



Produced by An Anonymous Volunteer, and David Widger








THE PROFESSOR

by (AKA Charlotte Bronte) Currer Bell





CONTENTS



PREFACE.



T H E   P R O F E S S O R

CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII

CHAPTER XXIII

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER XXV.








PREFACE.

This little book was written before either "Jane Eyre" or "Shirley,"
and yet no indulgence can be solicited for it on the plea of a first
attempt. A first attempt it certainly was not, as the pen which wrote it
had been previously worn a good deal in a practice of some years. I had
not indeed published anything before I commenced "The Professor," but
in many a crude effort, destroyed almost as soon as composed, I had
got over any such taste as I might once have had for ornamented and
redundant composition, and come to prefer what was plain and homely.
At the same time I had adopted a set of principles on the subject of
incident, &c., such as would be generally approved in theory, but the
result of which, when carried out into practice, often procures for an
author more surprise than pleasure.

I said to myself that my hero should work his way through life as I had
seen real living men work theirs--that he should never get a shilling
he had not earned--that no sudden turns should lift him in a moment to
wealth and high station; that whatever small competency he might gain,
should be won by the sweat of his brow; that, before he could find so
much as an arbour to sit down in, he should master at least half the
ascent of "the Hill of Difficulty;" that he should not even marry a
beautiful girl or a lady of rank. As Adam's son he should share Adam's
doom, and drain throughout life a mixed and moderate cup of enjoyment.

In the sequel, however, I find that publishers in general scarcely
approved of this system, but would have liked something more imaginative
and poetical--something more consonant with a highly wrought fancy, with
a taste for pathos, with sentiments more tender, elevated, unworldly.
Indeed, until an author has tried to dispose of a manuscript of this
kind, he can never know what stores of romance and sensibility lie
hidden in breasts he would not have suspected of casketing such
treasures. Men in business are usually thought to prefer the real; on
trial the idea will be often found fallacious: a passionate preference
for the wild, wonderful, and thrilling--the strange, startling, and
harrowing--agitates divers souls that show a calm and sober surface.

Such being the case, the reader will comprehend that to have reached
him in the form of a printed book, this brief narrative must have gone
through some struggles--which indeed it has. And after all, its
worst struggle and strongest ordeal is yet to come but it takes
comfort--subdues fear--leans on the staff of a moderate expectation--and
mutters under its breath, while lifting its eye to that of the public,

"He that is low need fear no fall."

CURRER BELL.

The foregoing preface was written by my wife with a view to the
publication of "The Professor," shortly after the appearance of
"Shirley." Being dissuaded from her intention, the authoress made some
use of the materials in a subsequent work--"Villette." As, however,
these two stories are in most respects unlike, it has been represented
to me that I ought not to withhold "The Professor" from the public. I
have therefore consented to its publication.

A. B. NICHOLLS

Haworth Parsonage,

September 22nd, 1856.






T H E    P R O F E S S O R




CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY.

THE other day, in looking over my papers, I found in my desk the
following copy of a letter, sent by me a year since to an old school
acquaintance:--

"DEAR CHARLES,

"I think when you and I were at Eton together, we were neither of
us what could be called popular characters: you were a sarcastic,
observant, shrewd, cold-blooded creature; my own portrait I will
not attempt to draw, but I cannot recollect that it was a strikingly
attractive one--can you? What animal magnetism drew thee and me together
I know not; certainly I never experienced anything of the Pylades and
Orestes