xxiv MEMOIR 



amateur. At the age of seventeen, she heard Pasta in Paris ; 

 flew up in a fire of youthful enthusiasm ; and the next morning, 

 all alone and without introduction, found her way into the 

 presence of the prima donna and begged for lessons. Pasta 

 made her sing, kissed her when she had done, and though she 

 refused to be her mistress, placed her in the hands of a friend. 

 Nor was this all ; for when Pasta returned to Paris, she sent for 

 the girl (once at least) to test her progress. But Mrs. Jenkin's 

 talents were not so remarkable as her fortitude and strength of 

 will ; and it was in an art for which she had no natural taste 

 (the art of literature) that she appeared before the public. Her 

 novels, though they attained and merited a certain popularity 

 both in France and England, are a measure only of her courage. 

 They were a task, not a beloved task ; they were written for 

 money in days of poverty, and they served their end. In the 

 least thing as well as in the greatest, in every province of life 

 as well as in her novels, she displayed the same capacity of 

 taking infinite pains, which descended to her son. When she 

 was about forty (as near as her age was known) she lost her 

 voice ; set herself at once to learn the piano, working eight hours 

 a day ; and attained to such proficiency that her collaboration 

 in chamber music was courted by professionals. And more 

 than twenty years later, the old lady might have been seen 

 clauntlessly beginning the study of Hebrew. This is the more 

 ethereal part of courage ; nor was she wanting in the more 

 material. Once when a neighbouring groom, a married man, 

 had seduced her maid, Mrs. Jenkin mounted her horse, rode 

 over to the stable entrance and horsewhipped the man with her 

 own hand. 



How a match came about between this talented and spirited 

 girl and the young midshipman, is not very easy to conceive. 

 Charles Jenkin was one of the finest creatures breathing ; 

 loyalty, devotion, simple natural piety, boyish cheerfulness, 

 tender and manly sentiment in the old sailor fashion, were in 

 him inherent and inextinguishable either by age, suffering, or 

 injustice. He looked, as he was, every inch a gentleman ; he 

 must have been everywhere notable, even among handsome men, 



