[Footnote 1: This odious law has now been altered, and a married woman is
a person, not a chattel.]

From time to time after that, I earned a few pounds for stories in the
same journal; and the _Family Herald,_ let me say, has one peculiarity
which should render it beloved by poor authors; it pays its contributor
when it accepts the paper, whether it prints it immediately or not; thus
my first story was not printed for some weeks after I received the
cheque, and it was the same with all others accepted by the same journal.
Encouraged by these small successes, I began writing a novel! It took a
long time to do, but was at last finished, and sent off to the _Family
Herald._ The poor thing came back, but with a kind note, telling me that
it was too political for their pages, but that if I would write one of
"purely domestic interest", and up to the same level, it would probably
be accepted. But by that time I was in the full struggle of theological
doubt, and that novel of "purely domestic interest" never got itself
written.

I contributed further to the literature of my country a theological
pamphlet, of which I forget the exact title, but it dealt with the duty
of fasting incumbent on all faithful Christians, and was very patristic
in its tone.

In January, 1869, my little son was born, and as I was very ill for some
months before,--and was far too much interested in the tiny creature
afterwards, to devote myself to pen and paper, my literary career was
checked for a while. The baby gave a new interest and a new pleasure to
life, and as we could not afford a nurse I had plenty to do in looking
after his small majesty. My energy in reading became less feverish when