the life of charlotte bronte-1-第22章

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　conversations；　or　pauses　of　silence　as　agreeable；　because　each　felt　that　as　soon　as　a　thought　or　remark　occurred　which　they　wished　to　express；　there　was　an　intelligent　companion　ready　to　sympathise；　and　yet　they　were　not　compelled　to　〃make　talk。〃

Miss　W…　was　always　anxious　to　afford　Miss　Bronte　every　opportunity　of　recreation　in　her　power；　but　the　difficulty　often　was　to　persuade　her　to　avail　herself　of　the　invitations　which　came；　urging　her　to　spend　Saturday　and　Sunday　with　〃E。〃　and　〃Mary；〃　in　their　respective　homes；　that　lay　within　the　distance　of　a　walk。　She　was　too　apt　to　consider；　that　allowing　herself　a　holiday　was　a　dereliction　of　duty；　and　to　refuse　herself　the　necessary　change；　from　something　of　an　over…ascetic　spirit；　betokening　a　loss　of　healthy　balance　in　either　body　or　mind。　　Indeed；　it　is　clear　that　such　was　the　case；　from　a　passage；　referring　to　this　time；　in　the　letter　of　〃Mary〃　from　which　I　have　before　given　extracts。

〃Three　years　after〃　（the　period　when　they　were　at　school　together）〃I　heard　that　she　had　gone　as　teacher　to　Miss　W…'s。　　I　went　to　see　her；　and　asked　how　she　could　give　so　much　for　so　little　money；　when　she　could　live　without　it。　　She　owned　that；　after　clothing　herself　and　Anne；　there　was　nothing　left；　though　she　had　hoped　to　be　able　to　save　something。　　She　confessed　it　was　not　brilliant；　but　what　could　she　do？　　I　had　nothing　to　answer。　She　seemed　to　have　no　interest　or　pleasure　beyond　the　feeling　of　duty；　and；　when　she　could　get；　used　to　sit　alone；　and　'make　out。'　She　told　me　afterwards；　that　one　evening　she　had　sat　in　the　dressing…room　until　it　was　quite　dark；　and　then　observing　it　all　at　once；　had　taken　sudden　fright。〃　　No　doubt　she　remembered　this　well　when　she　described　a　similar　terror　getting　hold　upon　Jane　Eyre。　　She　says　in　the　story；　〃I　sat　looking　at　the　white　bed　and　overshadowed　wallsoccasionally　turning　a　fascinated　eye　towards　the　gleaming　mirrorI　began　to　recall　what　I　had　heard　of　dead　men　troubled　in　their　graves　。　。　。　I　endeavoured　to　be　firm；　shaking　my　hair　from　my　eyes；　I　lifted　my　head　and　tried　to　look　boldly　through　the　dark　room；　at　this　moment；　a　ray　from　the　moon　penetrated　some　aperture　in　the　blind。　　No！　moon　light　was　still；　and　this　stirred　。　。　。　prepared　as　my　mind　was　for　horror；　shaken　as　my　nerves　were　by　agitation；　I　thought　the　swift…darting　beam　was　a　herald　of　some　coming　vision　from　another　world。　　My　heart　beat　thick；　my　head　grew　hot；　a　sound　filled　my　ears　which　I　deemed　the　rustling　of　wings；　something　seemed　near　me。〃　｛4｝

〃From　that　time；〃　Mary　adds；　〃her　imaginations　became　gloomy　or　frightful；　she　could　not　help　it；　nor　help　thinking。　　She　could　not　forget　the　gloom；　could　not　sleep　at　night；　nor　attend　in　the　day。

〃She　told　me　that　one　night；　sitting　alone；　about　this　time；　she　heard　a　voice　repeat　these　lines：


〃'Come　thou　high　and　holy　feeling；　Shine　o'er　mountain；　flit　o'er　wave；　Gleam　like　light　o'er　dome　and　shielding。'


〃There　were　eight　or　ten　more　lines　which　I　forget。　　She　insisted　that　she　had　not　made　them；　that　she　had　heard　a　voice　repeat　them。　　It　is　possible　that　she　had　read　them；　and　unconsciously　recalled　them。　　They　are　not　in　the　volume　of　poems　which　the　sisters　published。　　She　repeated　a　verse　of　Isaiah；　which　she　said　had　inspired　them；　and　which　I　have　forgotten。　　Whether　the　lines　were　recollected　or　invented；　the　tale　proves　such　habits　of　sedentary；　monotonous　solitude　of　thought　as　would　have　shaken　a　feebler　mind。〃

Of　course；　the　state　of　health　thus　described　came　on　gradually；　and　is　not　to　be　taken　as　a　picture　of　her　condition　in　1836。　　Yet　even　then　there　is　a　despondency　in　some　of　her　expressions；　that　too　sadly　reminds　one　of　some　of　Cowper's　letters。　　And　it　is　remarkable　how　deeply　his　poems　impressed　her。　　His　words；　his　verses；　came　more　frequently　to　her　memory；　I　imagine；　than　those　of　any　other　poet。

〃Mary〃　says：　　〃Cowper's　poem；　'The　Castaway；'　was　known　to　them　all；　and　they　all　at　times　appreciated；　or　almost　appropriated　it。　Charlotte　told　me　once　that　Branwell　had　done　so；　and　though　his　depression　was　the　result　of　his　faults；　it　was　in　no　other　respect　different　from　hers。　　Both　were　not　mental　but　physical　illnesses。　　She　was　well　aware　of　this；　and　would　ask　how　that　mended　matters；　as　the　feeling　was　there　all　the　same；　and　was　not　removed　by　knowing　the　cause。　　She　had　a　larger　religious　toleration　than　a　person　would　have　who　had　never　questioned；　and　the　manner　of　recommending　religion　was　always　that　of　offering　comfort；　not　fiercely　enforcing　a　duty。　　One　time　I　mentioned　that　some　one　had　asked　me　what　religion　I　was　of　（with　the　view　of　getting　me　for　a　partizan）；　and　that　I　had　said　that　that　was　between　God　and　me；Emily　（who　was　lying　on　the　hearth…rug）　exclaimed；　'That's　right。'　　This　was　all　I　ever　heard　Emily　say　on　religious　subjects。　　Charlotte　was　free　from　religious　depression　when　in　tolerable　health；　when　that　failed；　her　depression　returned。　　You　have　probably　seen　such　instances。　　They　don't　get　over　their　difficulties；　they　forget　them；　when　their　stomach　（or　whatever　organ　it　is　that　inflicts　such　misery　on　sedentary　people）　will　let　them。　　I　have　heard　her　condemn　Socinianism；　Calvinism；　and　many　other　'isms'　inconsistent　with　Church　of　Englandism。　　I　used　to　wonder　at　her　acquaintance　with　such　subjects。〃


〃May　10th；　1836。

〃I　was　struck　with　the　note　you　sent　me　with　the　umbrella；　it　showed　a　degree　of　interest　in　my　concerns　which　I　have　no　right　to　expect　from　any　earthly　creature。　　I　won't　play　the　hypocrite；　I　won't　answer　your　kind；　gentle；　friendly　questions　in　the　way　you　wish　me　to。　　Don't　deceive　yourself　by　imagining　I　have　a　bit　of　real　goodness　about　me。　　My　darling；　if　I　were　like　you；　I　should　have　my　face　Zion…ward；　though　prejudice　and　error　might　occasionally　fling　a　mist　over　the　glorious　vision　before　mebut　I　AM　NOT　LIKE　YOU。　　If　you　knew　my　thoughts；　the　dreams　that　absorb　me；　and　the　fiery　imagination　that　at　times　eats　me　up；　and　makes　me　feel　society；　as　it　is；　wretchedly　insipid；　you　would　pity　and　I　dare　say　despise　me。　　But　I　know　the　treasures　of　the　BIBLE；　I　love　and　adore　them。　　I　can　SEE　the　Well　of　Life　in　all　its　clearness　and　brightness；　but　when　I　stoop　down　to　drink　of　the　pure　waters　they　fly　from　my　lips　as　if　I　were　Tantalus。

〃You　are　far　too　kind　and　frequent　in　your　invitations。　　You　puzzle　me。　　I　hardly　know　how　to　refuse；　and　it　is　still　more　embarrassing　to　accept。　　At　any　rate；　I　cannot　come　this　week；　for　we　are　in　the　very　thickest　melee　of　the　Repetitions。　　I　was　hearing　the　terrible　fifth　section　when　your　note　arrived。　　But　Miss　Wooler　says　I　must　go　to　Mary　next　Friday；　as　she　promised　for　me　on　Whit…Sunday；　and　on　Sunday　morning　I　will　join　you　at　church；　if　it　be　convenient；　and　stay　till　Monday。　　There's　a　free　and　easy　proposal！　　Miss　W…　has　driven　me　to　it。　　She　says　her　character　is　implicated。〃

Good；　kind　Miss　W…！　however　monotonous　and　trying　were　the　duties　Charlotte　had　to　perform　under　her　roof；　there　was　always　a　genial　and　thoughtful　friend　watching　over　her；　and　urging　her　to　partake　of　any　little　piece　of　innocent　recreation　that　might　come　in　her　way。　　And　in　those　Midsummer　holidays　of　1836；　her　friend　E。　came　to　stay　with　her　at　Haworth；　so　there　was　one　happy　time　secured。

Here　follows　a　series　of　letters；　not　dated；　but　belonging　to　the　latter　portion　of　this　year；　and　again　we　think　of　the　gentle　and　melancholy　Cowper。

〃My　dear　dear　E。；

〃I　am　at　this　moment　trembling　all　over　with　excitement；　after　reading　your　note；　it　is　what　I　never　received　beforeit　is　the　unrestrained　pouring　out　of　a　warm；　gentle；　generous　heart　。　。　。　I　thank　you　with　energy　for　this　kindness。　　I　will　no　longer　shrink　from　answering　your　questions。　　I　DO　wish　to　be　better　than　I　am。　I　pray　fervently　sometimes　to　be　made　so。　　I　have　stings　of　conscience；　visitings　of　remorse；　glimpses　of　holy；　of　inexpressible　things；　which　formerly　I　used　to　be　a　stranger　to；　it　may　all　die　away；　and　I　may　be　in　utter　midnight；　but　I　implore　a　merciful　Redeemer；　that；　if　this　be　the　dawn　of　the　gospel；　it　may　still　brighten　to　perfect　day。　　Do　not　mistake　medo　not　think　I　am　good；　I　only　wish　to　be　so。　　I　only　hate　my　former　flippancy　and　forwardness。　　Oh！　I　am　no　better　than　ever　I　was。　　I　am　in　that　state　of　horrid；　gloomy　uncertainty　that；　at　this　moment；　I　would　submit　to　be　old；　grey…haired；　to　have　passed　all　my　youthful　days　of　enjoyment；　and　to　be　settling　on　the　verge　of　the　grave；　if　I　could　only　thereby　ensure　the　prospect　of　reconciliation　to　God；　and　redemption　through　his　Son's　merits。　　I　never　was　exactly　careless　of　these　matters；　but　I　have　always　taken　a　clouded　and　repulsive　view　of　them；　and　now；　if　possible；　the　clouds　are　gathering　darker；　and　a　more　oppressive　despondency　weighs　on　my　spirits。　　You　have　cheered　me；　my　darling；　for　one　moment；　for　an　atom　of　time；　I　thought　I　might　call　you　my　own　sister　in　the　spirit；　but　the　excitement　is　past；　and　I　am　now　as　wretched　and　hopeless　as　ever。　　This　very　night　I　will　pray　as　you　wish　me。　　May　the　Almighty　hear　me　compassionately！　and　I　humbly　hope　he　will；　for　you　will　strengthen　my　polluted　petitions　with　your　own　pure　requests。　　All　is　bustle　and　confusion　round　me；　the　ladies　pressing　with　their　sums　and　their　lessons　。　。　。　If　you　love　me；　DO；　DO；　DO　come　on　Friday：　　I　shall　watch　and　wait　for　you；　and　if　you　disappoint　me　I　shall　weep。　　I　wish　you　could　know　the　thrill　of　delight　which　I　experienced；　when；　as　I　stood　at　the　dining…room　window；　I　saw　…；　as　he　whirled　past；　toss　your　little　packet　over　the　wall。〃

Huddersfield　market…day　was　still　the　great　period　for　events　at　Roe　Head。　　Then　girls；　running　round　the　corner　of　the　house　and　peeping　between　tree…stems；　and　up　a　shadowy　lane；　could　catch　a　glimpse　of　a　father　or　brother　driving　to　market　in　his　gig；　might；　perhaps；　exchange　a　wave　of　the　hand；　or　see；　as　Charlotte　Bronte　did　from　the　window；　a　white　packet　tossed　over　the　avail　by　come　swift　strong　motion　of　an　arm；　the　rest　of　the　traveller's　body　unseen。

〃Weary　with　a　day's　hard　work　。　。　。　I　am　sitting　down　to　write　a　few　lines　to　my　dear　E。　　Excuse　me　if　I　say　nothing　but　nonsense；　for　my　mind　is　exhausted　and　dispirited。　　It　is　a　stormy　evening；　and　the　wind　is　uttering　a　continual　moaning　sound；　that　makes　me　feel　very　melancholy。　　At　such　timesin　such　moods　as　theseit　is　my　nature　to　seek　repose　in　some　calm　tranquil　idea；　and　I　have　now　summoned　up　your　image　to　give　me　rest。　　There　you　sit；　upright　and　still　in　your　black　dress；　and　white　scarf；　and　pale　marble…like　facejust　like　reality。　　I　wish　you　would　speak　to　me。　　If　we　should　be　separatedif　it　should　be　our　lot　to　live　at　a　great　distance；　and　never　to　see　each　other　againin　old　age；　how　I　should　conjure　up　the　memory　of　my　youthful　days；　and　what　a　melancholy　pleasure　I　should　feel　in　dwelling　on　the　recollection　of　my　early　friend！　。　。　。　I　have　some　qualities　that　make　me　very　miserable；　some　feelings　that　you　can　have　no　participation　in　that　few；　very　few；　people　in　the　world　can　at　all　understand。　　I　don't　pride　myself　on　these　peculiarities。　　I　strive　to　conceal　and　suppress　them　as　much　as　I　can；　but　they　burst　out　sometimes；　and　then　those　who　see　the　ex