power to shut up their children for any time they may think proper; for life, if it is thought their crimes deserve it. March 1st. Received an invitation from an English family, to a ball and concert. Bingham, &c. went, but I was not well enough. Employed the time in reading Thomas à Kempis, and felt more satisfaction than I should have done in their splendid assembly. scended from grand and ancient families; they have large fortunes, which they give up, and have all things in common, forsaking the allurements of the world. They at least pretend to lead a life of mortification; fasting and praying continually; but how far they may be inwardly detached from the follies of life is best known to themselves. Christ and his disciples never excluded themselves from the eye of the world; and I should imagine it is not the design of our Creator that each individual should live to himself. After having expressed our thanks to the polite Monks, we departed. 11th. Was exceedingly shocked to hear of the death of the young lady whose wedding we saw, not many weeks since; she was taken ill on thursday, and died this morning, leaving a distressed husband and mother. Who, that has any consideration, would be so anxious after 26th. St. Mark. A grand feast! I think the happiness which is so uncertain! These these people do little else than feast; we went daily instances of the instability of earthly joys with M. to Mass; a long and tedious cereshould certainly warn us against a reliance mony. I believe they consider the bishop as upon them. What a melancholy change in a being of a superior order; he walks to the this family! the other day, all gay, and flatter-church, surrounded by almost all the village, ing themselves with the prospect of many succeeding years! Happy is the mind whose dependence is not upon the fluctuating joys of this world, who can contemplate all with the eye of a passenger that is seeking rest in another! April 7th. A great feast-day. At Vespers, could not be so attentive to myself as I wished, for there were a number of ceremonies which I could not help observing. It is strange to me that so many absurdities should be considered an acceptable sacrifice to the Lord. I think the priest does little but change his clothes; but I must say that the whole congregation seem to attend with seriousness; much more so than the protestants; and I doubt not the sincere in heart reap the benefit arising from true devotion. 10th. A most delightful day! We walked in the wood, and fixed upon a romantic spot, to build a grotto in. Heard of the death of a near neighbour, who dined with us soon after our arrival. I think it is remarkable that, out of the families with whom we have dined since we came to this part, three of the principals are dead. 16th. St. Omers is delightfully situated, and the streets long and spacious. Went to the college where my brother Charles and Brunet are. Le Frère Auventin attended us to the noble structure of St. Bertin's Abbey. There are a number of very fine paintings, which I examined while M. Brunet and the Frère repeated their prayers; this they are obliged to do when they enter the church, as they consider it a spot sacred to the Lord; but in my opinion, all places are alike to our God, who dwells not in temples made with hands, but takes up his abode in the hearts of the meek and humble. Round the chapel are hung the arms of the Monks, as they are all de who join in singing psalms, &c. A canopy of crimson, fringed with gold, is supported by four old men; and under this, the great man sits or walks, in state. They say he is a man exemplary for his piety, charity, &c. I hope that all proceeds from the right spring. Education may so far have influenced his mind, that the forms and ceremonies may to him appear necessary; but I must acknowledge that I beheld them with an emotion which I cannot describe. The bishop wears a large ring upon his little finger, which the priest kneels to kiss; the servants kneel when they present water to wash his hands. I was so much affected by these strange, and as I thought, presumptuous ceremonies, that I could not restrain my tears; and how earnestly did I wish that all the world were acquainted with that gentle tranquillity which results from a humble waiting upon the Lord! 29th. I could not but make the secret comparison between these thoughtless people, who meet for no better purpose than to idle away their time, and those friends whom I have left in England. I daily wish to be again among them; it would then be my own fault if an hour passed unimproved. May 4th. Passed the morning alone. I pity those who are unacquainted with the sweet consolations resulting from serious meditation; and with that peace which the world cannot give nor take away. 28th. Boulogne. Arrived in the afternoon. Dressed and sallied forth to spend the evening at an English lady's; when we arrived all the party were at cards, to which we also sat down. While we played, a circumstance occurred which made me feel in a way that I cannot describe. The sacrament which is carried to the sick, and is always announced by the ringing of a hand-bell, passed by the windows. The company, being mostly French, threw down their cards, knelt and prayed for a few minutes, and then set to cards again. I mean not to censure them; they may act up to their judgment and feelings, but I must confess it would appear to me very presumptuous to address the great Almighty in a form of words, at a time when the mind was interested in affairs so trifling, so inconsistent with that awful sense with which we ought to present ourselves, when disposed to offer prayer. On our return I found a very affectionate epistle from my honoured mother; all friends well, and kindly anxious for my health. 7th. After dinner, the conversation turned on religion; they were very severe upon me, and rallied me unmercifully, giving me the appellation of Quaker or Trembler. Nothing could be more unjust than their censures of this people, whom they conclude to be unworthy of the name of Christian. I heard all with silent patience. After having listened for some time, I declared myself quite in favour of the real principles of Quakerism; and retired, leaving them to make what comments they pleased. and enjoyed a pleasing calm; all nature glowing around us. I could not but regret the folly which leads men to search for happiness in crowds, and in pompous parade, when real satisfaction may be purchased at so cheap a rate. As a flower unfolds in the genial warmth of the sun, the mind expands in serious meditation and reflection. 9th. Dined at M. Routier's with three Anglois. I was not satisfied with our amusements; they were of a nature too gay and noisy to contribute to the real delight of the mind which desires something more than momentary enjoyment. 22nd. Félicité and I took a ride to the Bois de Boulogne, about four miles off; it is a delightful spot. We sat under the tress, and enjoyed the tranquillity of the scene. The disposition of my friend seems formed to enter into my tastes. 28th. Received letters from my kind parents; they are anxious and unhappy at my indisposition. trust and confidence in my God which makes his will my delight. Though he afflict me, yet will I trust in Him; and while his grace supports me, I can, as it were, forget the present pain, and look joyfully forward to that glory which shall be revealed to those who persevere. 29th. The palpitation at my heart returned with great violence. The physician assures me that it is only the effect of the weak state to July 8th. Dined at Marquise; never spent which I am reduced. I pass the nights almost a more disagreeable day; the gentlemen drank without sleep, and have very little appetite, a great deal, and in consequence were very therefore I cannot, at present, expect to regain noisy and troublesome. I was truly glad when my strength. I hope I am not impatient under the coach was ordered, but we were no sooner these bodily afflictions; they are light in comseated in it, than we perceived that our coach-parison with a wounded spirit. I have that man had made as free with the bottle as his master, and we were obliged to get out and march back, about half a mile to Marquise, where we again arrived at the Cure's. To our great satisfaction we found the company dispersed; beds were ordered, and we soon retired; but my spirits were so agitated by the scenes 1 had witnessed, that I fainted several times. I wished myself in some secluded spot, where I might never more be in company with those, who so shamefully abuse the reason they are blessed with. I am certain that, if others 2nd. Much indisposed, but as it proved a enjoyed these extravagancies no more than I do, delightful afternoon, my friend and I went in they would soon be excluded, as destroyers of the cabriolet, to the Bois de Boulogne, and reour peace. Those recreations which will not posed under the spreading branches of a fine bear reflection, are ill suited to rational, intelli-old tree. As we generally take our books on gent creatures. A train of such ideas kept me awake most of the night. Arrived at Herdinghen the 9th. August 3rd. Spent a few quiet hours in my own room. Walked into the country, where we partook of a frugal repast, at a farm-house; sitting upon hay, with a plank for our table. The clouds were remarkably beautiful, and I was disposed to enjoy the calm contemplation which the surrounding objects seemed to invite. 4th. In the evening Félicité and I took our book to the garden, and seated ourselves under a clump of trees; we stayed nearly two hours, September 1st. A comfortable day, without pain or sickness. Walked out and enjoyed the air, though winter begins to creep upon us, and as Thompson finely expresses it, 'lets loose his northern blasts.' these excursions, reading and conversation have their turn, and we enjoy many pleasing moments, untasted by those who are engaged in a continual round of more expensive luxuries. How greatly are we mistaken when we consider riches as the only happiness! The truly pious mind exults in well-grounded hope, and steadfastly fixes the eye of faith beyond the present scene. 4th. Again visited the wood, and returned about sunset, which afforded us many delightful views. They brought to my mind those beautiful lines beginning, These are thy glorious works, Parent of good!' It is impossible to contemplate the wonders of nature without feeling the heart glow with gratitude to the great Author, whose goodness is but dimly seen in these his works. letter, nor if I can help it, ever shall; for the blow which your brother Jasper has given him, has almost struck him to the ground, and I am apprehensive that he could not support another such. As to my own feelings, I forbear to mention them; for I know, and am fully persuaded that, grievous as they are, they ought not to be held in any estimation against that which teacheth, He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me;' and if it has been your lot, my child! (for so I will yet call you) to be born of parents that were ignorant and ungodly; that neither by precept nor example taught you to serve God in spirit and in truth; but on the contrary, that it was enough to honour Him with the lips, though the heart was far from Him-but stop, and examine, O! my soul, dost thou not, in this, stand self-accused? I have indeed been guilty of great neglect of my duty, in that state in life 16th. Spent the morning chiefly in my own room; the extreme gaiety does not suit me. I feel like a stranger indeed! I have no inclination to familiarize myself with this mode of life; it may do for others, but give me sobriety, with a mind disposed for reflection. A letter just received from my dear Jasper, informs me that he has some thoughts of coming here. I shall greatly rejoice to see him. I cannot but observe how ill-informed we English females find ourselves, in comparison with the French ladies; they appear perfectly acquainted with the rise and progress of all material events in the history, both of their own and other nations. This is certainly a part of education not merely ornamental, which might well be sub-in which it pleased God to place me! in caring stituted for more trivial acquisitions. 17th. I walked to the grotto, and found it improved in beauty, as the moss has taken root, and flourishes in all its various colours. Boulogne; evening. I can scarcely believe that I am now writing in the chamber of my friend Félicité! At dinner time an arrival was announced; I ran out of the room, and had the satisfaction of embracing the most affectionate of brothers; I readily agreed to return here with him, as fresh company had arrived. It will here be needful to break off from the journal for a time, in order to take a glance at the state of things in the family at home. It appears that the decided attachment of her brother Jasper to the principles and practice of the Society of Friends, had awakened many fears in the minds of his parents, who were much alarmed for the consequences of his influence among their numerous children; especially as they could not but see that Mary was strongly attracted to unite with the views of Friends. A letter, written about this time by Rebecca Capper, to her son William, will depict her feelings, in this trying exigency, so as to excite the sympathy of every susceptible mind. It may be premised that William never made much, if any, change in his religious observances, and always remained a member of the Episcopal Church. Birmingham, September 18th, 1777. MY DEAR WILLIAM,-A complaint in my eyes still remains; but I am induced to run the hazard of hurting my sight, to say a few words respecting a letter which your brother Samuel put into my hand last night. Your dear father (for he is indeed dear to me) has not seen your But too much for the things of this world, and in divine grace or Holy Spirit, faith and Holy Scriptures. You say you are inclined to attend the meetings of Quakers by stronger motives than compliance to Jasper; that you find yourself enriched by the plain truths they deliver; that you are charmed with the love, sweetness, and tenderness of affection which appear among them. Oh! my child, you see not beyond the mask, nor why it is occasionally put on; but to gain three proselytes all at once is a great acquisition-But stay! where am I running? or where is my Christian charity, if they think they are in the right way? A crowd of ideas press upon my mind, but I will only beg one favour of you; it will perhaps be the last I shall ever ask of you; it is this; that you will, for a few Sundays, go to the Church of which you have been a member, (though perhaps an unworthy one) and set your mind in a right frame of devotion, remembering that you are, at that time, as well as at all others, immediately in the presence of that God who knoweth the secrets of all hearts; and though He regardeth not time nor place, yet reflect and consider for what purpose you are come there; and as much as lieth in you, suppress all vain and wandering thoughts; keep your eyes from looking on the faces of others; and do not, from their look and manner, judge of what passes in their hearts, but be careful of your own; and with fervent zeal and humility, attend to those prayers, praises, and adorations, there offered to the throne of Grace; and though they may be uttered by a man of like infirmities with yourself, yet let not that hinder you from sincerely seeking for the assistance of God's Spirit, to enable you to do that which is right in his sight; and as I am sure you will find what will suit your own feelings; in them join, with sincerity of heart; for though God knoweth our necessities before we ask, yet hath it pleased Him to command that we, his poor creatures, should lay our wants before Him; and if at all times and in all places, why not when we are gathered together? I have reason to believe my dear Mary's health is but very indifferent at this time, and that her old complaints return with greater force than ever. I firmly believe that the agitation of mind she has laboured under of late, has greatly increased her bodily infirmity. and debate, which I think it is best to avoid; and if we must be separated, may that Being who first gave you all to me, enable me with patient resignation to part with you in whatever way He shall think fit! but I find myself a poor frail creature, and do indeed, at this moment fear and tremble before Him. I had much more on my mind to say to you, but I have lost it; so conclude, with sincere prayer for your present and eternal welfare, your truly affectionate mother, REBECCA CAPPER. From this letter and from some subsequent remarks in Mary Capper's journal, it appears that she entered pretty fully into her brother's change of religious view, and that this had been so far made known to her parents as to make them hesitate about allowing her to return home. She deeply felt her trying position, and she also sympathised tenderly with her brother, who was, at that time, much distressed in mind. He seems to have been sent, to convey her back to England, without loss of time. While they were detained before sailing, they were in the practice of frequently retiring together, for the purpose of silently waiting upon the Lord, that they might know his will, and experience a renewal of their spiritual strength; and they were often comforted together, on these occasions. Resuming the journal, Mary Capper proceeds: September 18th. My kind friend expresses much satisfaction at my quick return. I really feel greatly at the thought of leaving her, it may be for ever! Her tenderness and amiable disposition have gained my admiration and my warm affection, and have greatly interested me in her future well-doing. 19th. Much in my friend's room, either reading or preparing for my departure. 20th. My brother and Félicité accompanied me to the Bois de Boulogne, and we passed an hour very pleasantly under the shade of the fine trees, not in the least regretting the parties at Herdinghen. Mere sensual delights are very unsatisfactory to a mind, capable of tasting the pleasures which result from contemplating the wonders and the goodness of Him who created and preserves this universal frame. All nature speaks forth his praise; and shall not his intelligent creatures admire and extol his infinite wisdom and excellence! I think it likely that she and I may never be permitted to meet again in this world; but though by different roads, my sincere hope is, 21st. My brother and I declined going to that we shall all meet again in the next. I had Mass; we passed the time very agreeably; and promised to myself some pleasure in coming I experienced true satisfaction in silence. up to London to meet your sister there, and 25th. My brother and I rode out in the cabwith joy to bring her home, but I fear that is riolet; he made me acquainted with some cirover; her home cannot be with us, her parents; | cumstances, relative to himself, that are very far for well I know that would be the cause of strife from giving me pleasure; however I must not suffer myself to be cast down, but be firm in hope, trust and confidence. October 12th. My brother and I sat together. 13th. We have not determined when to go, but I hope soon, as the family are in a confusion of gaiety, which seems not to allow a moment for serious reflection. My brother and I are considered stupid mortals, for we cannot join in the vacant laugh, noisy song, &c. if the thing were of the Lord, it would stand; if of man, it would come to naught. Mary Capper appears to have made very few memoranda during her stay at home; but the few which have been preserved, and which are here presented, give proof of the continued seriousness of her mind, and of her desire, under a complication of difficulties and disadvantages, to follow on to know the Lord for herself. September 8th, 1779. 18th. It is with difficulty that I keep up an appearance of cheerfulness, for my spirits are uncommonly affected. The thought of leaving If men are born merely to live, or rather my friends here, and of seeing those in Eng-breathe, a few short years, and then fall to noland, causes an agitation which I can scarcely thing; if virtue is only a name, or a habit ac endure. 22nd. On board the same vessel which brought us to this place! I have left the arms of a tender, affectionate friend, and the tears still steal down my cheeks. 25th. Arrived safely in London last night, after a tedious voyage. We were both very ill. This morning we landed from a small boat, and drove to my uncle Smallwood's. I had scarcely sufficient strength left to embrace the ten derest of mothers! CHAPTER III. Return home in 1777, and memoranda during her stay there.-Removal to Wilmington, and journal while there in 1781 and 1782. quired by certain modes of education, why have we a secret, unconquerable knowledge of right and wrong? If it be possible to believe that annihilation takes place, after this span of pain and sorrow, we are of all creatures the most deplorable. Brutes have capacities to desire and enjoy, but man has a reasonable soul, which is not to be satisfied with sensual gratifications. How vain! how weak is the human heart! Can a reflecting mind be ignorant of its own instability! Can the maxims of the most learned sophistry fortify us against the alluring poison of those temptations which surround us! Can speculation, or gratified passions, produce those calm, happy effects, which result from a firm dependence on a superior Power, who will reward our humble faith, or assuredly punish our arrogant pride! How amiable is the humble mind, which trusts not in its own strength, which is not above acknowledging its own weakness, and glories only in its hope and confidence in the living God! March 12th, 1780. "The Lord is my rock and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower!" O! who is like unto our God! THE return of Mary Capper to the paternal dwelling, was the occasion of much trial and difficulty both to herself and to her affectionate parents. She thus writes, respecting this interesting period of her life. "It was after my return from France that an obvious change took place in my manners, &c., so as to attract observation. The ceremonies of the church, when I attended with my parents and the family, affected me in a very unusual manner; I do not know that I can say painfully, but with What am I, O! Lord, what am I, that thou a desire to act more conformably with what shouldst so wonderfully extend thy love towards was preached. Sometimes I wept, and some- me! Of myself I am worse than nothing; all times had to be taken out, nearly fainting; but weakness and contradiction! One moment, could not describe my sensations. I had then fervent in desire; the next, cold and languid no intention of making any change in my reli- in the performance of the least of thy comgious profession; but my dear mother's disap- mands. O! woe is me; who shall deliver me pointment was keen, when, in process of time, from this body of treachery! The Lord himI felt that I could not conform to what I had self! The mighty Lord who is my strength, been taught was necessary to salvation; and and my help in the time of need. He will kept much retired, without attending any place of worship." graciously dart a ray of divine light into my soul; then shall I plainly perceive that He is the ancient of days, that was and is, and is to come; the sure Rock of defence to all that trust in Him. About the end of the year 1777, her brother Jasper joined the Society of Friends, and in 1778, he married Anne Fry, the daughter of John Fry, of Whitechapel. In regard to these How comfortable are the dawnings of divine important changes, his mother remarked that, grace! How encouraging are thy promises, × The Friend turs mentioned is Félicité Dupont www beaut the wife of Brissot when was like her husband quillstrived in the River |