly or remotely 
 from the same mine, yet that it is necessary to sift 
 the sand in order to retain the pure gold. I saw 
 besides, that the spirit of all the histories I knew of 
 Greece or Rome, Plutarch's Lives, all the political 
 
MARY ANNE SCimiMELPEXNIXCK. 335 
 
 conversation I heard, and all the sympathies of the 
 mass of mankind, seemed enlisted on the side of 
 pagan heroism, and I saw that the tamely bearing of 
 injuries, forbearance, &c, so far from being prac- 
 tically recognised as virtues, were utterly contemned; 
 and I felt in my own heart a secret preference for, 
 and gratification in, what appeared the nobler side, 
 and a shrinking from that which seemed abject and 
 mean, and from that day my whole mind was 
 changed. I had always had much latent pride, but 
 now it stalked forth boldly. 
 
 I afterwards learned to see, with respect to my dear 
 mother, that her mind in both these instructions was 
 one. In the pagan teaching, it fastened solely on 
 what was great and generous. All that was little or 
 revengeful, she really passed by. Again, in the 
 Christian instruction, she seized on the contempt of 
 the world, the generous forgiveness, the self-sacrifice, 
 which was a part of her nature, and suited to the 
 greatness and strength of her mind. With me, the 
 case was widely different. I not only felt the healing 
 power of the Christian doctrine, but in my weakness 
 it was as a staff, a shelter, a guide; it addressed 
 itself to the tender feelings of my heart ; its mercy, 
 its pathos, its forgiveness, its long forbearance were 
 suited to my need. 
 
 I now see also the reason for the sort of hitch in 
 my mind, respecting the beauties of pagan literature. 
 
336 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 Long since it has been shown me, that " there is 
 but One good, that is, God ;" that there is but one 
 beautiful, that is, the reflection of God ; and just "as 
 in all heresies, there must be a portion of doctrinal 
 truth, however travestied, to form a cement for the 
 false incorporated with it, so in all pagan taste there 
 must be a semblance, it may be a travestie or carica- 
 ture, of some of the Divine perfections, to impart 
 life to the false and poisonous principles incorporated 
 therewith. Now I apprehend that the principle in- 
 corporated with the pagan idea of glory, is that of 
 the Divine power and energy of will, stupendous in 
 itself, but in pagan literature shining forth through 
 fogs of pride, selfishness, and revenge. 
 
 O my God ! ever grant to us, when either doc- 
 trines perplex the intellect, or tastes entangle the 
 heart, at once to go to Christ, and, at the foot of the 
 cross, to beseech Him to bring us out of the miry 
 clay, to show us that which is according to His truth, 
 in simplicity and disentanglement from error, and to 
 enable us to cast away all else with full purpose of 
 heart. If it regard doctrinal truth, may we never 
 be like the man who, stumbling on the treasure, 
 thought of no other plan than buying the whole field 
 with all its thorns and thistles ; but may we be like 
 the wise merchantman, used to the value of pearls, 
 who having found the one of great price, rescued it 
 from the deep, cast away the encircling weeds, and 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 337 
 
 even the shell to which it seemed attached, and kept 
 the pearl alone. 
 
 I have spoken of the evils of classical literature, 
 as respects its heroic form ; but though, of course, I 
 was sheltered by my age and sex from many of the 
 evils which belong to what may be called its senti- 
 mental phase, I was yet sensible that the effect of 
 much that I read in the course of these studies, was 
 rather to enervate than to brace the mind, and was 
 calculated rather to render the soul passive to im- 
 pressions, than to impart the power of resisting 
 them, rather fitted to produce the indolent Sybarite, 
 than the brave and conflicting soldier. Both the 
 heroic and the sentimental phase exercised great 
 power over me. It was not the words, but the pre- 
 vailing spirit, which was objectionable. Expurgate 
 as you will, the deep underlying principles are, on 
 the one hand pride, self-reliance, wrath, revenge ; 
 and on the other side, self-indulgence and enervating 
 luxury; garlanded with beautiful flowers as it might 
 be, the baleful morass beneath sends forth perpe- 
 tually its malaria. And in my warning to others, I 
 wish to set forth, that it is not so much actual vice 
 to which I refer, as the cultivation and fashioning of 
 that tone of mind which must prove its hotbed. 
 
 I was a child, I had no self-knowledge, and no 
 experience. I therefore repeated with enthusiasm 
 the aphorism of Zeno, " Man tramples pain beneath 
 
 VOL. i. z 
 
338 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 his feet," and I forgot that the very man who uttered 
 it, hanged himself because he broke his finger. 
 Again, in my antagonistic mood, I continually re- 
 peated the well-known adage, 
 
 " Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes 
 Emollit mores nee sinit esse feros," 
 
 and I forgot that Nero, the finest musician and 
 architect of his age, was a monster, whose atrocities 
 are still a prodigy to the world. 
 
 As both phases of pagan art and literature, in de- 
 spite of their gradually accumulative evils, were yet 
 originally founded on a travestie of the essentially 
 noble and good, it might be truly said of both, that 
 the light shone in darkness, and " the darkness com- 
 prehended it not ; " and it was the very circumstance 
 of this mingling of some portion of truth with deep 
 and fatal error, which rendered it at once so attrac- 
 tive and so injurious. I felt there was a truth in 
 each which I did not like to throw away, but also 
 there was combined with it much that I doubted 
 might not be genuine. There was an internal voice 
 which told me that "all that glittered was not gold." 
 O what a mercy would it have been to me at this 
 period, if I could have had but an hour's conversa- 
 tion with one who really knew my difficulties ; who 
 could have helped me to disentangle them, and draw 
 my feet out of the net. How many years of doubt, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 330 
 
 of unhappiness, and of mistake, do I owe to the 
 want of this aid, and to the having been obliged to 
 puzzle out every thing for myself, at the cost of 
 bitter experience, instead of having been helped by 
 wise and Christian counsel ! 
 
 To my dear mother, indeed, I could often speak, 
 so far as to ask her opinion on many subjects; but 
 then her answers were often noble but unbending 
 replies, the austerity of which seemed to my heart 
 like a beautiful icicle, clear, brilliant, but cold. 
 
 The utterance of my sorrowful heart was often in 
 some such words as these, " Has God, if there be 
 such a Being, sent man, wretched man, into the 
 conflict of this miserable world, without one ground 
 of hope, one solid basis on which to plant his foot, 
 one bright beam to cheer his desolate heart, or one 
 guide to lead him through the labyrinth?" I 
 turned from all my once fair hopes, as from the 
 view of an illusive mirage of living water and bright 
 habitable land, which only rendered the reality of 
 the desert around me more full of anguish and 
 terror. 
 
 I have ever found that though revolving varie- 
 gated coloured lights are praised for lighthouses by 
 our seamen, yet that in the actual voyage of life we 
 need one steadfast and unvarying beacon, founded, 
 like the Eddystone Lighthouse, on an impregnable 
 rock, and which casts one expanse of broad unvary- 
 z 2 
 
C40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 ing light over the surges of conflicting billows 
 below ; and thus, in after years, how truly have I 
 myself felt and observed in others, that one text of 
 Scripture that rests on the truth of God, is potent 
 to rescue the soul amidst all its aberrations, when 
 ten thousands of human theories utterly fail. 
 
 I had experienced, in earlier childhood, that it 
 was a blessed thing even to seek the Lord in any 
 degree. All around me I had once felt as a home 
 prepared by Him ; and whilst I enjoyed the face 
 of nature as His bounty, I indulged a hope that 
 the crowning mercy of all, the knowledge of Him- 
 self, might perhaps one day be vouchsafed to me. 
 Therefore, I took pleasure in the study and con- 
 templation of His external works, because I thought 
 to see in them His character and His signature. I 
 had also great delight in retiring into the solitude of 
 my own heart, when I thought His voice was to be 
 heard, that He might teach me of Himself. 
 
 But now it was far otherwise. I dreaded solitude 
 above all things. I hated to retire into the chamber 
 of my heart, for God was not there. I became list- 
 less and indifferent, without hope. Hence ended all 
 laborious study, all healthful exercise of mind, and 
 thus was I a prey to hopeless despondency; and in 
 maturer years, I have never seen the worldly, the 
 frivolous, and the dissipated, without heartfelt com- 
 miseration and compassion ; for the heart of man 
 
MARY ANNE 8CHIMMELPENNINCK. 341 
 
 abhors a vacuum ; it must be tenanted by the pre- 
 sence of the Holy God, or by that of the evil spirit. 
 
 However multiform the underlying strata may be, 
 either Heaven or Hell reigns over all, and thus, 
 wherever peace is wanting, restlessness begins ; 
 when interest ends, amusement must be found to 
 supply its place ; like the poor savages, who not 
 having the bread-fruit or the corn to satisfy their 
 hunger, are compelled to feed on earth and dust. 
 Such was the avidity with which, in proportion as 
 eternal objects became dim, earthly ones rose to 
 preternatural proportion and vividness ; and, as my 
 mental occupations became tasteless, childish amuse- 
 ments which I did not really value, became indis- 
 pensable. 
 
 I have before mentioned that Mr. and Mrs. Watt 
 were amongst our most intimate friends, and con- 
 stantly formed a part of our social circle. They 
 then lived, not in the handsome mansion and domain 
 they afterwards occupied, but in a very moderate 
 house in the suburbs of Birmingham, at Harper's 
 Hill. In this house we were frequent visitors, and 
 there Mr. and Mrs. Watt resided with a very simple 
 establishment of two maids and a man-servant, all 
 brought up under their own eye, and trained by 
 Mrs. Watt in the thrifty and far-seeing habits of the 
 most enlightened Scotch housewifery ; besides which 
 they had two little pug-dogs, which were likewise 
 
342 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 taught by Mrs. Watt never to cross the unsullied 
 flags of the hall without wiping their feet on the 
 mats, placed at every door of entrance. 
 
 They had one son and one daughter. The son, 
 about thirteen, named Gregory, was a youth of very 
 precocious talents ; the daughter was a pretty -look- 
 ing girl, of no very decided character ; but I 
 must describe the house and family more particu- 
 larly. 
 
 Mr. Watt, deeply absorbed in his philosophical 
 pursuits, was simple in all his habits. He had not 
 the domestic cheerfulness of Dr. Priestley, but he was 
 ever ready to give information, even to the most 
 ignorant ; and often do I remember his calling me to 
 sit upon his knee, whilst he explained the different 
 principles of the hurdy-gurdy or monochord, the 
 harp, and the piano, or the construction of a simple 
 whistle or Pan's-pipe, or of an organ ; but he never 
 failed to tell me, that the hurdy-gurdy was the most 
 venerable in point of antiquity, being no other than 
 an adaptation of the celebrated monochord of Pytha- 
 goras. When I recollect Mr. Watt's philosophic 
 mind, and calm truth and loving-kindness, I have 
 often thought that Miss Edgeworth, in her story of 
 Harry and Lucy, had, in the character of Harry, de- 
 picted what she conceived the childhood of Mr. Watt 
 might have been. 
 
 The mental fatigue of Mr. Watt at this period, 
 
MARY ANNE SCHIMMELPENNINCK. 343 
 
 was often so great, that I have heard he required 
 from nine to eleven hours' sleep to recruit his powers, 
 and his evenings were uniformly spent in some light 
 amusing reading. Mrs. Watt was exactly the need- 
 ful help to her scientific husband, to whom she was 
 wholly devoted, and whose fame she considered her 
 crowning glory. 
 
 It is remarkable that when Mrs. Watt was a little 
 girl of three or four years old, and Mr. Watt was 
 mourning the loss of his first wife, she came up to 
 his knee, and looking in his face, told him not to 
 grieve, for she would be his little wife and make him 
 happy, and so, some twenty years afterwards, she 
 actually became. Mr. Watt had one son and one 
 daughter by his first marriage. The daughter died 
 early, and the son was on the Continent, so that my 
 acquaintance was with the children of the second 
 marriage. 
 
 Gregory, as I have said, was a boy of talent, but 
 his high estimate of himself made him at this period 
 any thing but a pleasant, though often an informing 
 companion. His sister Jessy, he held, as he did all 
 girls, in supreme contempt ; and of this I, both a girl 
 and his sister's frequent companion, was a large par- 
 taker. Nor did he trouble himself to conceal his 
 feelings. I became a good deal acquainted with 
 Jessy Watt, and used very often to be allowed to 
 visit her ; and though, at such times, Gregory's salu- 
 
344 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF 
 
 tation to his sister and me often was, " Girls are in- 
 sufferable bores; I wonder what use they are in 
 creation ; no woman ever yet had sense to tune a 
 harpsichord ; " yet, notwithstanding this, he was very 
 glad to get our help in his amusements. 
 
 In one part of a very pleasant garden behind the 
 house, was a clay-pit, where he would send us to dig 
 out clay, and then get us to help him in making 
 models of fortifications. I had read at my grand- 
 father's the volume of Rapin's History of England, 
 containing the wars of King William in the Low 
 Countries, in which the plans of all the fortifications 
 are given. These, at Gregory's desire, I was to 
 trace on silver paper, and numerous were the 
 fortresses we formed from them, in various beds of 
 the garden, to the gardener's great annoyance. I 
 loved to have explained to me the bastion, the 
 ravelin, the redoubt, the citadel, the curtain, and 
 various other things, on which Gregory Watt used 
 to descant, as I thought, very learnedly ; and nothing- 
 pleased me more than when, in two opposite beds, 
 he had raised one fortification on Coehorn's system, 
 and the other on Vauban's, and then entered into 
 their comparative merits. After we had helped him 
 for two or three hours, and were quite fatigued with 
 such hard work, he would turn round, meaning to be 
 very gracious, and say, " Well, though women are 
 fools, they might, perhaps, be of some use, if they 
 
MARY ANNE SCI1IMMELFENNINCK. 345 
 
 were always directed by men." And on one occa- 
 sion he turned to me and said, " Do you not see that 
 the only use of women is to do the will of men?" I 
 answered, " And one other use, I think, is, to have 
 that patience with men, which they never would have 
 with each other ! " 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
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