And ever bars the Prison Gates of Death.[331]
Over the whole volume is cast the shadow of the now-fashionable melancholy, and much is made of the midnight moon, the evening dew, the ‘Gothic pile,’ and the ivy bower of the bird of night. These are worth mention as showing that Mrs. Carter’s interests were not bounded by the school of Pope. Her tastes, like Mrs. Vesey’s, grew increasingly romantic, and though she detested Werther[332] and never doubted that Rousseau was mad,[333] she was always an affectionate believer in Ossian.[334] She felt the new passion for landscape. In thought she accompanies Mrs. Vesey to the cliffs of Snowden,[335] and regrets that Mrs. Montagu cannot ascend the heights of windy Morven.[336] At Eastry she dreams herself back to the worship of Woden.[337] Her interest in Gothic architecture is intense, and she writes about the demolition of old buildings like a disciple of Ruskin: ‘It seems to me that when a fair inheritance is transmitted to a family they ought to feel a certain degree of tenderness to the abode of the ancestors from whom it is derived, which ought at least to sink quietly by the silent depredations of time, and not be torn down by the rude hand of human violence.’[338]
This interest in romance enabled her to understand the Celtic imaginings of Mrs. Vesey as her learning and her knowledge of philosophy gave her a control over Mrs. Montagu. Her friendship with the two ladies was unruffled throughout, and she received an annuity of £100 from the latter without any sacrifice of dignity. She never lost her head about anything—least of all about herself. She was a scholar and had a scholar’s love of the classics, yet she was broad enough to know when the age was widening its horizon. In an age of prudes, she dared to like Tom Jones. In an age of wits, she appreciated wit, yet had the sense to see that it is a ‘squint of the understanding which is mighty apt to set things in a wrong place.’[339] She understood and approved what was best in the salons, but could be happy without any pretensions to a career in them.
Thus her life was passed serenely without social rivalries, without the attempt or desire to follow her ostentatious friends afar, and while escaping the criticism so freely visited upon them, she had the honour of contributing by her quiet, serious, and almost unseen influence to whatever of solid worth they were to achieve.
Intimately associated with Miss Carter was ‘the admirable Mrs. Chapone,’ who, when Miss Mulso, had been one of Richardson’s ‘Daughters.’ Her two chief works, Letters on the Improvement of the Mind and Miscellanies in Prose and Verse, were the result of bluestocking patronage, and were dedicated to Mrs. Montagu and Mrs. Carter respectively. The former, having seen Mrs. Chapone’s letters to a favourite niece, recommended their publication, and assisted in preparing them for the press by correcting them with her ‘elegant pen.’[340] The preparation of the second volume was undertaken at the instigation of Mrs. Carter and with the approval of Mrs. Montagu; though Mrs. Delany claims the honour of having first put the plan into the author’s head.[341]
Mrs. Chapone’s Letters were supposed to have had an enormous influence on the conduct of young women. According to Hannah More, in Sensibility, Chapone ‘forms the rising age.’ In Samuel Hoole’s Aurelia, the heroine has a vision of an ideal woman:
On the plain toilet, with no trophies gay,
Chapone’s instructive volume open lay.
But one is inclined to suspect that this volume belongs to that large class of admonitory works less popular with the young than with their parents and preceptors. The book was put into the hands of every young girl from the Princess Royal downwards. Mrs. Delany considered it next to the Bible as an entertaining and edifying work for youthful females. She advises that not more than six lines of it be read at one sitting, in order that it may be the more deeply impressed on the attention, and thinks that the historical and geographical parts of it should be got by heart. She hopes her grand-niece will read it once a year, until she has a daughter to read it to her.[342] Mrs. Chapone herself smiled at the popularity of the book, and considered its success to be due principally to the patronage of Mrs. Montagu, and in part to the ‘world’s being so fond of being educated.’[343] It is probable that it was generally used as an antidote to the Letters of Chesterfield which appeared about the same time, and had a very different reception.