Memorials of the Mind and Heart of Ellen Freeman

Chapter I

1837-8-9. Touches and Fragments of Autobiography, being Passages from Journal and a Letter 11

Chapter II

1840-1-2. Passages from Letters and Journal. — Essay : On Delicacy of Mind ... 49

Chapter III

1843. Extracts from Letters. — Essays : On Sensibility and Irritability ; The Gospel Feminine in its Doctrine, Spirit, and Influence ; Review of Miss Bremers' " Neighbours," and " Home ;" On the true Purpose of Prayer. — Lines to her Husband on his Birthday 67

Chapter IV

1844. Extracts from Letters aud Journal. — Essays: A few Holes in "Stockings to Mend;" Strictures on V.'s Rousseau; A Rejoinder on Rousseau; Attempt to answer Queries of E. M. F CONTENTS.

Chapter V

1845. PAGE Extracts from Journal and Letters. — Essays : On Coarse Words, &c. ; On Confidence in our Fellow-creatures ; Her Half-chapter in " Human Nature, a Tale of Home's Nest." — Notes of a Week's Ramble in the Isle of Jersey. — Stanzas to her Mother 117

Chapter VI

1846. Journal. — Extracts and Quotations from Letters. — Essays : On the essential Connection of Principle and Practice, considered as Cause and Effect ; Ippolito Pindemonti (translation) on the Pleasures of a Country Life ; Absent Friends ; Friendly Strictures on " Unus " 143

Chapter VII

1847. A Journal Extract. — Stray Thoughts from a Note-book, on Anger, Manners, Bulwer's " Zanoni," Seasons' Influence, &c. — A Chapter for "Human Nature, a Tale of Home's Nest." — Stanzas On Uncle W. H. F. — Letter to a Pupil- Assistant. — The Relic of the Wreck 174 (If AFTER VIII. 1848. Essays : Musical Notes ; Thoughts on Power and its proper Exercise ; On Education as a "Profession." — Journal continued. — Education per Rail. —The Moral of Letters.— Stray Thoughts from Note-Book . . . .187

Chapter IX

1849. Extracts from Journal.— Thoughts on the Fifth of November.— Letter lo a Pupil-Assistant on a Sister's Death. — Stray Thoughts CONTENTS. V 250

Chapter X

1850. paob Review of " The Roman," a Dramatic Poem ; by Sydney Yendys. — Thoughts during Sickness. — Journal resumed. — Thoughts on our Present Position and Claims as a Church. — The First Fire. — Honorary Secretary's Circular, College of Preceptors. — Stray Thoughts 224

Chapter XI

1851. Letters to her Aunt E . — Notes for a Review of Newman's Book on " Tlie Soul," &c— Cowper and Keats compared. — On the Culture of Taste as a Duty. — Her Journal, concluded. — Note to her Mother. — End ITist of subscribers. Mrs. and Misses Coates ...... 20 copies. Mr. and Mrs. Robinson . . . . . . 20 ,, Mr. and Mrs. Teulon 20 ,, Mr. and Mrs. Tidmarsh 10 ,, Friends at Battle . . . . . . . 7 „ Messrs. James ........ 6 ,, Mr. and Mrs. J. Dobell 4 ,, Mr. and Mrs. C. Wilkinson 4 ,, Mr. Frederick Mott 3 ,, Mrs. W. H. Freeman 2 ,, Mr. D. J. Liston 2 ,, Mr. D. Harwood 2 ,, Mrs. G. Fordham 1 , Mr. H. Fordham ....... 1 ,, Mr. and Mrs. Walbey 1 „ Mr. A. J. Mott 1 Mr. H. B. Dobell 1 „ Mr. W. Titford 1 „ Mr. S. T. Dobell 1 ,, Mr. J. Carter 1 ,, Mr. W. Wilkinson ....... 1 ,, Mr. Stevens 1 >, Mr. John Hall 1 „ Mr. B. Dobell 1 ,, Mr. Mitchell 1 ., Vlii LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.

Mr. Hughes 1 copy. Mr. Commander . . . . . ■ ■ 1 >. Miss H. Wilkinson 1 ,. Mrs. Turner . . . . . . . . 1 ,, Mrs. Sharpe . . . . . • . 1 ., Mrs. W. Jolly 1 „ A few Friends at St. John's Square . . . : 1 each. NOTICE TO THE READER. It is only natural to suppose that some who view this miscel laneous volume will ask why its contents were printed, seeing that no such name as Edgeworth, Martineau, Somerville, Strickland or Ellis lends its attraction to the title. By way of reply, it is enough to say, most of the essays, poems, &c, never were written with a view to publication beyond the circuit of a " Monthly Manuscript Magazine". Some few, however, have already appeared in print; namely, one in the "Leicester Magazine," one or two in the "Educational Times," and three or four in Mrs. Ellis's "Morning Call."

The papers of Mrs. Freeman, whence the contents (except the letters borrowed from intimate friends) are gathered, had been left unconditionally at her husband's disposal ; and even to him the Journal had been a sealed book. The reverently affectionate desires of mourning relatives and friends sum moned her manuscripts from the privacy in which they had reposed. The selection is sent to press with the cordial good will, unfeigned gratitude, and personal responsibility of her executor, who begs the reader kindly to note, that this book is not a "publication." 8, Grove Terrace, Kentish Town, May, 1853. B Delineations of character, especially if drawn by contemporaries, are seldom without partiality or pretentiousness, and seldom, it is to be feared, without something akin to hypocrisy under the guise or the guidance of intense love or of inveterate aversion; and, where a loving regret thinks the unspoken, unwritten epitaph of a very dear lost one, words are apt to become idle, even if they escape the verdict of partiality or hypocrisy.

Again, the dangers of unfaithful portraiture are increased in proportion to the distance or the nearness of attachment and affinity, as well as of time and place. Such considerations might well deter the compiler of the following pages from attempting a biographical sketch of any person ; and, above all others, of one whose life was of such transparent simplicity and sincerity that, while it precludes the subtilties of biographical speculation, it affords, in the transcripts of thought and feeling which are here committed to the press, its own safest, kindest, soundest exposition. To those friends who knew Ellen Freeman — in other words, to all who knew her, for enemies she had none, and even acquaintances preferred to be called her friends — any prolix details of birth, parentage, and education would be super fluous ; to general readers comparatively uninteresting, and to the writer of these lines would appear out of character with a volume designed chiefly, if not completely, for private circulation.

Yet there will be found, among the essays, extracts, &c, thus presented to view, allusions and observa tions, which to many sympathising readers would be pain fully unintelligible, unless some undisguised particulars were b INTROHUCTORY SKETCH. given of her unusally marked attachments, and, not least among these, of her cherished religious associations. Ellen Freeman, born May 15th, 1818, was the daughter of William and Mary Ann Coates, and the grand-daughter of Samuel and Mary Thompson, and thus imbibed from her earliest dawn os' thought those dews of inexhaustible refresh ment which liberty, civil and religious, shed almost super abundantly upon the hearts and minds of those of her kindred who bore her own and her mother's maiden names ; and, her whole girlhood being passed under an affectionate home-education, altogether without school pupilage, kept those quickening parental influences almost uninterruptedly at work.

Before tuition, however, began its holy work, constitutional predispositions towards a love of justice tempered with mercy, and against everything at all akin to double-facedness, de veloped themselves so early and so strongly, that education had an easy and a fruitful duty to perform ; and, when the time arrived for parental hands to be gradually exonerated from the really " delightful task " of " rearing " such " tender thought" — when that childhood was passed on which her memory always dwelt as " unspeakably happy," the large hearted self-culture which in due season usurped the place of parental authority, only found and proved how precious were those resources which native moral stamina, aided by domestic and congregational instructions, had secured for her as a child of God and a disciple of Jesus Christ.

On the life, death, resurrection, and miraculous attestation of Jesus the Christ, as God's chiefest Messenger of inspired truth to mankind, she felt convictions which were based on no borrowed materials, no half-examined grounds. She also, with most prayerful gratitude to God, very highly prized the privilege of having been devoutly trained in a church advo cating the principle of the most unqualified obedience to the revealed will of God, together w7ith the inalienable right and duty of individual inquiry to seek, to know, and to do what ever the Lord God might reveal and require. That Will, so far as it specially concerned the religion and morals essential to man, seemed to her mind to be clearly revealed through a fearless and untramelled, but faithful and devotional, examination of the records in the Bible, particularly in the New Testament ; and, though she ever believed that we have two " revelations " from God for our study, that of His works as well as that of His word, and that these must be consistent with each other — that, in short, nature and Scripture must be reconciled, before truth in religion is duly "revealed" — yet this conclusion did but the more consistently and firmly bind her adhesion to the primitive Gospel of the Saviour, as being, above all other religious faith, worthy of God to give, and of men to receive.

Within this Church of her voluntary adoption she became a recognised member in her seventeenth year, and so continued (though not without deep recent dissatisfaction) to the close of her days ; and in its principles were nurtured many, nay most, of her written and her unuttered thoughts. Her devout attachment to its communion was sealed by the per suasion that in this Church was found the exposition which she deemed most consonant with Holy Scripture and with human nature, of that highest faith and that holiest service, which the wisdom of God has vouchsafed to teach mankind through Jesus Christ and his Apostles. Here, with a holy pride, she joined in disowning clerical distinctions, self styled " orthodoxy," ceremonial ostentation, mercenary church-craft, contempt of woman's moral claims, with such other doctrines and practices as are utterly unwarranted by that pure and priceless Gospel of liberty wherein the Christ of God hath made his followers free, be they Jews or Gen tiles, bondmen or freemen, male or female.* This rather laboured explicitness of statement will be kindly excused by strangers who may read, on tbe plea that the belief, purposes, and views of the sect calling itself "The Church of God," but usually known as "The Free thinking Christians," has been grossly misrepresented by some very well-meaning friends of religion, and has been igno rantly and ignominiously eschewed by many others. * Her own exposition of her views will be found in chapters iii., vi., x. On the 24th of June, 1839, Ellen Coates became the wife of Stephen Corneck Freeman, with whom she shared not merely the ordinary joys and sorrows of married life, but those sympathies which spring from the mutual and affectionate freedom of religious inquiry, conviction, and trust.

In the theological body of which they both were members her husband originated, and for eight years and eight months conducted, that "Monthly Manuscript Magazine," for whose benefit the best of her literary efforts were pro duced; and in the pages of that humble periodical her essays first trembled (the word is used advisedly) into hopeful recognition . The portion of her days prior to the two rather eventful twelvemonths which preceded her marriage — in matter of fact, the time between birth and courtship — constituted that "happy childhood" upon which she loved in memory to linger, as having been so gladly long, so purely sweet, so full of hope, so free from woe, so trustful of the morrow. From the homely events of these eighteen girlish years little matter can be culled for stores of literary interest, or for tokens of quick mental germination.

The period, therefore, which this volume represents and comprehends is that space of fourteen years which will be unanimously acknowledged, by all who knew her well, as the intellectually, morally, and spiritually stirring, trying, developing portion of her brief earthly existence. Of those tastes and occupations, to which but little direct reference occurs in the volume itself, a short description can hardly be deemed irrelevant here; if it simply serve for hints to other young women of what their sex can be and do and suffer in body, soul, and spirit. Drawing, music, and poetry, with history, both national and natural, had no small place in her large heart, as sub jects not merely of dilettante study and comment, but of spiritually harmonising influence upon the powers of mind, the susceptibilities of taste, and the best affections of humanity.

A fondness and an anxiety for these softening ministers of civilisation seemed to her to be points of duty peculiarly incumbent upon the teachers of youth. But, above all other purely intellectual entertainment, she seemed to enjoy the mathematics ; unless we may, in her name, con cede the higher place to physiological, ethical, and meta physical disquisitions; the highest mark of her mental affection being ever reserved for religion. She had also a keen relish for logical and philological pursuits, rhetoric and the belles lettres winning much of her fondest and most successful attention. Of the French and Italian languages she obtained a mastery, which facilitated to her, not the mere task of conning lexicographically, but the zest of enjoying with fervent sympathy the elegant, the sublime, the instructive, the amusing works of the best authors that have lent energy and beauty to the modern tongues of Italy and France.

German she had only postponed in favour of the ancient language of Rome; which she had recently prosecuted with zealous hope, to quench her insatiable thirst for the utmost possible fulness of supply from the fount streams of human knowledge and study. Illness had very grievously interrupted this effort of her ambition ; but the progress, despite all drawbacks, was rapid and secure beyond the ordinary compass of woman's attainment. She did not pretend to be a " Latin scholar," though with some she might have passed as such in these days of hollow pretension. Nay, this very feature of our times enhanced much the value of her healthful resolution to give no countenance to the bold savoir-faire and the shrewd faire-valoir, by which far too many persons dare to pass as well-read, learned, and astute friends of literature and science.

To her sensitive and un affected humility such tinsel glozings appeared peculiarly repulsive in woman, and, above all, in a young woman. And, much as she valued the courtesies of life, it had become her personal rule of good manners never to let moral propriety give place to modal decorum. " Her eye was not the mistress of her heart ; Far less did rules prescribed by passive taste, Or barren intermeddling subtleties, Perplex her mind ; but, wise as women are, When genial circumstance hath favoui'd them, She welcomed what was giv'n, and craved no more. Whate'er the scene presented to her view, That was the best — to that she was attuned By her benign simplicity of life, And through a perfect happiness of soul, Whose variegated feelings were in this Sisters, that they were each some new delight.

Birds in the bower, and lambs in the green field, Could they have known her, would have loved ; methongtt Her very presence such a sweetness breathed, That flow'rs and trees, and e'en the silent hills, And ev'rything she look'd on, should have had An intimation how she bore herself Towards them and to all creatures. God delights In such a being, for her common thoughts Are piety — her life is gratitude." Wordsworth, Prelude, book xii. Now, it was not during years of leisure and ease that Ellen Freeman most ardently accomplished her chief objects of mental pursuit ; it was after married life began, when — although the stern wisdom and goodness of Almighty God denied her frequent fervent prayer for children — yet she had harassing anxieties and toils in the professional charge of pupils resident under her own and her husband's care; — trials these, which those only can duly and truly appreciate who have had the " task" really upon their own hands, heads, and hearts.

And never did Ellen Freeman allow a domestic duty, however homely or even menial, which she deemed hers, to be supplanted or postponed by the fairest matter of study. To give an instance or two, which may amuse, even though the amusement swell into a laugh of incredulity or sarcasm. Many a time and oft, during a period of insufficient servile help in her household, has she (amongst other offices which many ladies would finely scorn as infra dig.) turned the hard beaters of the butter-churn; and, actually with her hands thus employed, studied from her Euclid placed upon the churn-lid — not merely poor old ports asinorum, or the forty-seventh of the first, but — the most intricate of those propositions which are figured in the fifth, eleventh, and twelfth books. And many a time, after her husband had found her thus engaged, and expostulated against the fearful trial of strength, and had warned her of certain (or uncertain) risks to the consistency of her own brain, physically and mentally, if she w7ould thus do double and doubtful duty, the calm and cheerful manner in which she would accurately go through the minutest intricacies of geometrical demonstra tion was only surpassed by the arch smile, which eloquently triumphed over all remonstrance.

And even in the daily manual offices of housewifery, which she made a point of personally fulfilling, it was her wont to be almost always quietly busy in mind and in heart upon some means of making home happier, or of affording food for the intellectual appetites of pupils and correspondents. And here let us not fail to particularise her connection with the chartered Corporation of the College of Preceptors, in the ladies' department of which she was the clever, kind, active and much - respected honorary secretary. Both as a member and as an " official" she gladly allowed much of her thought, influence and correspondence to be absorbed in this institution, little known, often misunderstood, and laudably independent. Its liberal and progressive spirit of educational reform found in her mind and heart an overflow ing concurrence ; and to its interests her devotion cooled not, save with the chill of death.

How happily effective was the consonance of her husband's opinions and feelings with her own, on this as on other efforts for social progress, may well enough be imagined. Thus, in each mental enterprise, she neither failed nor flagged. Scarcely did the frightful burden of a grievous bodily affliction repress her otherwise healthful energies, till it became too much for even her holy endur ance of physical pain. Of a ruthless disease, defying the united skill of the best me dicine and surgery, she fell the martyr on the 2nd of August, 1851. But the physical agony which she had, with faith and patience, to endure so long, did but dignify and sanctify her own spiritual convictions and aspirations, by a clearness and a firmness of mind and heart, which — just as the loss of one corporal sense is often attended by a gain of acuteness in the others — so appeared in the gradual loss of all her bodily powers, only to possess her spirit with a keener vision and a stronger hold of the life and immortality brought to light by the Gospel.

But, lest this commentary become tedious and encroaching, let her own Memorials tell their own genial, chaste and che quered tale. How ill her character can with other pens be drawn, has been so well suggested by one who knew her and loved her better than almost all others did, and who was besought to write the biographical sketch for these prefatory pages, that the refusal and its reason cannot be inappro priately transcribed : — " While I am flattered by your desire that I should write the sketch of our dear Ellen's life, I must, with deep regret, assure you that I have not the ability to undertake the task. Few7, I beheve, more truly appreciated the character of this my dearest friend and niece than myself. Her calm, steadfast, affectionate nature — her truthful and simple, yet clear, judgment — her large mind and great talents, com bined with such childlike humility and cheerful resignation to the Divine Will — had fostered my tender love into the highest reverence.

But I could no more depict this in ivords, as it should be depicted, concise, clear and holy, like her life, than I could paint the suffering but heavenly expression of her sweet eyes, during the wearying anguish of those last few months. No, my dear friend, the little that is to be said must be well said." Nor can all else be better said than by the pages now hopefully and regretfully annexed ; which, reviving her inner self in her own breathing words, will give such an expres sive image of autobiography as those few whom it will unaf fectedly interest can best appreciate, and may, perhaps, alone duly welcome to the ordeal of sympathising hearts. MEMORIALS OP THE MIND AND HEART,

Chapter I

1837-8-9. Touches and Fragments of Autobiography, being Passages from Journal and a Letter. EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL, 1837. January 26th. 's letter ! but I shall not attempt to say anything on that subject, why should I? I shall never forget it ; and to put feelings into ivords always appears to me like a translation, in which we lose all the force and vividness of the original. It has made me search much in my own mind ; and I am more than ever struck with the singular compound of the selfish and noble in the " weak human heart." I do not feel indignant at dear 's conduct, and I love her, I think, as much as ever ; yet I do not, cannot, wish for the mere name of friend. My chief feeling is, I think, an ardent wish for her happiness ; yet worse feelings will, sometimes, make me feel that my love was a useless one, — that I was not disposed to sacrifice in little things, though I feel I could in great ones ; this more in thought than action.

I have done what I said I should not ! February 6th. Fire ! All in confusion ! — firemen, clerk, men and servants in playroom, and of little use. The worst was down-stairs. If it had happened in the night, the house must have been burned, and perhaps ourselves. I cannot feel sufficiently thankful to God for this instance of His protection ! It is only when it is thus forced upon our minds that w7e fully recognise it ! February 8th. I will here write a copy of some verses I made just before 's letter to me, when all was wrell, and I was only afraid (as I always am) of not loving her enough. They are very bad — and, of all things, bad poetry is the worst •but they are a curiosity, for I seldom attempt poetry. They are TO C I. I've wandered 'neath the silent stars, When the morn was at the full, And thought of thee, as pure as they, And scarce less beautiful. n. When, standing on the pebbly beach Of the blue and glorious sea, Each rippling wave on the shining sand Has whispered thoughts of thee. in.

Then think not lightly of ray love, Because it is not shown In words that would be vain and weak, But burns within alone. IV. The source of the clear mountain stream Is hidden from the light ; And thus affection's purer spring- Will ever shun the sight. v. I love thee as I ne'er have loved, And ne'er shall love again ; — My thoughts are thine, my pray'rs are thine ; And e'en this idle strain. E. C, Croydui). March 10th. I cannot record half that happens, still less what I feel and think. " Comment dire ce qui n'etait ni dit, ni fait, ni pense rngme, mais goute, mais seuti ?" and I think I may add, " Le vrai bonheur ne se decrit pas." 23rd. Dressed at four o'clock to see A. and E. off. Once more farewell ! How desolate the house seemed when they were gone ! Shall I ever be so happy again as I have been with them this last month ?

Who can tell ? Never have I been so happy, so careless, since our visits to H. and C. I never loved any others so much as I do E. and A. They are now in my heart of hearts, where few others are. I do love them. Spent the rest of the day rather sadly. After tea I sang "Come, come, come," by appointment, and cried without. April 21st. I will now write down the piece of poetry that I made on the M.'s going. It is sincere — no more than I felt : — Yes, they are gone ! and all the happy hours, That flew so lightly by, they scarce were heeded, Have pass'd away into that by-gone time Which never can return. Oh, how each look And every little jest — the very tone — Of the loved one we've lost is treasured up By faithful memory ! How much we miss Their cheerful faces round the social board ! And when the evening closes, and we sit Quietly down to our accustom'd work, We seem to listen for the glad light laugh That echoed to our own.

We linger yet For their " good night ;" and it is hard to think That they will not return — that the sweet voice, Whose music was so loved, is far away, And we are left alone to mourn their loss. May they be happy ! and, when next we meet, As free from care as now ! It will be long Ere we forget them. Oh ! when friends grow cold — When those we've loved, whom even now we love, Have proved themselves unkind — how very dear Are those that still remain ! May 15th, 1837. I am nineteen to-day. I wish I were younger. I think I am more grown (in mind) than improved. How very far am I still from what I ought to be ! I intend making a list of my prevailing failings (to call them no worse), but have not time yet. June 12th. After dinner, in the summer-house, reading aloud " Woman's Reward," which interested me very much.

June 17 th. I think some of my besetting sins are : — I am disposed to be jealous, even of those I love best — more in their absence than in their presence ; too particular about what those I love think of me ; very " impatient of the knife ;" easily ruffled and put out of temper, though not in a passion ; apt, when hurt, to be sulky ; have great difficulty in owning I am wrong and in saying a thousand things I ought to say ; idle in things I have not a taste for ; think too much of appearances, not in others ; troubled with mauvaise honte [vide Miss Edgeworth's admirable description of it in " Patronage") — though I try to cure myself of it, but I believe it is impossible ; indeed, I cannot help thinking of Hamlet's words (I quote from memory) : " I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more sins to my back than I have words to put them in," &c, though all does not, I think, apply to me.

I am very apprehensive — I fear more than I hope (in anticipation) ; thus, I have more pleasure in memory than in anticipation, and am seldom disappointed ; but I " die a thousand deaths in fearing one." Sunday, 2bth. I write rather in the jingle style ; short sentences I mean. Miss F. dined, teaed, and slept here. Nearly fixed to go to Enfield for a few days. I should like it very much, I have such pleasant asso ciations with Enfield. June 26.7.. Miss F. went. Lessons after dinner ; work, read, &c. After tea the rest go to Croydon. I walk in the garden alone. Think — I think too little on serious subjects ; the little incidents of every day engross my attention too much. A pleasant book, a new song (though I seldom have one) — these, I am afraid, give me too much pleasure. I think too much of literature — too little of religion.

June 30th. After breakfast, in the chaise to Enfield. To F.'s for the first time. A nice old house. S. F. very friendly, and lunaticky, in a grey coat and dirty cap. July 1st. Lay reading in the hay. Walked to grandpapa's by ourselves. Saw old John, and wept over the place — as lovely as ever — where we had been so happy in our early friendship. How well-remembered was each spot ! Each had its interest, and its legend as it were. Oh, it was beautiful ! And then to think of C. No, I never can have another such friend, so entwined with my earliest, my happiest recollections : her very name has a spell in it ; yet she is but a memory, kept in my mind as one of the beautiful things of the earth. We stayed in the gardens till wre heard the dinner-bell at F.'s and then we gave old John a half-crown.