On Tuesday 18 December 1798, two days after her twenty-third birthday, Jane Austen received a letter from Cassandra, who was visiting their brother Edward’s family at Godmersham Park. After a sportive opening in which Jane backhandedly acknowledges her desire to hear from Cassandra and the potential for disappointment—“Your letter came quite as soon as I expected, and so your letters will always do, because I have made it a rule not to expect them till they come, in which I think I consult the ease of us both” (18–19 December 1798)—she moves to financial matters (Cassandra’s bequest from her late fiancé, Tom Fowle, and Jane’s own acquisition of ten pounds); to improvements to her new cap, which she plans to wear to Thursday’s ball; to their brother Charles’s naval career and the family’s attempt to get him a better situation. Each of these matters is fully discussed—apparently of equal interest to both.
Jane then turns back to Cassandra’s news of the Godmersham family:
I am very much obliged to my dear little George for his messages, for his Love at least;—his Duty I suppose was only in consequence of some hint of my favourable intentions towards him from his father or Mother.—I am sincerely rejoiced however that I ever was born, since it has been the means of procuring him a dish of Tea.—Give my best Love to him.
This message from her nephew (who celebrated his third birthday the month before) is playful—aware of the likelihood of an expression of “Duty” from a three-year-old, as well as knowing about the relative importance of an absent aunt and the treat of a dish of tea. Her statement that “I am sincerely rejoiced . . . that I ever was born” affectionately deflates overstated emotion.
By contrast, the only other mention of her own birthday that I’m aware of foregrounds emotion—feelings of love and grief. On 16 December 1808, her thirty-third birthday and exactly four years after the death of her friend Anne “Madam” Lefroy, she wrote “To the memory of Mrs Lefroy, who died Dec:r 16.—my birthday.—written 1808.—” In that poem, her birthday takes on an elevated importance because of its connection to her friend. Her “natal day,” now falls with “mix’d emotions.”
The day, commemorative of my birth
Bestowing Life & Light & Hope on me,
Brings back the hour which was thy last on Earth.
Oh! bitter pang of torturing Memory!—
As the poem unfolds, she evokes the memory of her friend—making her present once more and anticipating their reunion in heaven—before she acknowledges this hope as a “harmless weakness” that she hopes Reason will “[i]ndulge” and “spare.” Here we see the complexity of birthday celebrations as we age. We not only celebrate the gift of life on the “natal day,” but we mark our losses and recognize that one more year brings us closer to death.
When what would be Jane Austen’s final birthday arrived, she began a letter to her nephew Edward, full of the high spirits with which she often addresses her nephews and nieces (16–17 December 1816). She seizes the opportunity of a missing two-and-a-half chapters of Edward’s novel-in-progress to define herself as artist (next to Walter Scott and Edward) and to playfully mock her own art as “the little bit (two Inches wide) of Ivory.” She also touches on her own ill health. Her birthday is never mentioned—but, because of that “little bit . . . of Ivory,” this letter might be the one most often quoted in the attempt to define Austen’s special quality.
Almost 250 years later, JASNA’s 2025 Annual General Meeting in Baltimore gave Jane Austen a birthday celebration she would have marveled at—or made her “sincerely rejoice[ ] . . . that [she] ever was born.” Under the direction of Jennifer Jones, “Austen at 250: ‘No check to my Genius from beginning to end’” hosted 950 in-person attendees and 280 virtual subscribers to celebrate her genius with exhibits, a ball, a film screening, a fashion show, workshops, games, dramatic performances, and—most important—many talks and panel discussions attempting to define the dimensions of Austen’s genius. Some of these are included in this issue; others will appear in Persuasions 47.
I have my own personal reason to mark this celebration. For years, Jane Austen’s birthday has occupied a special place on my calendar, and 2025 marks the twentieth year that I’ve celebrated Jane Austen’s birthday by raising a glass to Jane and by releasing an issue of Persuasions On-Line. And just as Austen’s letters and her poem to Mrs. Lefroy reflect her connections to the community in which she was embedded, Persuasions On-Line reflects this community and has been produced by the community.
Central to our endeavor are all those who read Jane Austen and think and write about her. And there are many others who make the journal what it is. Some members of our editorial board have been working on Persuasions and Persuasions On-Line for as long as or (often) even longer than I have: Inger S. B. Brodey, Juliet Prewitt Brown, Edward Copeland, Celia A. Easton, Jan Stockton Fergus, Laurie Kaplan, Juliet McMaster, Susan Morgan, and Laura Mooneyham White. And others have joined us during the last two decades, contributing their knowledge, critical skills, and sensitive reading ability to the work: Elaine Bander, Danielle Christmas, Kathryn Davis, Natasha Duquette, Roger E. Moore, Lesley Peterson, Sarah Raff, and Juliette Wells. Marsha Huff and A. Marie Sprayberry offer their proofreading and editorial skills. Iris Lutz, our Web Services Manager, solves myriad problems, and Carol Moss has built the pages for Persuasions On-Line since its inception in the summer of 1999 and suggested many of its innovations. Carol has made the journal happen.
Appropriately for this celebratory year, Persuasions On-Line 46.1 represents our largest issue ever. Besides the essays in the AGM section, we have nine essays that describe exhibitions in England and America celebrating Jane Austen’s 250th birthday. This year’s Miscellany section is especially diverse and robust. There will be more in Persuasions 47—and we hope for the next 250 years! Happy Jane Austen’s Birthday, as we sincerely rejoice that she ever was born.
