One may imagine for how many centuries the ancestors of those
little flowers have occupied that undisturbed, sunny nook, and may think
how few living families can boast of as ancient a tenure of their land.
Large elms protrude their rough branches; old hawthorns shed their annual
blossoms over the graves; and the hollow yew-tree must be at least coeval
with the church.
[Steventon Manor House: ManorHouse.jpg]
But whatever may be the beauties or defects of the surrounding scenery,
this was the residence of Jane Austen for twenty-five years. This was
the cradle of her genius. These were the first objects which inspired
her young heart with a sense of the beauties of nature. In strolls along
those wood-walks, thick-coming fancies rose in her mind, and gradually
assumed the forms in which they came forth to the world. In that simple
church she brought them all into subjection to the piety which ruled her
in life, and supported her in death.
The home at Steventon must have been, for many years, a pleasant and
prosperous one. The family was unbroken by death, and seldom visited by
sorrow.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42