_Old Hum._ It is for that reason that I wish you to follow my advice.
Are you convinced of its propriety?
_Young Hum._ I am, sir, and will certainly act in the manner you have pointed out to me.
_Old Hum._ Then let us return to the house. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.--_A parlour in_ HUMBUG"S _house_. Mrs. HUMBUG _and_ f.a.n.n.y _discovered at work._
_Mrs. Hum._ You understand me, my love?
_f.a.n.n.y._ Perfectly, ma"am: pray continue your narration.
_Mrs. Hum._ Alas! it is nearly concluded; for I have nothing more to say on the subject.
_f.a.n.n.y._ Ah! here is Daphne.
_Enter_ DAPHNE.
_Daphne._ My dear Mrs. Humbug, how d"ye do? Oh! f.a.n.n.y, it is all over.
_f.a.n.n.y._ Is it indeed!
_Mrs. Hum._ I"m very sorry to hear it.
_f.a.n.n.y._ Then "twas to no purpose that I----
_Daphne._ None upon earth.
_Mrs. Hum._ And what is to become of----?
_Daphne._ Oh! "tis all settled. (_Whispers_ Mrs. HUMBUG.)
_f.a.n.n.y._ And how is it determined?
_Daphne._ I"ll tell you. (_Whispers_ f.a.n.n.y.)
_Mrs. Hum._ And is he to----?
_Daphne._ I"ll tell you all I know of the matter. (_Whispers_ Mrs.
HUMBUG _and_ f.a.n.n.y.)
_f.a.n.n.y._ Well, now I know everything about it, I"ll go away.
_Mrs. Hum._} And so will I. [_Exeunt._ _Daphne._ }
SCENE III.--_The curtain rises, and discovers_ Sir EDWARD SPANGLE _reclined in an elegant att.i.tude on a sofa fast asleep._
_Enter_ Col. ELLIOTT.
_Col. E._ My daughter is not here, I see. There lies Sir Edward. Shall I tell him the secret? No, he"ll certainly blab it. But he"s asleep, and won"t hear me, so I"ll e"en venture. (_Goes up to_ Sir EDWARD, _whispers him, and exit._)
_End of the First Act. Finis._
A somewhat later venture, pure extravaganza, called _Evelyn_ is dedicated, by permission, to Miss Mary Lloyd.
The ma.n.u.script volume which contains _Evelyn_ is grandly ent.i.tled on the outside "Volume the Third"; on the inside "Effusions of Fancy by a very Young Lady, consisting of Tales in a Style entirely new." It contains one other tale, unfinished, but of considerable length, called _Kitty or the Bower_, which is preceded by the following dedication, dated "Steventon, August 1792."
TO MISS AUSTEN.
MADAM,--Encouraged by your warm patronage of _The Beautiful Ca.s.sandra_ and _The History of England_, which, through your generous support, have obtained a place in every library in the Kingdom, and run through four score editions, I take the liberty of begging the same Exertions in favour of the following novel, which I humbly flatter myself possesses Merit beyond any already published, or any that will ever in future appear, except such as may proceed from the pen of your most grateful
Humble Servant, THE AUTHOR.
The tale begins in characteristic style, which suggests the later _Northanger Abbey_.
Catharine had the misfortune, as many heroines have had before her, of losing her parents when she was very young, and of being brought up under the care of a maiden aunt, who, while she tenderly loved her, watched her conduct with so scrutinizing a severity as to make it very doubtful to many people, and to Catharine among the rest, whether she loved her or not.
Catharine lives with this aunt in Devonshire, five miles from Exeter.
Some friends of her aunt, a Mr. Stanley, M.P., his wife and daughter (very foolish, and suggestive of Isabella Thorpe) come to visit them.
Mr. Stanley"s son turns up unexpectedly and pays great attention to Catharine, much to the disgust of the aunt, who has a detestation of all young men. The tale comes to an abrupt conclusion with the departure of the guests. The story is at times amusing, but obviously immature, and we need not regret that it was never finished.
Other early sketches are _Henry and Eliza_, dedicated to Miss Cooper, which must have been written before the latter"s marriage at the end of 1792; _The Visit_, dedicated to the Rev. James Austen; _Jack and Alice_, and _Adventures of Mr. Harley_, dedicated to Francis William Austen, Esq., midshipman on board H.M.S. _Perseverance_ (soon after 1788), and other pieces dedicated to Charles John Austen, Esq.
_Evelyn_ and _Kitty_ seem to mark a second stage in her literary education: when she was hesitating between burlesque and immature story-telling, and when indeed it seemed as if she were first taking note of all the faults to be avoided, and curiously considering how she ought _not_ to write before she attempted to put forth her strength in the right direction.
[40]"Her own mature opinion of the desirableness of such an early habit of composition is given in the following words of a niece:--
As I grew older, my aunt would talk to me more seriously of my reading and my amus.e.m.e.nts. I had taken early to writing verses and stories, and I am sorry to think how I troubled her with reading them. She was very kind about it, and always had some praise to bestow, but at last she warned me against spending too much time upon them. She said--how well I recollect it!--that she knew writing stories was a great amus.e.m.e.nt, and _she_ thought a harmless one, though many people, she was aware, thought otherwise; but that at my age it would be bad for me to be much taken up with my own compositions. Later still--it was after she had gone to Winchester--she sent me a message to this effect, that if I would take her advice I should cease writing till I was sixteen; that she had herself often wished she had read more, and written less in the corresponding years of her own life.
"As this niece was only twelve years old at the time of her aunt"s death, these words seem to imply that the juvenile tales which we have mentioned had, some of them at least, been written in her childhood; while others were separated only by a very few years from the period which included specimens of her most brilliant writing."
In the summer of 1788, when the girls were fifteen and twelve respectively, they accompanied their parents on a visit to their great-uncle, old Mr. Francis Austen, at Sevenoaks. Though Jane had been to Oxford, Southampton, and Reading before, it is probable that this was her first visit into Kent, and, what must have been more interesting still, her first visit to London. We have no clue as to where the party stayed in town, but one of Eliza de Feuillide"s letters to Philadelphia Walter mentions that they dined with Eliza and her mother on their way back to Hampshire.
They talked much of the satisfaction their visit into Kent had afforded them. What did you think of my uncle"s looks? I was much pleased with them, and if possible he appeared more amiable than ever to me. What an excellent and pleasing man he is; I love him most sincerely, as indeed I do all the family. I believe it was your first acquaintance with Ca.s.sandra and Jane.
Though Philadelphia"s reply to this letter has not been preserved, we have a letter of hers to her brother. Writing on July 23, she says:--
Yesterday I began an acquaintance with my two female cousins, Austens. My uncle, aunt, Ca.s.sandra, and Jane arrived at Mr. F. Austen"s the day before. We dined with them there. As it"s pure nature to love ourselves, I may be allowed to give the preference to the eldest, who is generally reckoned a most striking resemblance of me in features, complexion, and manners. I never found myself so much disposed to be vain, as I can"t help thinking her very pretty, but fancied I could discover _she_ was not so well pleased with the comparison, which reflection abated a great deal of the vanity so likely to arise and so proper to be suppres"t. The youngest [Jane] is very like her brother Henry, not at all pretty and very prim, unlike a girl of twelve; but it is hasty judgment which you will scold me for. My aunt has lost several fore-teeth, which makes her look old; my uncle is quite white-haired, but looks vastly well; all in high spirits and disposed to be pleased with each other.
A day or two later, Philadelphia wrote further:--
I continue to admire my amiable likeness the best of the two in every respect; she keeps up conversation in a very sensible and pleasing manner. Yesterday they all spent the day with us, and the more I see of Ca.s.sandra the more I admire [her]. Jane is whimsical and affected.
"Not at all pretty," "whimsical and affected." "Poor Jane!" one is tempted to exclaim, but whatever she would have said to this estimate of herself, of one thing we may be perfectly sure: that she would have been the first to agree with her critic as to her own absolute inferiority to Ca.s.sandra.