tree the mountain ash on the lawn. All my recollections seem to be
connected most closely with myself; now Catherine (Catherine Darwin) seems
to recollect scenes where others were the chief actors. When my mother
died I was 8 1/2 years old, and [Catherine] one year less, yet she
remembers all particulars and events of each day whilst I scarcely
recollect anything (and so with very many other cases) except being sent
for, the memory of going into her room, my father meeting me--crying
afterwards. I recollect my mother's gown and scarcely anything of her
appearance, except one or two walks with her. I have no distinct
remembrance of any conversation, and those only of a very trivial nature.
I remember her saying "if she did ask me to do something," which I said she
had, "it was solely for my good."

Catherine remembers my mother crying, when she heard of my grandmother's
death. Also when at Parkfield how Aunt Sarah and Aunt Kitty used to
receive her. Susan, like me, only remembers affairs personal. It is
sufficiently odd this [difference] in subjects remembered. Catherine says
she does not remember the impression made upon her by external things, as
scenery, but for things which she reads she has an excellent memory, i.e.,
for ideas. Now her sympathy being ideal, it is part of her character, and
shows how easily her kind of memory was stamped, a vivid thought is
repeated, a vivid impression forgotten.

I remember obscurely the illumination after the battle of Waterloo, and the
Militia exercising about that period, in the field opposite our house.

1817.

At 8 1/2 years old I went to Mr. Case's School. (Chapter I/3. A day-
school at Shrewsbury kept by Rev. G. Case, minister of the Unitarian Chapel