My dear Emma

Marianne & Susan will have told you what joy and happiness the news gave all here. We have had innumerable cogitations and geese after the cogitations; and the one conclusion, I exult in, is that there never was anybody so lucky as I have been, or so good as you.— Indeed I can assure you, many times, since leaving Maer, I have thought how little I expressed, how much I owe to you; and as often as I think this, I vow to try to make myself good enough somewhat to deserve you.—

I hope you have taken deep thought about the sundry knotty points you will have to decide on.— We must have a great deal of talk together, when I come back on Saturday.— do have a fire in the Library—it is a such a good place to have some quiet talks together.— The question of houses,—suburbs versus central London,—rages violently around each fire place in this house.— Suburbs have rather the advantage at present; & this, of course, rather inclines one to seek out the argument on the other side.— The Governor gives much good advice to live, wherever it may be, the first year prudently & quietly. My chief fear is, that you will find after living all your life with such large & agreeable parties, as Maer only can boast of, our quiet evenings dull.— You must bear in mind, as some young lady said, ‘all men are brutes’, and that I take the line of being a solitary brute, so you must listen with much suspicion to all arguments in favour of retired places. I am so selfish, that I feel to have you to myself, is having you so much more completely, that I am not to be trusted. Like a child that has something it loves beyond measure, I long to dwell on the words my own dear Emma.— as I am writing, just as things come uppermost in my mind, I beg of you not to read my letters to anyone, for then I can fancy, I am sitting by the side of my own dear future wife, & to her own self, I do not care what nonsense I talk:—so let me have my way, & scribble, without caring whether it be sense or nonsense.—

I had a letter from Caroline yesterday, full of kindest & tenderest expressions towards us both.— I do not mean to tell anyone in Shropshire, till I leave; but I have written to Erasmus, & I am well sure he will most heartily congratulate. My father echos & reechos Uncle Jos’ words ‘you have drawn a prize!’ Certainly no man could by possibility receive a more cordial welcome, that I did from everyone at Maer on Monday morning.— My life has been very happy & very fortunate and many of my pleasantest remembrances are mingled up with scenes at Maer, & now it is crowned.— My own dear Emma, I kiss the hands with all humbleness and gratitude, which have so filled up for me the cup of happiness— it is my most earnest wish, I may make myself worthy of you.

Good bye | Most affectionately Yours | Chas Darwin

I would tear this letter up & write it again, for it is a very silly one, but I cant write a better one.—

Since writing the former part, the Post has brought in your own dear note to Katty. You tell me to be a good boy, & so I must be,—but let me earnestly beg of you not to make up your mind, in a hurry.— You say truly Elizabeth never thinks of herself, but there is another person, who never thinks of herself, but now she has to think of two people,—& I am, thank Heaven for it, that other person.— You must be absolute arbitress, but do dear Emma, remember life is short, & two months is the sixth part of the year, & that year, the first, from which for my part, things shall hereafter date. Whatever you do will be right,—but it will be too good to be unselfish for me, until I am part of you, dearest Emma.

good bye