l happiness in
life for her had apparently ended, when this marriage brought a brief
ray of sunshine. It was a happy union, and seemed to assure a period of
peace and rest for the sorely tried soul. Only a few short months,
however, and fate, as if grudging her even the bit of happiness, snapped
the slender threads of her life and the whole sad episode of her
existence was ended. She died March 31st, 1855, leaving her husband and
father to mourn together in the lonely parsonage. She left a literary
fragment--the story entitled 'Emma,' which was published with an
introduction by Thackeray.

Such are the main facts of this reserved life of Charlotte Bronte. Are
they dull and commonplace? Some of them are indeed inexpressibly sad.
Tragedy is beneath all the bitter chronicle. The sadness of her days can
be appreciated by all who read her books. Through all her stories there
is an intense note, especially in treating the pathos of existence, that
is unmistakably subjective. There is a keen perception of the darker
depths of human nature that could have been revealed to a human heart
only by suffering and sorrow.

She did not allow sadness, however, to crush her spirit. She was neither
morbid nor melancholy, but on the contrary Charlotte was cheerful and
pleasant in disposition and manner. She was a loving sister and devoted
daughter, patient and obedient to a parent who afterwards made obedience
a severe hardship. There were other sides to her character. She was not
always calm. She was not ever tender and a maker of allowances. But who
is such? And she had good reason to be impatient with the world as
she found it.

Her character and disposition are partially reflected in 'Jane Eyre.'
The calm, clear mind, the brave, independent spirit are there. But a
fuller and more accurate picture of her character may be found in Lucy
Snowe, the heroine of 'Villette.' Here we find especially that note of
hopelessness that predominated in Charlotte's character. Mrs. Gaskell,
in her admirable biography of Charlotte Bronte, has called attention to
this absence of hope in her nature. Charlotte indeed never allowed
herself to look forward to happy issues. She had no confidence in the
future. The pressure of grief apparently crushed all buoyancy of
expectation. It was in this attitude that when literary success greeted
her, she made little of it, scarcely allowing herself to believe that
the world really set a high value on her work. Throu