This is the last letter we possess dealing with Anna"s story; and we can understand that the attention of either writer was soon diverted from it by more serious considerations: that of Anna by family cares, that of her aunt by Henry"s illness and bankruptcy, and by her own publication of _Emma_ and subsequent failure of health. The last history of the MS.
was sad enough. After the death of her kind critic, Anna could not induce herself to go on with the tale; the a.s.sociations were too melancholy. Long afterwards, she took it out of its drawer, and, in a fit of despondency, threw it into the fire. Her daughter, who tells us this, adds that she herself--a little girl--was sitting on the rug, and remembers that she watched the destruction, amused with the flame.
A similar fate befell a tragedy written at a very early age by Anna"s little sister Caroline, who was her junior by about twelve years.
Caroline believed it to be a necessary part of a tragedy that all the _dramatis personae_ should somehow meet their end, by violence or otherwise, in the last act; and this belief produced such a scene of carnage and woe as to cause fits of laughter among unsympathetic elders, and tears to the author, who threw the unfortunate tragedy into the fire on the spot.
Caroline, however, continued to write stories; and some of them are alluded to in a series of little childish letters written to her by her Aunt Jane, which survive, carefully pieced together with silver paper and gum, and which are worth preserving for the presence in them of love and playfulness, and the entire absence of condescension.
December 6.
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--I wish I could finish stories as fast as you can. I am much obliged to you for the sight of Olivia, and think you have done for her very well; but the good-for-nothing father, who was the real author of all her faults and sufferings, should not escape unpunished. I hope _he_ hung himself, or took the sur-name of _Bone_ or underwent some direful penance or other.
Yours affectionately, J. AUSTEN.
Chawton: Monday, July 15.
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--I have followed your directions and find your handwriting admirable. If you continue to improve as much as you have done, perhaps I may not be obliged to shut my eyes at all half a year hence. I have been very much entertained by your story of Carolina and her aged father; it made me laugh heartily, and I am particularly glad to find you so much alive upon any topic of such absurdity, as the usual description of a heroine"s father. You have done it full justice, or, if anything be wanting, it is the information of the venerable old man"s having married when only twenty-one, and being a father at twenty-two.
I had an early opportunity of conveying your letter to Mary Jane, having only to throw it out of window at her as she was romping with your brother in the Back Court. She thanks you for it, and answers your questions through me. I am to tell you that she has pa.s.sed her time at Chawton very pleasantly indeed, that she does not miss Ca.s.sy so much as she expected, and that as to _Diana Temple_, she is ashamed to say it has never been worked at since you went away. . . .
Edward"s visit has been a great pleasure to us. He has not lost one good quality or good look, and is only altered in being improved by being some months older than when we saw him last. He is getting very near our own age, for _we_ do not grow older of course.
Yours affectionately, J. AUSTEN.
Chawton: Wednesday, March. 13 [1815].
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--I am very glad to have an opportunity of answering your agreeable little letter. You seem to be quite my own niece in your feelings towards Mme. de Genlis. I do not think I could even now, at my sedate time of life, read _Olympe et Theophile_ without being in a rage. It really is too bad! Not allowing them to be happy together when they _are_ married. Don"t talk of it, pray. I have just lent your Aunt Frank the first volume of _Les Veillees du Chateau_, for Mary Jane to read. It will be some time before she comes to the horror of Olympe. . . .
I had a very nice letter from your brother not long ago, and I am quite happy to see how much his hand is improving. I am convinced that it will end in a very gentlemanlike hand, much above par.
We have had a great deal of fun lately with post-chaises stopping at the door; three times within a few days we had a couple of agreeable visitors turn in unexpectedly--your Uncle Henry and Mr. Tilson, Mrs. Heathcote and Miss Bigg, your Uncle Henry and Mr. Seymour. Take notice it was the same Uncle Henry each time.
I remain, my dear Caroline, Your affectionate Aunt, J. AUSTEN.
Hans Place: Monday night [October 30, 1815].
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--I have not felt quite equal to taking up your Ma.n.u.script, but think I shall soon, and I hope my detaining it so long will be no inconvenience. It gives us great pleasure that you should be at Chawton. I am sure Ca.s.sy must be delighted to have you. You will practise your music of course, and I trust to you for taking care of my instrument and not letting it be ill-used in any respect. Do not allow anything to be put on it but what is very light. I hope you will try to make out some other tune besides the Hermit. . . .
I am sorry you got wet in your ride; now that you are become an Aunt[342] you are a person of some consequence and must excite great interest whatever you do. I have always maintained the importance of Aunts as much as possible, and I am sure of your doing the same now.
Believe me, my dear Sister-Aunt, Yours affectionately, J. AUSTEN.
[January 23, 1817.]
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--I am always very much obliged to you for writing to me, and have now I believe two or three notes to thank you for; but whatever may be their number, I mean to have this letter accepted as a handsome return for all, for you see I have taken a complete, whole sheet of paper, which is to ent.i.tle me to consider it as a very long letter whether I write much or little.
We were quite happy to see Edward, it was an unexpected pleasure, and he makes himself as agreeable as ever, sitting in such a quiet comfortable way making his delightful little sketches. He is generally thought grown since he was here last, and rather thinner, but in very good looks. . . . He read his two chapters to us the first evening--both good, but especially the last in our opinion. We think it has more of the spirit and entertainment of the early part of his work.[343] . . .
I feel myself getting stronger than I was half a year ago, and can so perfectly well walk to Alton, _or_ back again, without the slightest fatigue that I hope to be able to do both when summer comes. I spent two or three days with your Uncle and Aunt[344] lately, and though the children are sometimes very noisy and not under such order as they ought and easily might, I cannot help liking them and even loving them, which I hope may be not wholly inexcusable in their and your affectionate Aunt,
J. AUSTEN.
The Pianoforte often talks of you; in various keys, tunes, and expressions, I allow--but be it Lesson or Country Dance, Sonata or Waltz, _you_ are really its constant theme. I wish you could come and see us, as easily as Edward can.
J. A.
Wednesday night. [1817.]
You send me great news indeed, my dear Caroline, about Mr. Digweed, Mr. Trimmer, and a Grand Pianoforte. I wish it had been a small one, as then you might have pretended that Mr. D."s rooms were too damp to be fit for it, and offered to take charge of it at the Parsonage. . . .
I look forward to the four new chapters with pleasure.--But how can you like Frederick better than Edgar? You have some eccentric tastes however, I know, as to Heroes and Heroines.
Goodbye.
Yours affectionately, J. AUSTEN.
Chawton: Wednesday, March 26 [1817].
MY DEAR CAROLINE,--Pray make no apologies for writing to me often, I am always very happy to hear from you. . . .
I think you very much improved in your writing, and in the way to write a very pretty hand. I wish you could practise your fingering oftener. Would not it be a good plan for you to go and live entirely at Mr. Wm. Digweed"s? He could not desire any other remuneration than the pleasure of hearing you practise.
I like Frederick and Caroline better than I did, but must still prefer Edgar and Julia. Julia is a warm-hearted, ingenuous, natural girl, which I like her for; but I know the word _natural_ is no recommendation to you. . . .
How very well Edward is looking! You can have n.o.body in your neighbourhood to vie with him at all, except Mr. Portal. I have taken one ride on the donkey and like it very much--and you must try to get me quiet, mild days, that I may be able to go out pretty constantly. A great deal of wind does not suit me, as I have still a tendency to rheumatism. In short I am a poor honey at present.
I will be better when you can come and see us.
Yours affectionately, J. AUSTEN.
Caroline Austen contributed to the _Memoir_ written by her brother many of the personal reminiscences of their aunt. She was the niece to whom Jane in her last illness sent a recommendation to read more and write less during the years of girlhood. Caroline obeyed the injunction; she became a very well-read woman, and never wrote stories for publication.
She was, however, an admirable talker: able to invest common things with a point and spirit peculiarly her own. She was also an ideal aunt, both to nieces and nephews, who all owe a great deal to her companionship and devotion.
FOOTNOTES:
[332] The first two batches of letters are to be found in Lord Brabourne"s book, vol. ii. p. 277 _et seq._; of the third set (to Caroline) only a few isolated quotations have been published. The second and third sets have been compared with the originals, but we have been unable to do this in the case of the first.
[333] Ca.s.sandra was evidently not in the secret; and we learn from their niece Anna the interesting fact that, close and intimate as were the relations between the two sisters, they were absolutely silent to each other when the confidences of a third person had to be guarded.
[334] Perhaps in March 1814.
[335] Lord Brabourne dates them in 1816, and Mr. Oscar Fay Adams and Miss Hill naturally follow him; but such a date is impossible, as they contain allusions to two or three family events which had not then happened. This correction makes the account of her own health in the letters of March 13 and March 23 (which will be found in Chap. XX, p.