frequently repeated which she gives to ’Jane Eyre,’ of carrying a little wailing child, and being unable to still it.  She described herself as having the most painful sense of pity for the little thing, lying inert, as sick children do, while she walked about in some gloomy place with it, such as the aisle of Haworth Church.  The misfortunes she mentioned were not always to herself.  She thought such sensitiveness to omens was like the cholera, present to susceptible people,—­some feeling more, some less.”

About the beginning of 1834, “E.” went to London for the first time.  The idea of her friend’s visit seems to have stirred Charlotte strangely.  She appears to have formed her notions of its probable consequences from some of the papers in the “British Essayists,” “The Rambler,” “The Mirror,” or “The Lounger,” which may have been among the English classics on the parsonage bookshelves; for she evidently imagines that an entire change of character for the worse is the usual effect of a visit to “the great metropolis,” and is delighted to find that “E.” is “E.” still.  And, as her faith in her friend’s stability is restored, her own imagination is deeply moved by the idea of what great wonders are to be seen in that vast and famous city.

   “Haworth, February 20th, 1834.

“Your letter gave me real and heartfelt pleasure, mingled with no small share of astonishment.  Mary had previously informed me of your departure for London, and I had not ventured to calculate on any communication from you while surrounded by the splendours and novelties of that great city, which has been called the mercantile metropolis of Europe.  Judging from human nature, I thought that a little country girl, for the first time in a situation so well calculated to excite curiosity, and to distract attention, would lose all remembrance, for a time at least, of distant and familiar objects, and give herself up entirely to the fascination of those scenes which were then presented to her view.  Your kind, interesting, and most welcome epistle showed me, however, that I had been both mistaken and uncharitable in these suppositions.  I was greatly amused at the tone of nonchalance which you assumed, while treating of London and its wonders.  Did you not feel awed while gazing at St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey?  Had you no feeling of intense and ardent interest, when in St. James’s you saw the palace where so many of England’s kings have held their courts, and beheld the representations of their persons on the walls?  You should not be too much afraid of appearing country-bred; the magnificence of London has drawn exclamations of astonishment from travelled men, experienced in the world, its wonders and beauties.  Have you yet seen anything of the great personages whom the sitting of Parliament now detains in London—­the Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel, Earl Grey, Mr. Stanley, Mr. O’Connell?  If I were you, I would not be too anxious to spend my time in reading whilst in town.  Make use of your own eyes for the purposes of observation now, and, for a time at least, lay aside the spectacles with which authors would furnish us.”

In a postscript she adds:—­