irmed in the
young man: I tried hard to persuade him that he
must have some message for William,[355] but in
vain. . . . This is not a time of year for
donkey-carriages, and our donkeys are necessarily
having so long a run of luxurious idleness that I
suppose we shall find they have forgotten much of
their education when we use them again. We do not
use two at once, however; don't imagine such
excesses. . . . Our own new clergyman[356] is
expected here very soon, perhaps in time to assist
Mr. Papillon on Sunday. I shall be very glad when
the first hearing is over. It will be a nervous
hour for our pew, though we hear that he acquits
himself with as much ease and collectedness, as if
he had been used to it all his life. We have no
chance we know of seeing you between Streatham and
Winchester: you go the other road and are engaged
to two or three houses; if there should be any
change, however, you know how welcome you would
be. . . .

We have been reading the _Poet's Pilgrimage to
Waterloo_,[357] and generally with much
approbation. Nothing will please all the world,
you know; but parts of it suit me better than much
that he has written before. The opening--_the
proem_ I believe he calls it--is very beautiful.
Poor man! one cannot but grieve for the loss of
the son so fondly described. Has he at all
recovered it? What do Mr. and Mrs. Hill know about
his present state?

Yours aff^{ly},
J. AUSTEN.

The real object of this letter is to ask you for a
receipt, but I thought it genteel not to let it
appear early. We remember some excellent orange
wine at Manydown, made from Seville oranges,
entirely or chiefly. I should be very much obliged
to you for the receipt, if you can command it
within a few weeks.

Three days later, Jane felt well enough to set to work on a fresh novel:
thoroughly fresh, for it bore no resemblance to any of her previous
stories. A short _resume_ of this beginning is given in the _Memoir_,
and from it the reader will see that the scene is