my book, but their reader—­Mr. Williams, who discovered Charlotte Bronte’s genius when she sent them “The Professor,” and told her she could write a better, which she did ("Jane Eyre")—­wrote a similiar letter to me, declining “Clara Morison,” as he had declined “The Professor,” but saying I could do better.  J. W. Parker & Son published it in 1854, as one of the two-volume series, of which “The Heir of Redcliffe” had been most successful.  The price was to be 40 pounds; but, as it was too long for the series, I was charged 10 pounds for abridging it.  It was very fairly received and reviewed.  I think I liked best Frederick Sinnett’s notice in The Argus—­that it was the work of an observant woman—­a novelist who happened to live in Australia, but who did not labour to bring in bushrangers and convicts, and specially Australian features.  While I was waiting to hear the fate of my first book, I began to write a second, “Tender and True,” of which Mr. Williams thought better, and recommended it to Smith, Elder, and Co., who published it in two volumes in 1856, and gave me 20 pounds for the copyright.  This is the only one of my books that went through more than one edition.  There were two or three large editions issued, but I never got a penny more.  I was told that nothing could be made out of shilling editions; but that book was well reviewed and now and then I have met elderly people who read the cheap edition and liked it.  The motif of the book was the jealousy which husbands are apt to feel of their wives’ relations.  As if the most desirable wife was an amiable orphan—­if an heiress, so much the better.  But the domestic virtues which make a happy home for the husband are best fostered in a centre where brothers and sisters have to give and take; and a good daughter and sister is likely to make a good wife and mother.  I have read quite recently that the jokes against the mother-in-law which are so many and so bitter in English and American journalism are worn out, and have practically ceased; but Dickens and Thackeray set the fashion, and it lasted a long time.

While “Clara Morison” was making her debut, I paid my first visit to Melbourne.  I went with Mr. and Mrs. Stirling in a French ship consigned to him, and we were 12 days on the way, suffering from the limited ideas that the captain of a French merchantman had of the appetites of Australians at sea.  I intended to pay a six weeks’ visit to my sister and her family, but she was so unwell that I stayed for eight months.  I found that Melbourne in the beginning of 1854 was a very expensive place to live in, and consequently a very inhospitable place.  Mr. Murray’s salary sounded a good one, 500 pounds a year, but it did not get much comfort.  His sister was housekeeper at Charles Williamson & Co.’s, and that was the only place where I could take off my bonnet and have a meal.  From the windows I watched the procession that welcomed Sir Charles Hotham, the first Governor of the separated