dictates of conscience more than to those of
inclination. I have no personal repugnance to the idea of a union
with you, but I feel convinced that mine is not the sort of
disposition calculated to form the happiness of a man like you. It
has always been my habit to study the characters of those amongst
whom I chance to be thrown, and I think I know yours and can imagine
what description of woman would suit you for a wife. The character
should not be too marked, ardent, and original, her temper should be
mild, her piety undoubted, her spirits even and cheerful, and her
_personal attractions_ sufficient to please your eyes and gratify
your just pride. As for me, you do not know me; I am not the
serious, grave, cool-headed individual you suppose; you would think
me romantic and eccentric; you would say I was satirical and severe.
However, I scorn deceit, and I will never, for the sake of attaining
the distinction of matrimony and escaping the stigma of an old maid,
take a worthy man whom I am conscious I cannot render happy. Before
I conclude, let me thank you warmly for your other proposal regarding
the school near Donnington. It is kind in you to take so much
interest about me; but the fact is, I could not at present enter upon
such a project because I have not the capital necessary to insure
success. It is a pleasure to me to hear that you are so comfortably
settled and that your health is so much improved. I trust God will
continue His kindness towards you. Let me say also that I admire the
good-sense and absence of flattery and cant which your letter
displayed. Farewell. I shall always be glad to hear from you as a
_friend_.--Believe me, yours truly,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _March_ 12_th_, 1839.

'MY DEAREST ELLEN,--When your letter was put into my hands, I said,
"She is coming at last, I hope," but when I opened it and found what
the contents were, I was vexed to the heart. You need not ask me to
go to Brookroyd any more. Once for all, and at the hazard of being
called the most stupid little wretch that ever existed, I _won't_ go
till you have been to Haworth. I don't blame _you_, I believe you
would come if you might; pe