Chapter XV: Pride and Prejudice

1812-1814

The title-page of _Sense and Sensibility_ describes the book as being 'by a Lady.' This ascription satisfied the author's desire for concealment, but it puzzled the advertisers. The first advertisement--that in the _Morning Chronicle_ on October 31, 1811--merely describes it as 'a novel, called _Sense and Sensibility_, by Lady ----.' In the same paper, on November 7, it is styled an 'extraordinary novel by Lady ----'; while on November 28 it sinks to being an 'interesting novel,' but is ascribed to 'Lady A.'[232]

Jane's expectations were so modest that she laid by a sum out of her very slender resources to meet the expected loss. She must have been delighted at the result. By July 1813 every copy of the first edition had been sold; and not only had her expenses been cleared but she was one hundred and forty pounds to the good.[233] If we compare this with the thirty pounds that Fanny Burney received for _Evelina_, the one hundred pounds that Maria Edgeworth got for _Castle Rackrent_, or the hundred and forty pounds gained by Miss Ferrier for her first novel, we shall see that Jane Austen had no reason to complain.

The money was no doubt very welcome; but still more important from another point of view was the favourable reception of the work. Had it been a failure and an expense to its author, she would hardly have dared, nor could she have afforded, to make a second venture. On the success of _Sense and Sensibility_, we may say, depended the existence of _Pride and Prejudice_. Now she could return with renewed spirit to the preparation of the more famous work which was to follow, and on which she had already been engaged for some time, concurrently with her first-published novel.

We have no letters and little news for 1812; but we know that in April Edward Austen and his daughter Fanny came to Chawton House for three weeks. It was their last visit as Austens; for on the death of Mrs. Knight--his kind and generous patron and friend--in October of that year, Edward and all his family took the name of Knight[234]: a name which had been borne by every successive owner of the Chawton Estate since the sixteenth century. In June, Jane went with her mother to stay for a fortnight at Steventon Rectory--the last visit ever paid by Mrs. Austen to any place. When she determined never to leave home again, she said that her latest visit should be to her eldest son. Accordingly she went, and took a final farewell of the place where nearly the whole of her married life had been spent. She was then seventy-two years old, and lived on for sixteen more; but she kept her resolution and never again left Chawton Cottage for a single night. Her long survival can hardly have been expected by those who had to nurse her through frequent fits of illness; but these ailments do not seem to have been of the sort that kills. She was, however, always ready to contemplate the near approach of death both for herself and others; for in July 1811, after buying some bombazine in which to mourn for the poor King, she said: 'If I outlive him it will answer my purpose; if I do not, somebody may mourn for me in it: it will be wanted for one or the other, I dare say, before the moths have eaten it up.' As it happened, the King lived nine more years, and Mrs. Austen sixteen; and it was the lot of the latter to lose two children before her own time came. When Jane died in 1817, the health of her eldest brother, James, was failing, and two years and a half later he died. His mother lived on; but during the last years of her life she endured continual pain not only patiently but with characteristic cheerfulness. She once said to her grandson, Edward Austen: 'Ah, my dear, you find me just where you left me--on the sofa. I sometimes think that God Almighty must have forgotten me; but I dare say He will come for me in His own good time.'[235]

Our letters recommence in January 1813--almost at the exact date of the publication of _Pride and Prejudice_--a date which will seem to many people the central point in Jane Austen's life. She appeared, indeed, to be rather of that opinion herself, so far as her modest, unassuming nature would allow her to attribute importance to one of her own works. She calls it her 'darling child,' and does not know how she can tolerate people who will not care at least for Elizabeth. But we had better let her speak for herself. The first of the following letters[236] was written before the publication took place; but the others deal largely with _Pride and Prejudice_, while there is an under-current of allusions to _Mansfield Park_--now approaching completion.

Chawton: Sunday evening [January 24, 1813].

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--This is exactly the weather we
could wish for, if you are but well enough to
enjoy it. I shall be glad to hear that you are not
confined to the house by an increase of cold.

* * * * *

We quite run over with books. My mother has got
Sir John Carr's _Travels in Spain_ from Miss B.
and _I_ am reading a Society octavo, _An Essay on
the Military Police and Institutions of the
British Empire_ by Capt. Pasley of the Engineers:
a book which I protested against at first, but
which upon trial I find delightfully written and
highly entertaining. I am as much in love with the
author as ever I was with Clarkson or Buchanan, or
even the two Mr. Smiths of the City[237]--the
first soldier I ever sighed for--but he does write
with extraordinary force and spirit. Yesterday,
moreover, brought us Mrs. Grant's _Letters_ with
Mr. White's compliments; but I have disposed of
them, compliments and all, for the first fortnight
to Miss Papillon, and among so many readers or
retainers of books as we have in Chawton I dare
say there will be no difficulty in getting rid of
them for another fortnight if necessary. I learn
from Sir J. Carr that there is no Government House
at Gibraltar; I must alter it to the
Commissioner's.[238]

Our party on Wednesday was not unagreeable. . . .
We were eleven altogether, as you will find on
computation, adding Miss Benn and two strange
gentlemen, a Mr. Twyford, curate of Great Worldham,
who is living in Alton, and his friend Mr. Wilkes.
I don't know that Mr. T. is anything except very
dark-complexioned, but Mr. W. was a useful
addition, being an easy, talking, pleasantish young
man--a _very_ young man, hardly twenty, perhaps. He
is of St. John's, Cambridge, and spoke very highly
of H. Walter as a scholar. He said he was
considered as the best classic in the University.
How such a report would have interested my father!

* * * * *

Upon Mrs. D.'s mentioning that she had sent the
_Rejected Addresses_ to Mr. H., I began talking to
her a little about them, and expressed my hope of
their having amused her. Her answer was 'Oh dear,
yes, very much, very droll indeed--the opening of
the House and the striking up of the fiddles!'
What she meant, poor woman, who shall say? I
sought no farther. The P.'s have now got the book,
and like it very much; their niece Eleanor has
recommended it most warmly to them--_She_ looks
like a rejected addresser. As soon as a whist
party was formed, and a round table threatened, I
made my mother an excuse and came away, leaving
just as many for _their_ round table as there were
at Mrs. Grant's.[239] I wish they might be as
agreeable a set.

* * * * *

The Miss Sibleys want to establish a Book Society
in their side of the country like ours. What can
be a stronger proof of that superiority in ours
over the Manydown and Steventon society, which I
have always foreseen and felt? No emulation of the
kind was ever inspired by _their_ proceedings; no
such wish of the Miss Sibleys was ever heard in
the course of the many years of that Society's
existence. And what are their Biglands and their
Barrows, their Macartneys and Mackenzies to
Captain Pasley's _Essay on the Military Police of
the British Empire_ and the _Rejected Addresses_?

I have walked once to Alton, and yesterday Miss
Papillon and I walked together to call on the
Garnets. . . . _I_ had a very agreeable walk, and if
_she_ had not, more shame for her, for I was quite
as entertaining as she was. Dame G. is pretty
well, and we found her surrounded by her
well-behaved, healthy, large-eyed children. I took
her an old shift, and promised her a set of our
linen, and my companion left some of her Bank
Stock with her.

Tell Martha that I hunt away the rogues every
night from under her bed; they feel the difference
of her being gone.

Friday [January 29, 1813].

I hope you received my little parcel by J. Bond on
Wednesday evening, my dear Cassandra, and that you
will be ready to hear from me again on Sunday, for
I feel that I must write to you to-day. . . . I want
to tell you that I have got my own darling child
from London. On Wednesday I received one copy sent
down by Falkener, with three lines from Henry to
say that he had given another to Charles and sent
a third by the coach to Godmersham.

* * * * *

The advertisement is in our paper to-day for the
first time: 18_s._ He shall ask 1_l._ 1_s._ for my
two next, and 1_l._ 8_s._ for my stupidest of
all.[240] Miss Benn dined with us on the very day
of the book's coming, and in the evening we set
fairly at it, and read half the first vol. to her,
prefacing that, having intelligence from Henry
that such a work would soon appear, we had desired
him to send it whenever it came out, and I believe
it passed with her unsuspected. She was amused,
poor soul! _That_ she could not help, you know,
with two such people to lead the way, but she
really does seem to admire Elizabeth. I must
confess that I think her as delightful a creature
as ever appeared in print, and how I shall be able
to tolerate those who do not like _her_ at least I
do not know. There are a few typical[241] errors;
and a 'said he,' or a 'said she,' would sometimes
make the dialogue more immediately clear; but--

I do not write for such dull elves
As have not a great deal of ingenuity themselves.[242]

The second volume is shorter than I could wish,
but the difference is not so much in reality as in
look, there being a larger proportion of narrative
in that part. I have lop't and crop't so
successfully, however, that I imagine it must be
rather shorter than _Sense and Sensibility_
altogether. Now I will try and write of something
else; and it shall be a complete change of
subject--ordination.[243] I am glad to find your
enquiries have ended so well. If you could
discover whether Northamptonshire is a country of
hedgerows, I should be glad again.

Thursday [February 4, 1813].

Your letter was truly welcome, and I am much
obliged to you for all your praise; it came at a
right time, for I had had some fits of disgust.
Our second evening's reading to Miss Benn had not
pleased me so well, but I believe something must
be attributed to my mother's too rapid way of
getting on: though she perfectly understands the
characters herself, she cannot speak as they
ought. Upon the whole, however, I am quite vain
enough and well-satisfied enough. The work is
rather too light, and bright, and sparkling; it
wants shade; it wants to be stretched out here and
there with a long chapter of sense, if it could be
had; if not, of solemn specious nonsense, about
something unconnected with the story; an essay on
writing, a critique on Walter Scott, or the
history of Buonaparte, or anything that would form
a contrast, and bring the reader with increased
delight to the playfulness and epigrammatism of
the general style. I doubt your quite agreeing
with me here. I know your starched notions. The
caution observed at Steventon[244] with regard to
the possession of the book is an agreeable
surprise to me, and I heartily wish it may be the
means of saving you from anything unpleasant--but
you must be prepared for the neighbourhood being
perhaps already informed of there being such a
work in the world and in the Chawton world. . . .
The greatest blunder in the printing that I have met
with is in page 220, l. 3, where two speeches are
made into one.[245] There might as well have been
no supper at Longbourn; but I suppose it was the
remains of Mrs. Bennet's old Meryton habits.

Tuesday [February 9, 1813].

This will be a quick return for yours, my dear
Cassandra; I doubt its having much else to
recommend it; but there is no saying; it may turn
out to be a very long and delightful letter.

* * * * *

I am exceedingly pleased that you can say what you
do, after having gone through the whole work, and
Fanny's praise is very gratifying. My hopes were
tolerably strong of _her_, but nothing like a
certainty. Her liking Darcy and Elizabeth is
enough. She might hate all the others if she
would. I have her opinion under her own hand this
morning, but your transcript of it, which I read
first, was not, and is not, the less acceptable.
To _me_ it is of course all praise, but the more
exact truth which she sends _you_ is good
enough. . . .

* * * * *

I have been applied to for information as to the
oath taken in former times of Bell, Book, and
Candle, but have none to give. Perhaps you may be
able to learn something of its origin and meaning
at Manydown. Ladies who read those enormous great
stupid thick quarto volumes which one always sees
in the breakfast parlour there must be acquainted
with everything in the world. I detest a quarto.
Capt. Pasley's book is too good for their Society.
They will not understand a man who condenses his
thoughts into an octavo.

* * * * *

Miss Benn dined here on Friday. I have not seen
her since--there is still work for one evening
more. I know nothing of the P.'s. The C.'s are at
home, and are reduced to read. They have got Miss
Edgeworth. I have disposed of Mrs. Grant for the
second fortnight to Mrs. D. It can make no
difference to _her_ which of the twenty-six
fortnights in the year the three volumes lay in
her house.

Yours very affectionately,
J. AUSTEN.
Miss Austen, Manydown--by favour of Mr. Gray.

As she read and re-read _Pride and Prejudice_, Jane must have become aware (if she did not know it before) that she had advanced far beyond _Sense and Sensibility_. Indeed, the earlier work seems to fade out of her mind, so far as allusions to its principal characters are concerned; while those of the later novel remain vivid and attractive to their creator. Even the minor characters were real to her; and she forgot nothing--down to the marriage of Kitty to a clergyman near Pemberley, and that of Mary to one of Uncle Philips's clerks.

In this work there seemed to be hardly anything for which she need apologise. Here everything is complete; the humour, though brilliant, is yet always subordinate to the progress of the story; the plot is inevitable, and its turning-point (the first proposal of Darcy) occurs exactly when it ought; while all fear of a commonplace ending is avoided by the insertion of the celebrated interview between Lady Catherine and Elizabeth. It gives us also an excellent example of the way in which Jane Austen composed her stories. We are always in the confidence of the heroine, who is hardly off the stage throughout the whole novel; we see the other characters with her eyes, even when they are persons--like Jane Bennet--with whom we believe ourselves to be intimately acquainted. At the same time, such is the subtle irony of the author that we are quite aware of her intention to make us understand more of the heroine's state of mind than the heroine herself does, and to distinguish between her conscious and unconscious thoughts. Elizabeth has to change from hatred to love--real hatred and real love--in a volume and a half. But it would wound her self-respect if she acknowledged to herself that the pace at which she moved was so rapid; and the change is constantly only half admitted. Even near the end--when she says that, if Darcy is prevented from seeking her hand by the representations of Lady Catherine, she shall soon cease to regret him--we know that this is far from the truth: that her affection is really steadfast, and that she is only trying to disguise from herself her own anxiety. Other examples might easily be found.

On April 25, 1813, occurred the death of Eliza, Henry Austen's wife. She had suffered from a long and painful illness, and the end was 'a release at last.' These circumstances would diminish the grief felt at her loss; but the event must have carried their minds back to early days at Steventon; and Jane was sure to remember with gratitude the affection and attention which Eliza had bestowed upon her much younger cousin.

Soon afterwards, Henry went down to Chawton; and on May 20 he drove Jane up to London in his curricle. This was a short visit, and, owing to Henry's being in deep mourning, no theatres were visited. Jane went, however, to three picture-galleries--her mind still full of Bennets and Darcys.

Sloane Street: [Thursday, May 20, 1813].[246]

MY DEAR CASSANDRA,--Before I say anything else, I
claim a paper full of halfpence on the
drawing-room mantelpiece; I put them there myself,
and forgot to bring them with me. I cannot say
that I have yet been in any distress for money,
but I chuse to have my due, as well as the Devil.
How lucky we were in our weather yesterday! This
wet morning makes one more sensible of it. We had
no rain of any consequence. The head of the
curricle was put half up three or four times, but
our share of the showers was very trifling, though
they seemed to be heavy all round us, when we were
on the Hog's-back, and I fancied it might then be
raining so hard at Chawton as to make you feel for
us much more than we deserved. Three hours and a
quarter took us to Guildford, where we staid
barely two hours, and had only just time enough
for all we had to do there; that is, eating a
long, comfortable breakfast, watching the
carriages, paying Mr. Herington, and taking a
little stroll afterwards. From some views which
that stroll gave us, I think most highly of the
situation of Guildford. We wanted all our brothers
and sisters to be standing with us in the
bowling-green, and looking towards Horsham. . . . I
was very lucky in my gloves--got them at the first
shop I went to, though I went into it rather
because it was near than because it looked at all
like a glove shop, and gave only four shillings
for them; upon hearing which everybody at Chawton
will be hoping and predicting that they cannot be
good for anything, and their worth certainly
remains to be proved; but I think they look very
well. We left Guildford at twenty minutes before
twelve (I hope somebody cares for these minutiae),
and were at Esher in about two hours more. I was
very much pleased with the country in general.
Between Guildford and Ripley I thought it
particularly pretty, also about Painshill and
everywhere else; and from a Mr. Spicer's grounds
at Esher, which we walked into before our dinner,
the views were beautiful. I cannot say what we did
_not_ see, but I should think that there could not
be a wood, or a meadow, or palace, or a remarkable
spot in England that was not spread out before us
on one side or the other. Claremont is going to be
sold: a Mr. Ellis has it now. It is a house that
seems never to have prospered. . . . After dinner we
walked forward to be overtaken at the coachman's
time, and before he did overtake us we were very
near Kingston. I fancy it was about half-past six
when we reached this house--a twelve hours'
business, and the horses did not appear more than
reasonably tired. I was very tired too, and very
glad to get to bed early, but am quite well
to-day. I am very snug with the front drawing-room
all to myself, and would not say 'thank you' for
any company but you. The quietness of it does me
good. I have contrived to pay my two visits,
though the weather made me a great while about it,
and left me only a few minutes to sit with
Charlotte Craven.[247] She looks very well, and
her hair is done up with an elegance to do credit
to any education. Her manners are as unaffected
and pleasing as ever. She had heard from her
mother to-day. Mrs. Craven spends another
fortnight at Chilton. I saw nobody but Charlotte,
which pleased me best. I was shewn upstairs into a
drawing-room, where she came to me, and the
appearance of the room, so totally unschool-like,
amused me very much; it was full of all the modern
elegancies.

Monday [May 24, 1813].

I am very much obliged to you for writing to me.
You must have hated it after a worrying morning.

* * * * *

I went the day before to Layton's,[248] as I
proposed, and got my mother's gown--seven yards at
6_s._ 6_d._ I then walked into No. 10,[249] which
is all dirt and confusion, but in a very promising
way, and after being present at the opening of a
new account, to my great amusement, Henry and I
went to the exhibition in Spring Gardens. It is
not thought a good collection, but I was very well
pleased, particularly (pray tell Fanny) with a
small portrait of Mrs. Bingley,[250] excessively
like her.

I went in hopes of seeing one of her sister, but
there was no Mrs. Darcy. Perhaps, however, I may
find her in the great exhibition, which we shall
go to if we have time. I have no chance of her in
the collection of Sir Joshua Reynolds's
paintings, which is now showing in Pall Mall, and
which we are also to visit.

Mrs. Bingley's is exactly herself--size, shaped
face, features, and sweetness; there never was a
greater likeness. She is dressed in a white gown,
with green ornaments, which convinces me of what I
had always supposed, that green was a favourite
colour with her. I dare say Mrs. D. will be in
yellow.

* * * * *

The events of yesterday were, our going to
Belgrave Chapel in the morning, our being
prevented by the rain from going to evening
service at St. James, Mr. Hampson's calling,
Messrs. Barlow and Phillips[251] dining here, and
Mr. and Mrs. Tilson's[252] coming in the evening
_a l'ordinaire_. _She_ drank tea with us both
Thursday and Saturday; _he_ dined out each day,
and on Friday we were with them, and they wish us
to go to them to-morrow evening to meet Miss
Burdett, but I do not know how it will end. Henry
talks of a drive to Hampstead, which may interfere
with it.

I should like to see Miss Burdett very well, but
that I am rather frightened by hearing that she
wishes to be introduced to _me_. If I _am_ a wild
beast I cannot help it. It is not my own fault.

* * * * *

Get us the best weather you can for Wednesday,
Thursday, and Friday. We are to go to Windsor in
our way to Henley, which will be a great delight.
We shall be leaving Sloane Street about 12, two or
three hours after Charles's party have begun their
journey. You will miss them, but the comfort of
getting back into your own room will be great. And
then the tea and sugar!

* * * * *

I am very much obliged to Fanny for her letter; it
made me laugh heartily, but I cannot pretend to
answer it. Even had I more time, I should not
feel at all sure of the sort of letter that Miss
D.[253] would write. I hope Miss Benn is got well
again, and will have a comfortable dinner with you
to-day.

_Monday Evening._--We have been both to the
exhibition and Sir J. Reynolds's, and I am
disappointed, for there was nothing like Mrs. D.
at either. I can only imagine that Mr. D. prizes
any picture of her too much to like it should be
exposed to the public eye. I can imagine he would
have that sort of feeling--that mixture of love,
pride, and delicacy.

Setting aside this disappointment, I had great
amusement among the pictures; and the driving
about, the carriage being open, was very pleasant.
I liked my solitary elegance very much, and was
ready to laugh all the time at my being where I
was. I could not but feel that I had naturally
small right to be parading about London in a
barouche.

* * * * *

I should not wonder if we got no farther than
Reading on Thursday evening, and so reach
Steventon only to a reasonable dinner hour the
next day; but whatever I may write or you may
imagine we know it will be something different. I
shall be quiet to-morrow morning; all my business
is done, and I shall only call again upon Mrs.
Hoblyn, &c.

Yours affectionately,
J. AUSTEN.
Miss Austen, Chawton.

A very happy summer awaited the cottage party. Godmersham wanted painting, and its owner moved his family for some months to Chawton. There were almost daily meetings between the two houses, and the friendship between Fanny Knight and her Aunt Jane became still closer as they spent 'delicious mornings' together.

Meanwhile, Frank, in command of the _Elephant_, was stationed in the Baltic, and engaged sometimes in convoying small vessels backwards and forwards, sometimes in protecting the transports which took Bernadotte's Swedish troops to the seat of war.

The following letter from his sister Jane reached him no doubt in due course.

Chawton: [July 3, 1813].[254]

MY DEAREST FRANK,--Behold me going to write you as
handsome a letter as I can! Wish me good luck. We
have had the pleasure of hearing from you lately
through Mary, who sent us some of the particulars
of yours of June 18 (I think), written off Rugen,
and we enter into the delight of your having so
good a pilot. Why are you like Queen Elizabeth?
Because you know how to chuse wise ministers. Does
not this prove you as great a Captain as she was a
Queen? This may serve as a riddle for you to put
forth among your officers, by way of increasing
your proper consequence. It must be a real
enjoyment to you, since you are obliged to leave
England, to be where you are, seeing something of
a new country and one which has been so
distinguished as Sweden. You must have great
pleasure in it. I hope you may have gone to
Carlscroon. Your profession has its _douceurs_ to
recompense for some of its privations; to an
enquiring and observing mind like yours such
_douceurs_ must be considerable. Gustavus Vasa,
and Charles XII., and Cristina and Linneus. Do
their ghosts rise up before you? I have a great
respect for former Sweden, so zealous as it was
for Protestantism. And I have always fancied it
more like England than other countries; and,
according to the map, many of the names have a
strong resemblance to the English. July begins
unpleasantly with us, cold and showery, but it is
often a baddish month. We had some fine dry
weather preceding it, which was very acceptable to
the Holders of Hay, and the Masters of Meadows. In
general it must have been a good hay-making
season. Edward has got in all his in excellent
order; I speak only of Chawton, but here he has
better luck than Mr. Middleton ever had in the
five years that he was tenant. Good encouragement
for him to come again, and I really hope he will
do so another year. The pleasure to us of having
them here is so great that if we were not the best
creatures in the world we should not deserve it.
We go on in the most comfortable way, very
frequently dining together, and always meeting in
some part of every day. Edward is very well, and
enjoys himself as thoroughly as any Hampshire-born
Austen can desire. Chawton is not thrown away upon
him.

* * * * *

He will soon have all his children about him.
Edward, George and Charles are collected already,
and another week brings Henry and William.

* * * * *

We are in hopes of another visit from our true
lawful Henry very soon; he is to be our guest this
time. He is quite well, I am happy to say, and
does not leave it to my pen, I am sure, to
communicate to you the joyful news of his being
Deputy Receiver no longer. It is a promotion which
he thoroughly enjoys, as well he may; the work of
his own mind. He sends you all his own plans of
course. The scheme for Scotland we think an
excellent one both for himself and his
nephew.[255] Upon the whole his spirits are very
much recovered. If I may so express myself his
mind is not a mind for affliction; he is too busy,
too active, too sanguine. Sincerely as he was
attached to poor Eliza moreover, and excellently
as he behaved to her, he was always so used to be
away from her at times, that her loss is not felt
as that of many a beloved wife might be,
especially when all the circumstances of her long
and dreadful illness are taken into the account.
He very long knew that she must die, and it was
indeed a release at last. Our mourning for her is
not over, or we should be putting it on again for
Mr. Thomas Leigh, who has just closed a good life
at the age of seventy-nine.

* * * * *

Poor Mrs. L. P. [Leigh Perrot] would now have been
mistress of Stoneleigh had there been none of the
vile compromise, which in good truth has never
been allowed to be of much use to them. It will be
a hard trial.

* * * * *

You will be glad to hear that every copy of _S.
and S._ is sold, and that it has brought me L140,
besides the copyright, if that should ever be of
any value. I have now, therefore, written myself
into L250,[256] which only makes me long for more.
I have something in hand which I hope the credit
of _P. and P._ will sell well, though not half so
entertaining, and by the bye shall you object to
my mentioning the _Elephant_ in it, and two or
three other old ships? I _have_ done it, but it
shall not stay to make you angry. They are only
just mentioned.

* * * * *

I hope you continue well and brush your hair, but
not all off.

Yours very affectionately,
J. A.

On September 14, Jane left Chawton for London and Godmersham, travelling as one of her brother Edward's large family party.

FOOTNOTES:

[232] The publisher was a Mr. T. Egerton, described as of the Military Library, Whitehall. He was therefore not the same as Henry Egerton who called in Sloane St. (p. 247) _pace_ Mr. Austin Dobson in his Introduction to _Sense and Sensibility_ (Macmillan, 1896).

[233] _Sailor Brothers_, p. 237 (letter from Jane to Frank). See p. 272.

[234] We shall in future describe Jane's brother Edward as 'Mr. Knight,' and his children as 'Knight' with the Christian name prefixed; while the name 'Edward Austen' will be reserved for the author of the _Memoir_ (James's eldest son), as he was always known in the family by that name.

[235] _Memoir_, p. 11.

[236] Cassandra was now staying at Steventon; these letters to her are mainly in the _Memoir_, but are supplemented and re-arranged from family MSS.

[237] Authors of the _Rejected Addresses_ (1812).

[238] _Mansfield Park_, chapter xxiv.

[239] _Mansfield Park_, chapter xxv.

[240] _Mansfield Park_ was also published at 18_s._, _Emma_ at L1 1_s._, whereas the first edition of _Sense and Sensibility_ had cost only 15_s._

[241] I.e. typographical.

[242] 'I do not rhyme to that dull elf
Who cannot image to himself.'--_Marmion_, vi. 38.

[243] In _Mansfield Park_ (the scene of which is laid in Northamptonshire), a good deal turns on the steadfast determination of Edmund Bertram to be ordained.

[244] The caution observed at Steventon in preserving the secret of the authorship of the novels is shown in a little manuscript poem addressed by young Edward Austen to his aunt, when (at the age of fifteen or sixteen) he was at last informed that the two novels, which he already knew well, were by her.

[245] This passage occurs at the end of chapter liv. For a long time the publishers tried to put matters right by making _three_ sentences into one. Mr. Brimley Johnson's was the first edition to break up the sentences properly. See _Appendix_, p. 409-10.

[246] _Memoir_, p. 104.

[247] Afterwards, Lady Pollen, of Redenham, near Andover, and then at a school in London.

[248] Layton and Shears, a millinery establishment at 9 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.

[249] After the death of his wife, Henry Austen moved into chambers over his bank, 10 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden.

[250] This letter is full of allusions to _Pride and Prejudice_.

[251] Two of Henry Austen's clerks.

[252] Mr. Tilson was a partner of Henry Austen.

[253] Miss Darcy.

[254] _Sailor Brothers_, p. 233. One paragraph in this letter (respecting the marriage of Mr. Blackall) is quoted in Chapter VI.

[255] Edward Knight, whom his uncle Henry was about to take to Scotland. See p. 279.

[256] _Pride and Prejudice_ was sold outright to Mr. Egerton; and this implies that the sum given was L110.