n the second edition of the
Memoir as _The Watsons_,[135] although the author had not given that, or
any other name, to it. The setting of the story was very like that of
the novels with which we are so familiar, and the characters were
sketched in with a firm hand. One of these creations in particular might
have been expected to re-appear in another book (if this work was to be
laid aside); but such a procedure was contrary to Jane Austen's
invariable practice. It is the character of a young man--Tom Musgrave by
name--a clever and good-natured toady, with rather more attractive
qualities than usually fall to the lot of the members of that
fraternity. But why was it laid aside? The writer of the _Memoir_
suggests[136] that the author may have become aware 'of the evil of
having placed her heroine too low, in a position of poverty and
obscurity, which, though not necessarily connected with vulgarity, has a
sad tendency to degenerate into it; and therefore, like a singer who has
begun on too low a note, she discontinued the strain.'

To this we may add that circumstances soon occurred to divert her mind
from original composition for a considerable period; and when at last
she returned to it, she was much more likely to think of the two
completed stories that were lying in her desk than of one that was only
begun. She did, however, retain in her recollection the outline of the
intended story. The MS. of _The Watsons_, still existing, is written on
the small sheets of paper described in the _Memoir_: sheets which could
be easily covered with a piece of blotting-paper in case of the arrival
of unexpected visitors, and which would thus fit in with her desire for
secrecy. All the pages are written in her beautifully neat handwriting;
but some seem to flow on without doubt or difficulty, while others are
subject to copious corrections. As all the MSS. of her six published
novels have perished, it is worth our while to notice her methods where
we can.

The first interruption that occurred to her writing in 1804 was of a
pleasant nature, and none of her admirers need regret it: she went to
Lyme with her family. They had been joined in their summer rambles by
the Henry Austens, who afterwards proceeded with Cassandra to Weymouth,
leaving Jane with her parents at Lyme. We have it on record that Jane
loved the sight of the beauties of nature so much that she would
sometimes say she thought it must form one of the joys of heaven; bu