Letters on the Improvement of the Mind, Addressed to a Lady — Inside the Classic

Mulso was gratified by an interview with Dr. Johnson, with whom she before had no personal acquaintance. Her whole account of this interview may be fitly told here. 'Mr. Johnson' (Miss Mulso is writing to Miss Carter) 'was very communicative and entertaining, and did me the honour to address most of his discourse to me. I had the assurance to dispute with him on the subject of human malignity[3]; and wondered to hear a man, who by his actions shows so much benevolence, maintain that the human heart is naturally malevolent, and that all the benevolence we see, in the few who are good, is acquired by reason and religion. You may believe I entirely disagreed with him, being, as you know, fully persuaded that benevolence, or the love of our fellow-creatures, is as much a part of our nature as self-love; and that it cannot be suppressed, or extinguished, without great violence from the force of other passions. I told him I suspected him of these bad notions from some of his Ramblers, and had accused him to you; but that you persuaded me I had mistaken his sense. To which he answered, that if he had betrayed such sentiments in his Ramblers, it was not with design; for that he believed _the doctrine of human malevolence, though a true one, is not an useful one_, and ought not to be published to the world. Is there any truth,' subjoins Miss Mulso, 'that would not be useful, or that should not be known?'

The misfortune is, that, on such topics as this, which must implicate the character of man, generally as well as personally, each one writes as each sees things, and not as things might or ought to be seen. Establishing our individual experience as the criterion of universal opinion, we are too apt to speak of the world as we find it; and to conclude, that what happens to us must of necessity happen to others, and that uniformity of experience will terminate in similarity of decision. Perhaps truth is still clear of extremes. Man is not so bad as some state him to be; nor is man so good as some think him to be.

Miss Mulso is now to be known as Mrs. Chapone. Perceiving that her inclination to matrimony was decisive, Mr. Mulso, though he still objected to the match, consented to such arrangements, towards the close of 1760, as to admit of the union, in one day, of his eldest son, Thomas, with Miss Prescott, and of his only daughter, Hester, with Mr. Chapone. Living with her father, who was indulgently attached to her, Miss Mulso had previously been permitted to enjoy, fairly and fully, the society of Mr. Chapone.[4]

'Give me your congratulations,' writes the now Mrs. Chapone, to Miss Carter, from town, December the 9th, 1760, 'my dear friend; but, as much for my brother and friend (Mr. Thomas Mulso and Miss Prescott) as for myself; for, in truth, I could not have enjoyed my own happiness in an union with the man of my choice, had I been forced to leave them in the same uncomfortable state of tedious and almost hopeless expectation in which they have suffered so long. I shall rejoice to hear that you are coming to town, and shall hope for many a comfortable tête-à-tête with you in my lodgings in Carey Street; for there I must reside till Mr. Chapone can get a house that suits him, which is no easy matter, as he is so confined in point of situation,' &c. &c. Pleasing as might be the prospect of her marriage pleasures, it will soon be seen that, as Mrs. Barbauld wrote, 'her married life was short, and,' short as it was, 'not very happy!'

Scarcely is Mrs. Chapone first settled, when _she seems to complain of being in lodgings_; and, when her husband has taken a house, _still she regrets living_ in Arundel Street, as this is '_very wide from_ Clarges Street, where' she supposes that her friend _Miss Carter's_ '_residence_ is fixed.' Even now, dissatisfied with 'a life of hurry and engagement,' she puts 'the drudgery of answering all the congratulatory letters,' heaped on them as newly married, 'upon Mr. Chapone; who, _poor man_,' says his wife, 'was _forced to humour_ me _a little at first_.' Here is not the worst. '_I have more hours to myself_,' she adds, '_than I wish for_; for business usually allows me _very little of my husband's company_, except at meals.' Instead of 'many a comfortable tête-à-tête with' Miss Carter, whom she assures of her 'most perfect dissent' from the maxim of Johnson's school, 'that a married woman can have no friendship but with her husband,' Chapone himself, pleased with Miss Carter's old friendship, is represented as wondering why she never visits his wife. 'Surely, my dear,' he would say to her, 'if Miss Carter loved you, she would sometimes have spent a day with you; and then I should have known her better. _If ever she loved you, I fancy she left it off on your being married._' Mrs. Chapone's letters may explain the absence of Miss Carter. What friend would be in haste to run to her, who tells that she 'lived in dirt,' and in 'puddling lodgings;' and who adds, 'at last,' that she reckons herself to be but 'tolerably settled?'

Lengthened courtships too seldom conclude with happy marriages. Six years of the lives of one pair, 1754 to 1760, was by far too long to make love. Our choice may prove to be our lot, just when our lot is no more our choice.

Miss Mulso was also more than old enough for Mrs. Chapone. When women are of disputatious dispositions[5], fixed in their notions, and do not like learned husbands[6], because they may hope to rule simple ones, they should marry before the age of thirty-three.

Poverty is inimical to felicity; but marriage penury, worst of woes, is inevitably calamitous. Pecuniary difficulties long protracted the union of Miss Mulso with Mr. Chapone, who at last died in embarrassing circumstances. Much may be borne; but to court long, wait for wealth, wed late, and fare ill, seem more than the griefs to which flesh is heir.

In her advice to a beloved niece, and in the letter to a new-married lady, there are passages perhaps referable to the fate of Mrs. Chapone. 'Young women,' she observes, '_know so little_ of the world, especially _of the other sex_, and _such pains are usually taken to deceive them_, that they are every way unqualified to choose for themselves, &c. Many a heart-ache shall _I_ feel for _you_, my sweet girl, if I live a few years longer[7]!' Equally impressive is her delineation of matrimonial bickerings. 'Whatever may be said of the _quarrels of lovers_, (believe _me_!) _those of married people have always dreadful consequences_, especially if they are not very short and very slight. If _they_ are suffered to _produce bitter or contemptuous expressions_, or betray _habitual dislike_ in one party _of any thing in the person or mind_ of the other, _such wounds can scarcely ever be thoroughly healed_: and though regard to principle and character lays the married couple under a necessity to make up the breach as well as they can, yet is their affiance in each other's affection so rudely shaken in such conflicts, that it can hardly ever be perfectly fixed again. _The painful recollection of what is passed, will often intrude upon the tenderest hours_; and every trifle will awaken and renew it. You must, _even now_, (it is to a lady _newly married_ that Mrs. C. is addressing herself) be particularly on your guard against _this_ source of misery.'

Within the short space of ten months after marriage, Mr. Chapone, whose health could not have been good, was seized by a fever, which, in about a week, terminated his mortal career. Though his illness was short, and thought fatal at first, Mrs. Chapone was not with him for five days before _his death_, 'as her presence was judged to be very hurtful to him!' She then heard of his death 'with _her accustomed meekness_;' and, continues Miss Burrows, writing to Miss Carter, September the 22d, 1761, 'you would hardly believe me were I to describe to you _her calmness and composure_,' &c., or, 'half _the noble things she says and does_,' &c. '_She suffered herself_,' again writes Miss Burrows, October 5, 1761, '_to be the most consoled_, by the kindness of her friends, _I ever saw any body in her situation_.' Mrs. Chapone was yet for some time ill, on the death of Mr. Chapone; and she found some other difficulties[8] against which to bear up. Circumstances shortly after induced her to retire into lodgings upon a small but decent income, where, cultivating her connections, she contrived to preserve her independence and respectability. Her small property was soon augmented by the death of her father, who did not survive her husband quite two years.

Mrs. Chapone now spent much of her time with friends. Dr. John Thomas, her maternal uncle, being then Bishop of Winchester, she was always welcome either at Farnham Castle, or at Winchester House. Of her various letters from Farnham Castle, the following one, relating to royalty, is sufficiently interesting to find its place here. It must be remembered, that the Bishop had been preceptor to our late and venerable King.--'Mr. Buller went to Windsor on Saturday,' writes Mrs. Chapone to Mr. Burrows, August 20, 1778, 'saw the King, who enquired much about the Bishop; and hearing that he would be eighty-two next Monday, "Then," said he, "I will go and wish him joy." "And I," said the Queen, "will go too." Mr. B. then dropped a hint of the additional pleasure it would give the Bishop if he could see the Princes. "_That_," said the King, "requires contrivance; but, if I can manage it, we will _all_ go".' ... Monday morning, a little after eleven o'clock, 'came the King and Queen in their phaeton, three coaches and six, and one coach and four, with a large retinue of servants. They were all conducted into the great drawing-room, by Mr. and Mrs. Buller, where, after paying their compliments to the Bishop and Mrs. Thomas, those of the first column remained there to breakfast; those of the second column left the room, and were led by Mrs. T. to the dressing-room, where Mrs. T. and I were, and where I made tea for them. After our breakfast was over, as well as that of the upper house, the royal guests[9] came to visit me in the dressing-room. The King sent the Princes in to pay their compliments to _Mrs. Chapone_: himself, he said, was an old acquaintance. Whilst the Princes were speaking to me, Mr. Arnold, sub-preceptor, said, "These gentlemen are well acquainted with a certain Ode[10] prefixed to Mrs. Carter's Epictetus, if you know any thing of it." Afterwards the King came and spoke to us; and the Queen led the Princess Royal to me, saying, "This is a young lady, who, I hope, has profited much by your instructions[11]. She has read them more than once, and will read them oftener;" and the Princess assented to the praise which followed, with a very modest air. She has a sweet countenance, and simple unaffected manners. I was pleased with all the Princes, but particularly with Prince William, who is little of his age, but so sensible and engaging, that he won the Bishop's heart; to whom he particularly attached himself, and would stay with him while all the rest ran about the house. His conversation was surprisingly manly and clever for his age: yet with the young Bullers he was quite the boy; and said to John Buller, by way of encouraging him to talk, "Come, we are both boys, you know." All of them showed affectionate respect to the Bishop; the Prince of Wales pressed his hand so hard that he hurt it. Mrs. B----'s two girls were here, and the eldest son, and great notice was taken of them all. The youngest girl, a comical natural little creature between eight and nine, says she thinks it hard that Princes may not marry whom they please; and seems not without hopes, that, if it were not for this restriction, the Prince of Wales might prove a lover of hers.'

Dr. Thomas, to whom these royal honours were thus paid, died in May 1781, at the age of eighty-six years.

Several months of the year 1766 were passed by Mrs. Chapone at the parsonage of her second brother, John, at Thornhill, near Wakefield, in Yorkshire. It was then she conceived that partiality for her niece, his eldest daughter, to which society is indebted for her 'Letters on the Improvement of the Mind.'

Having become acquainted with Mrs. Montagu some time in 1762, she about eight years after joined her in her tour into Scotland; a tour from which she derived both information and amusement, and which her pen has described with fidelity and interest. 'I am grown as bold as a lion with Mrs. Montagu,' asserts Mrs. Chapone, two years before their tour, to Mrs. Carter, 'and fly in her face whenever I have a mind: in short, I enjoy her society with the most perfect _goût_; and find my love for her takes off my fear and awe, though my respect for her character continually increases.' Mrs. Montagu's great friendship was found eminently conducive to the welfare of Mrs. Chapone. It added to her sources of intellectual gratification, extended the old circle of her acquaintance, and emboldened and encouraged her to submit her writings to the world.

We are now to consider Mrs. Chapone's literary performances; which, following the order of publication, consist of

Letters on the Improvement of the Mind; 1773.

Miscellanies, in Prose and Verse; 1775.

Posthumous Works; two volumes, 1804.

These latter volumes contain Mrs. Chapone's Correspondence with Mr. Richardson, on Filial Obedience; a Matrimonial Creed, sent by her to him; Letters to her friends; some Fugitive Poetry; and 'An Account of her _Life and Character_, drawn up _by her own Family_.' Dismissing the consideration of its partiality, this account, justly so called, has no claim to the character of biography.

Her 'Letters on the Improvement of the Mind' owed much of their early success to the talents and kindness of Mrs. Montagu. 'The bookseller,' writes their Author, July the 20th, 1773, 'is preparing the second edition with all haste, the whole of the first being gone out of his hands; which, considering that he printed off fifteen hundred at first, is an extraordinary quick sale. _I attribute this success principally to Mrs. Montagu's name, and patronage_,' &c. More of this is told in the Dedication of the work to her. 'I believe you (Mrs. Montagu) are persuaded that I (Mrs. Chapone) never entertained a thought of appearing in public, when the desire of being useful to one dear child, in whom I take the tenderest interest[12], induced me to write the following letters: perhaps it was the partiality of friendship which so far biassed your judgment as to make you think them capable of being more extensively useful, and warmly to recommend the publication of them. If,' proceeds the author, 'you will allow me to add that _some strokes of your elegant pen_ have corrected these Letters, I may hope _they will be received with an attention_ which will insure a candid judgment from the reader; and, perhaps, will enable them to _make some useful impressions_ on those to whom they are now particularly offered.'

Notwithstanding their intrinsic excellence, various circumstances co-operated to give to her Letters immediate popularity. Besides the beginning preference for books on education, epistolary composition, the style of her work, was then in very general estimation. It was the style to which the volumes of Richardson, the correspondence of Pope, the letters of Chesterfield and of Orrery, had familiarized the public mind. Nor could expectation have been indifferent to any production from the pen of one who was the friendly pupil of Samuel Richardson; in favour of whom the discerning part of readers were already prepossessed, by the commendation he had bestowed on her talents, and the assiduity with which he had cultivated her correspondence. What might not be hoped from a lady, who, when not much above twenty years of age, was considered qualified to controvert with him the subject of paternal authority and filial obedience? But, if admiration had been excited, it was only in order to be gratified. Mrs. Chapone did not disappoint the expectations entertained concerning Miss Mulso.

It is the imperishable honour of Mrs. Chapone, that the foundation of _her_ temple of education is on the rock, and not in the sands; that the superstructure is therefore not only beautiful, but lasting. On the being of a God, she fixes the tottering hopes of mere mortality: and by his Revealed Will would direct its steps, to certainty, happiness, and glory. Nor has she been unsuccessful in displaying the benevolent attributes of Deity, and in exciting the gratitude of the heart towards him. Without impeaching his justice, she has exalted his mercy; without diminishing the awe, she has increased the fervency of pious adoration; without depreciating prayer, she has insisted on a spirit of thanksgiving. Devotion, in her view, becomes attractive as well as important. We love, while we obey; while we tremble, we rejoice. Resting the ground-work of all morality on religion, _assent_ is insisted upon prior to _investigation_; not that the latter is excluded. Since, however, we are compelled to _act_ before we become qualified to _think_, it is of the utmost importance that some standard be established in the mind, for the regulation of the conduct. Religion supplies this deficiency. Its penalties and rewards are offered, at a time when we are principally governed by our hopes or fears; and are, indeed, incapable of being acted upon by abstracted considerations of right and wrong.

Of the early _historical_ parts of the Old Testament, Mrs. Chapone speaks with the commendation they will always obtain from discriminating minds. Nothing in profane history is equal to their beautiful simplicity, their affecting minuteness. They are not sufficiently studied.

On the scope of the Gospel, as delivered in the New Testament, it is justly affirmed--'The whole tenor of the Gospel is to offer us every help, direction, and motive, that can enable us to attain that degree of perfection, on which depends our eternal good.' Exception must nevertheless be taken to a few epithets, by which she endeavours to picture a future state of blessedness; as, 'the richest imagination can paint:' for, what imagination shall paint that which 'it hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive?'

Letters the Fourth and Fifth, _On the Regulation of the Heart and Affections_, display considerable knowledge of human nature, exhibit high reasoning powers on the part of the writer, and are fraught with excellent moral distinctions. The fifth, however, owing to the subjects it embraces, is particularly valuable to the sex to whom it is addressed. This encomium will apply to her sentiments _On Household Economy_, and _On Deportment towards Servants_. The course of _Studies_ and _Accomplishments_ recommended by her, perhaps, still includes all that is essential.

Unornamental, but not ungraceful, Mrs. Chapone's style, though plain, is deserving of commendation. If there be one main fault in it, one reigning vice, it is that it abounds with parentheses, which tend to obscure it.

The success of her Letters is stated by herself to have been the source of much good to her: she who, only ten years before, declared that 'this world had nothing for her but a few friends,' who owns that 'a certain weariness of life, and a sense of insignificance and insipidity,' did then 'deject' her, now feels that the success of her writings appeased 'that uneasy sense of helplessness and insignificancy which often depressed and afflicted her.' Her work gave her some tie to the world. Her intellectual existence, her new life, succeeded to her sympathetic state.

Of her next work, the 'Miscellanies,' not much need be said. Unqualified in her admiration of the author's abilities, Mrs. Barbauld seems to labour to explain the unpopularity of this publication. The toil was not worth the pains. Excepting the _Letter to a New-married Lady_, and _Three Essays_, the contents of this volume did not authorize the distinction to which friendship conceived it to be entitled.