cannot help laughing at myself; for at this instant, while recommending contentedness to you, I am indulging an internal murmur, and vexing at what I ought to account a trifle: so much easier is it to talk or to write than to act." IN the autumn of 1802 Jane visited it a little child. A delightful circle of friends and relatives welcomed her, and she found what her Colchester associates had lacked-religious culture blended with their social refinement. The visit increased her religious thoughtfulness, and led her to feel more than ever that, beautiful as this life was, neither its beauty nor its engagements could satisfy the soul's deepest needs. Anne had already found her way to the pages of a youth's magazine called the Minor's Pocketbook. With some misgivings Jane followed her sister, and the "Beggar Boy" appeared; a small poem, which attracted sufficient notice to encourage further effort. The publishers sought the sisters out, and bespoke a book. The result was "Original Poems for Infant Minds," the delight of both parents and children from that time to this. With the renowned melodies of Mother Goose, they formed the chief capital of nursery literature in the last generation; nor have the fertile pens of the present day been altogether able to supplant them. "Original Poems" was quickly reprinted in America, and translated into Dutch and German; and such was its sudden and wellmerited popularity, that another volume was immediately asked for. The minister and his wife were naturally pleased by this unlooked-for success of their daughters; and the reception of their first earnings, ten pounds, was full of that proud and joyful excitement which belongs, and can only belong, to first things. During the autumn of 1803 and the following winter, the eastern and southern coasts of England were kept in perpetual agitation by the threatening attitude of France. Invasion was feared, and troops were kept in readiness at different points for instant use. Since Colchester was one of the chief military stations, a sense of impending danger, of course, filled the air. Every day rumour whispered fresh fears, and strong probabilities were entertained that this might be the scene of earliest conflict. Several families left town, and others prepared to do so at the shortest notice. Mr. Taylor still owned his house at Lavenham; and it being then unoccupied, it was deemed safe, at least, to send a part of the family thither, in order to have a home in readiness for more complete removal. Jane, in charge of two brothers and a little sister, led the anticipated exodus. Twice a week, a waggon of cumbrous bulk dragged its weary way through the muddy lanes of Suffolk, from Colchester to Lavenham; and into this Jane and her charge, with packages not a few, were stowed away. "And a sorry journey we had of it," she writes home; "upwards of twenty inside, and each woman had a young child. But what we suffered with heat, smells, and bad language during the day was nothing to what we suffered when night came-the road bad, the waggon so loaded that we expected to break down, and the horses so tired that we could scarcely get on. The drivers were frightened, and you may be sure the passengers were. However, at half-past nine we arrived at Mr. Langley's door, for they would not drive to ours,—and we found them waiting for us with much anxiety and more kindness. They would not hear to our going home that night, and had prepared beds for us. Our coming has excited much surprise and more alarm. We have been this morning and seen everything safely unpacked at our house. The little parlour with a nice fire, though unfurnished, looks very comfortable, and we are quite in good spirits. "Our garden is a wild paradise. What noble willows!" A few days later she writes: "I sit down to charm you, my dear mother, with an account of the kindness of our friends; but first I will tell you, for your comfort, that all the china is safely unpacked and locked up in the buffet. We came directly after breakfast, and arranged |