Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Charlotte, Emily, Anne Brontë (Illustrated) (604 page)

‘Whatever now becomes of the work, the occupation of writing it has been a boon to me.  It took me out of dark and desolate reality into an unreal but happier region.  The worst of it is, my eyes are grown somewhat weak and my head somewhat weary and prone to ache with close work.  You can write nothing of value unless you give yourself wholly to the theme, and when you so give yourself, you lose appetite and sleep — it cannot be helped.

‘At what time does Mr. Smith intend to bring the book out?  It is his now.  I hand it and all the trouble and care and anxiety over to him — a good riddance, only I wish he fairly had it. — Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
August
31
st
, 1849.

‘My dear Sir, — I cannot change my preface.  I can shed no tears before the public, nor utter any groan in the public ear.  The deep, real tragedy of our domestic experience is yet terribly fresh in my mind and memory.  It is not a time to be talked about to the indifferent; it is not a topic for allusion to in print.

‘No righteous indignation can I lavish on the
Quarterly
.  I
 
can condescend but to touch it with the lightest satire.  Believe me, my dear sir, “C. Brontë” must not here appear; what she feels or has felt is not the question — it is “Currer Bell” who was insulted — he must reply.  Let Mr. Smith fearlessly print the preface I have sent — let him depend upon me this once; even if I prove a broken reed, his fall cannot be dangerous: a preface is a short distance, it is not three volumes.

‘I have always felt certain that it is a deplorable error in an author to assume the tragic tone in addressing the public about his own wrongs or griefs.  What does the public care about him as an individual?  His wrongs are its sport; his griefs would be a bore.  What we deeply feel is our own — we must keep it to ourselves.  Ellis and Acton Bell were, for me, Emily and Anne; my sisters — to me intimately near, tenderly dear — to the public they were nothing — worse than nothing — beings speculated upon, misunderstood, misrepresented.  If I live, the hour may come when the spirit will move me to speak of them, but it is not come yet. — I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
September
17, 1849.

‘My dear Sir, — Your letter gave me great pleasure.  An author who has showed his book to none, held no consultation about plan, subject, characters, or incidents, asked and had no opinion from one living being, but fabricated it darkly in the silent workshop of his own brain — such an author awaits with a singular feeling the report of the first impression produced by his creation in a quarter where he places confidence, and truly glad he is when that report proves favourable.

‘Do you think this book will tend to strengthen the idea that Currer Bell is a woman, or will it favour a contrary opinion?

‘I return the proof-sheets.  Will they print all the French phrases in italics?  I hope not, it makes them look somehow obtrusively conspicuous.

 
‘I have no time to add more lest I should be too late for the post. — Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
September
10
th
, 1849.

‘Dear Sir, — Your advice is very good, and yet I cannot follow it: I
cannot
alter now.  It sounds absurd, but so it is.

‘The circumstances of Shirley’s being nervous on such a matter may appear incongruous because I fear it is not well managed; otherwise it is perfectly natural.  In such minds, such odd points, such queer unexpected inconsistent weaknesses
are
found — perhaps there never was an ardent poetic temperament, however healthy, quite without them; but they never communicate them unless forced, they have a suspicion that the terror is absurd, and keep it hidden.  Still the thing is badly managed, and I bend my head and expect in resignation what,
here
, I know I deserve — the lash of criticism.  I shall wince when it falls, but not scream.

‘You are right about Goth, you are very right — he is clear, deep, but very cold.  I acknowledge him great, but cannot feel him genial.

‘You mention the literary coteries.  To speak the truth, I recoil from them, though I long to see some of the truly great literary characters.  However, this is not to be yet — I cannot sacrifice my incognito.  And let me be content with seclusion — it has its advantages.  In general, indeed, I am tranquil, it is only now and then that a struggle disturbs me — that I wish for a wider world than Haworth.  When it is past, Reason tells me how unfit I am for anything very different.  Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
September
15
th
, 1849.

‘My dear Sir, — You observed that the French of
Shirley
might be cavilled at.  There is a long paragraph written in the French language in that chapter entitled “
Le coeval damped
.”  I forget the number.  I fear it will have a pretentious air.  If
 
you deem it advisable, and will return the chapter, I will efface, and substitute something else in English. — Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL

‘
September
20
th
, 1849.

‘My dear Sir, — It is time I answered the note which I received from you last Thursday; I should have replied to it before had I not been kept more than usually engaged by the presence of a clergyman in the house, and the indisposition of one of our servants.

‘As you may conjecture, it cheered and pleased me much to learn that the opinion of my friends in Cornhill was favourable to
Shirley
— that, on the whole, it was considered no falling off from
Jane Eyre
.  I am trying, however, not to encourage too sanguine an expectation of a favourable reception by the public: the seeds of prejudice have been sown, and I suppose the produce will have to be reaped — but we shall see.

‘I read with pleasure
Friends in Council
, and with very great pleasure
The Thoughts and Opinions of a Statesman
.  It is the record of what may with truth be termed a beautiful mind — serene, harmonious, elevated, and pure; it bespeaks, too, a heart full of kindness and sympathy.  I like it much.

‘Papa has been pretty well during the past week, he begs to join me in kind remembrances to yourself. — Believe me, my dear sir, yours very sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
September
29
th
, 1849.

‘Dear Sir, — I have made the alteration; but I have made it to please Cornhill, not the public nor the critics.

‘I am sorry to say Newby does know my real name.  I wish he did not, but that cannot be helped.  Meantime, though I earnestly wish to preserve my incognito, I live under no slavish fear of discovery.  I am ashamed of nothing I have written — not a line.

‘The envelope containing the first proof and your letter had
 
been received open at the General Post Office and resealed there.  Perhaps it was accident, but I think it better to inform you of the circumstance. — Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
October
1
st
, 1849.

‘My dear Sir, — I am chagrined about the envelope being opened: I see it is the work of prying curiosity, and now it would be useless to make a stir — what mischief is to be apprehended is already done.  It was not done at Haworth.  I know the people of the post-office there, and am sure they would not venture on such a step; besides, the Haworth people have long since set me down as bookish and quiet, and trouble themselves no farther about me.  But the gossiping inquisitiveness of small towns is rife at Keighley; there they are sadly puzzled to guess why I never visit, encourage no overtures to acquaintance, and always stay at home.  Those packets passing backwards and forwards by the post have doubtless aggravated their curiosity.  Well, I am sorry, but I shall try to wait patiently and not vex myself too much, come what will.

‘I am glad you like the English substitute for the French
devour
.

‘The parcel of books came on Saturday.  I write to Mr. Taylor by this post to acknowledge its receipt.  His opinion of
Shirley
seems in a great measure to coincide with yours, only he expresses it rather differently to you, owing to the difference in your casts of mind.  Are you not different on some points? — Yours sincerely,

‘C. Brontë.’

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

‘
November
1
st
, 1849

‘My dear Sir, — I reached home yesterday, and found your letter and one from Mr. Lewes, and one from the Peace Congress Committee, awaiting my arrival.  The last document it is now too late to answer, for it was an invitation to Currer Bell to appear on the platform at their meeting at Exeter Hall last Tuesday!  A wonderful figure Mr. Currer Bell would have cut
 
under such circumstances!  Should the “Peace Congress” chance to read
Shirley
they will wash their hands of its author.

‘I am glad to hear that Mr. Thackeray is better, but I did not know he had been seriously ill, I thought it was only a literary indisposition.  You must tell me what he thinks of
Shirley
if he gives you any opinion on the subject.

‘I am also glad to hear that Mr. Smith is pleased with the commercial prospects of the work.  I try not to be anxious about its literary fate; and if I cannot be quite stoical, I think I am still tolerably resigned.

‘Mr. Lewes does not like the opening chapter, wherein he resembles you.

‘I have permitted myself the treat of spending the last week with my friend Ellen.  Her residence is in a far more populous and stirring neighbourhood than this.  Whenever I go there I am unavoidably forced into society — clerical society chiefly.

‘During my late visit I have too often had reason, sometimes in a pleasant, sometimes in a painful form, to fear that I no longer walk invisible. 
Jane Eyre
, it appears, has been read all over the district — a fact of which I never dreamt — a circumstance of which the possibility never occurred to me.  I met sometimes with new deference, with augmented kindness: old schoolfellows and old teachers, too, greeted me with generous warmth.  And again, ecclesiastical brows lowered thunder at me.  When I confronted one or two large-made priests, I longed for the battle to come on.  I wish they would speak out plainly.  You must not understand that my schoolfellows and teachers were of the Clergy Daughters School — in fact, I was never there but for one little year as a very little girl.  I am certain I have long been forgotten; though for myself, I remember all and everything clearly: early impressions are ineffaceable.

‘I have just received the
Daily News
.  Let me speak the truth — when I read it my heart sickened over it.  It is not a good review, it is unutterably false.  If
Shirley
strikes all readers as it has struck that one, but — I shall not say what follows.

‘On the whole I am glad a decidedly bad notice has come first — a notice whose inexpressible ignorance first stuns and
 
then stirs me.  Are there no such men as the Helstones and Yorkes?

‘Yes, there are.

‘Is the first chapter disgusting or vulgar?

‘
It is not
,
it is real
.

‘As for the praise of such a critic, I find it silly and nauseous, and I scorn it.

‘Were my sisters now alive they and I would laugh over this notice; but they sleep, they will wake no more for me, and I am a fool to be so moved by what is not worth a sigh. — Believe me, yours sincerely,