n, always keeping the results to myself, nor have
they in more than two or three instances been seen by any other. But
I am about to enter active life, and prudence tells me not to waste
the time which must make my independence; yet, sir, I like writing
too well to fling aside the practice of it without an effort to
ascertain whether I could turn it to account, not in _wholly_
maintaining myself, but in aiding my maintenance, for I do not sigh
after fame, and am not ignorant of the folly or the fate of those
who, without ability, would depend for their lives upon their pens;
but I seek to know, and venture, though with shame, to ask from one
whose word I must respect: whether, by periodical or other writing, I
could please myself with writing, and make it subservient to living.

'I would not, with this view, have troubled you with a composition in
verse, but any piece I have in prose would too greatly trespass upon
your patience, which, I fear, if you look over the verse, will be
more than sufficiently tried.

'I feel the egotism of my language, but I have none, sir, in my
heart, for I feel beyond all encouragement from myself, and I hope
for none from you.

'Should you give any opinion upon what I send, it will, however
condemnatory, be most gratefully received by,--Sir, your most humble
servant,

'P. B. BRONTE.

'_P.S._--The first piece is only the sequel of one striving to depict
the fall from unguided passion into neglect, despair, and death. It
ought to show an hour too near those of pleasure for repentance, and
too near death for hope. The translations are two out of many made
from Horace, and given to assist an answer to the question--would it
be possible to obtain remuneration for translations for such as those
from that or any other classic author?'

Branwell would appear to have gone over to Ambleside to see Hartley
Coleridge, if we may judge by that next letter, written from Haworth upon
his return.

TO HARTLEY COLERIDGE

'HAWORTH, _June_ 27_th_, 1840.

'SIR,--You will, perhaps, have forgotten me, but it will be long
before I forget my first conversation with a man of real intellect,
in my first visit to the classic lakes of Westmoreland.