the theatre and seen Macready in Macbeth. I have seen the
pictures in the National Gallery. I have seen a beautiful exhibition
of Turner's paintings, and yesterday I saw Mr. Thackeray. He dined
here with some other gentlemen. He is a very tall man--above six
feet high, with a peculiar face--not handsome, very ugly indeed,
generally somewhat stern and satirical in expression, but capable
also of a kind look. He was not told who I was, he was not
introduced to me, but I soon saw him looking at me through his
spectacles; and when we all rose to go down to dinner he just stepped
quietly up and said, "Shake hands"; so I shook hands. He spoke very
few words to me, but when he went away he shook hands again in a very
kind way. It is better, I should think, to have him for a friend
than an enemy, for he is a most formidable-looking personage. I
listened to him as he conversed with the other gentlemen. All he
says is most simple, but often cynical, harsh, and contradictory. I
get on quietly. Most people know me I think, but they are far too
well bred to show that they know me, so that there is none of that
bustle or that sense of publicity I dislike.

'I hope you continue pretty well; be sure to take care of yourself.
The weather here is exceedingly changeful, and often damp and misty,
so that it is necessary to guard against taking cold. I do not mean
to stay in London above a week longer, but I shall write again two or
three days before I return. You need not give yourself the trouble
of answering this letter unless you have something particular to say.
Remember me to Tabby and Martha.--I remain, dear papa, your
affectionate daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. P. BRONTE

'76 GLOUCESTER TERRACE,
'HYDE PARK, LONDON, _May_ 30_th_, 1851.

'DEAR PAPA,--I have now heard one of Mr. Thackeray's lectures and
seen the great Exhibition. On Thursday afternoon I went to hear the
lecture. It was delivered in a large and splendid kind of
saloon--that in which the great balls of Almacks are given. The
walls were all painted and gilded, the benches were sofas stuffed and
cushioned and covered with blue damask. The audience was co