"_October_ 2_nd_, 1850.
"MY DEAR SIR,--I have to thank you for the care and kindness with which you have a.s.sisted me throughout in correcting these _Remains_.
"Whether, when they are published, they will appear to others as they do to me, I cannot tell. I hope not. And indeed I suppose what to me is bitter pain will only be soft pathos to the general public.
"Miss Martineau has several times lately asked me to go and see her; and though this is a dreary season for travelling northward, I think if papa continues pretty well I shall go in a week or two. I feel to my deep sorrow, to my humiliation, that it is not in my power to bear the canker of constant solitude. I had calculated that when shut out from every enjoyment, from every stimulus but what could be derived from intellectual exertion, my mind would rouse itself perforce. It is not so. Even intellect, even imagination, will not dispense with the ray of domestic cheerfulness, with the gentle spur of family discussion. Late in the evenings, and all through the nights, I fall into a condition of mind which turns entirely to the past--to memory; and memory is both sad and relentless. This will never do, and will produce no good. I tell you this that you may check false antic.i.p.ations. You cannot help me, and must not trouble yourself in any shape to sympathise with me. It is my cup, and I must drink it, as others drink theirs.--Yours sincerely,
"C. BRONTE."
Among Miss Bronte"s papers I find the following letter to Miss Martineau, written with a not unnatural resentment after the publication of a severe critique of _Shirley_.
TO MISS HARRIET MARTINEAU.
"MY DEAR MISS MARTINEAU,--I think I best show my sense of the tone and feeling of your last, by immediate compliance with the wish you express that I should send your letter. I inclose it, and have marked with red ink the pa.s.sage which struck me dumb. All the rest is fair, right, worthy of you, but I protest against this pa.s.sage; and were I brought up before the bar of all the critics in England, to such a charge I should respond, "Not guilty."
"I know what _love_ is as I understand it; and if man or woman should be ashamed of feeling such love, then is there nothing right, n.o.ble, faithful, truthful, unselfish in this earth, as I comprehend rect.i.tude, n.o.bleness, fidelity, truth, and disinterestedness.--Yours sincerely,
"C. B.
"To differ from you gives me keen pain."
TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL
"_November_ 6_th_, 1850.
"MY DEAR SIR,--Mrs. Arnold seemed an amiable, and must once have been a very pretty, woman; her daughter I liked much. There was present also a son of Chevalier Bunsen, with his wife, or rather bride. I had not then read Dr. Arnold"s Life--otherwise, the visit would have interested me even more than it actually did.
"Mr. Williams told me (if I mistake not) that you had recently visited the Lake Country. I trust you enjoyed your excursion, and that our English Lakes did not suffer too much by comparison in your memory with the Scottish Lochs.--I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely,
"C. BRONTE."
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
"AMBLESIDE, _December_ 21_st_, 1850.
"DEAR ELLEN,--I have managed to get off going to Sir J. K.
Shuttleworth"s by a promise to come some other time. I thought I really should like to spend two or three days with you before going home; therefore, if it is not inconvenient for you, I will come on Monday and stay till Thursday. I shall be at Bradford (D.V.) at ten minutes past two, Monday afternoon, and can take a cab at the station forward to Birstall. I have truly enjoyed my visit. I have seen a good many people, and all have been so marvellously kind; not the least so the family of Dr. Arnold. Miss Martineau I relish inexpressibly. Sir James has been almost every day to take me a drive. I begin to admit in my own mind that he is sincerely benignant to me. I grieve to say he looks to me as if wasting away.
Lady Shuttleworth is ill. She cannot go out, and I have not seen her. Till we meet, good-bye.
"C. BRONTE."
It was during this visit to Ambleside that Charlotte Bronte and Matthew Arnold met.
"At seven," writes Mr. Arnold from Fox How (December 21, 1850), "came Miss Martineau and Miss Bronte (Jane Eyre); talked to Miss Martineau (who blasphemes frightfully) about the prospects of the Church of England, and, wretched man that I am, promised to go and see her cow-keeping miracles {457a} to-morrow--I, who hardly know a cow from a sheep. I talked to Miss Bronte (past thirty and plain, with expressive grey eyes, though) of her curates, of French novels, and her education in a school at Brussels, and sent the lions roaring to their dens at half-past nine, and came to talk to you." {457b}
By the light of this "impression," it is not a little interesting to see what Miss Bronte, "past thirty and plain," thought of Mr. Matthew Arnold!
TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL,
"_January_ 15_th_, 1851.
"MY DEAR SIR,--I fancy the imperfect way in which my last note was expressed must have led you into an error, and that you must have applied to Mrs. Arnold the remarks I intended for Miss Martineau. I remember whilst writing about "my hostess" I was sensible to some obscurity in the term; permit me now to explain that it referred to Miss Martineau.
"Mrs. Arnold is, indeed, as I judge from my own observations no less than from the unanimous testimony of all who really know her, a good and amiable woman, but the intellectual is not her forte, and she has no pretensions to power or completeness of character. The same remark, I think, applies to her daughters. You admire in them the kindliest feeling towards each other and their fellow-creatures, and they offer in their home circle a beautiful example of family unity, and of that refinement which is sure to spring thence; but when the conversation turns on literature or any subject that offers a test for the intellect, you usually felt that their opinions were rather imitative than original, rather sentimental than sound. Those who have only seen Mrs. Arnold once will necessarily, I think, judge of her unfavourably; her manner on introduction disappointed me sensibly, as lacking that genuineness and simplicity one seemed to have a right to expect in the chosen life-companion of Dr. Arnold.
On my remarking as much to Mrs. Gaskell and Sir J. K. Shuttleworth, I was told for my consolation it was a "conventional manner," but that it vanished on closer acquaintance; fortunately this last a.s.surance proved true. It is observable that Matthew Arnold, the eldest son, and the author of the volume of poems to which you allude, inherits his mother"s defect. Striking and prepossessing in appearance, his manner displeases from its seeming foppery. I own it caused me at first to regard him with regretful surprise; the shade of Dr. Arnold seemed to me to frown on his young representative. I was told, however, that "Mr. Arnold improved upon acquaintance." So it was: ere long a real modesty appeared under his a.s.sumed conceit, and some genuine intellectual aspirations, as well as high educational acquirements, displaced superficial affectations. I was given to understand that his theological opinions were very vague and unsettled, and indeed he betrayed as much in the course of conversation. Most unfortunate for him, doubtless, has been the untimely loss of his father.
"My visit to Westmoreland has certainly done me good. Physically, I was not ill before I went there, but my mind had undergone some painful laceration. In the course of looking over my sister"s papers, mementos, and memoranda, that would have been nothing to others, conveyed for me so keen a sting. Near at hand there was no means of lightening or effacing the sad impression by refreshing social intercourse; from my father, of course, my sole care was to conceal it--age demanding the same forbearance as infancy in the communication of grief. Continuous solitude grew more than I could bear, and, to speak truth, I was glad of a change. You will say that we ought to have power in ourselves either to bear circ.u.mstances or to bend them. True, we should do our best to this end, but sometimes our best is unavailing. However, I am better now, and most thankful for the respite.
"The interest you so kindly express in my sister"s works touches me home. Thank you for it, especially as I do not believe you would speak otherwise than sincerely. The only notices that I have seen of the new edition of _Wuthering Heights_ were those in the _Examiner_, the _Leader_, and the _Athenaeum_. That in the _Athenaeum_ somehow gave me pleasure: it is quiet but respectful--so I thought, at least.
"You asked whether Miss Martineau made me a convert to mesmerism?
Scarcely; yet I heard miracles of its efficacy and could hardly discredit the whole of what was told me. I even underwent a personal experiment; and though the result was not absolutely clear, it was inferred that in time I should prove an excellent subject.
"The question of mesmerism will be discussed with little reserve, I believe, in a forthcoming work of Miss Martineau"s, and I have some painful antic.i.p.ations of the manner in which other subjects, offering less legitimate ground for speculation, will be handled.
"You mention the _Leader_; what do you think of it? I have been asked to contribute; but though I respect the spirit of fairness and courtesy in which it is on the whole conducted, its principles on some points are such that I have hitherto shrunk from the thought of seeing my name in its columns.
"Thanking you for your good wishes,--I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely,
"C. BRONTE."
TO MISS LAEt.i.tIA WHEELWRIGHT
"HAWORTH, _January_ 12_th_, 1851.
"DEAR LAEt.i.tIA,--A spare moment must and shall be made for you, no matter how many letters I have to write (and just now there is an influx). In reply to your kind inquiries, I have to say that my stay in London and excursion to Scotland did me good--much good at the time; but my health was again somewhat sharply tried at the close of autumn, and I lost in some days of indisposition the additional flesh and strength I had previously gained. This resulted from the painful task of looking over letters and papers belonging to my sisters.
Many little mementos and memoranda conspired to make an impression inexpressibly sad, which solitude deepened and fostered till I grew ill. A brief trip to Westmoreland has, however, I am thankful to say, revived me again, and the circ.u.mstance of papa being just now in good health and spirits gives me many causes for grat.i.tude. When we have but one precious thing left we think much of it.
"I have been staying a short time with Miss Martineau. As you may imagine, the visit proved one of no common interest. She is certainly a woman of wonderful endowments, both intellectual and physical, and though I share few of her opinions, and regard her as fallible on certain points of judgment, I must still accord her my sincerest esteem. The manner in which she combines the highest mental culture with the nicest discharge of feminine duties filled me with admiration, while her affectionate kindness earned my grat.i.tude.
"Your description of the magician Paxton"s crystal palace is quite graphic. Whether I shall see it or not I don"t know. London will be so dreadfully crowded and busy this season, I feel a dread of going there.
"Compelled to break off, I have only time to offer my kindest remembrances to your whole circle, and my love to yourself.--Yours ever,
"C. BRONTE."
TO REV. P. BRONTE
"112 GLOUCESTER TERRACE, HYDE PARK, "LONDON, _June_ 17_th_, 1851.
"DEAR PAPA,--I write a line in haste to tell you that I find they will not let me leave London till next Tuesday; and as I have promised to spend a day or two with Mrs. Gaskell on my way home, it will probably be Friday or Sat.u.r.day in next week before I return to Haworth. Martha will thus have a few days more time, and must not hurry or overwork herself. Yesterday I saw Cardinal Wiseman and heard him speak. It was at a meeting for the Roman Catholic Society of St. Vincent de Paul; the Cardinal presided. He is a big portly man something of the shape of Mr. Morgan; he has not merely a double but a treble and quadruple chin; he has a very large mouth with oily lips, and looks as if he would relish a good dinner with a bottle of wine after it. He came swimming into the room smiling, simpering, and bowing like a fat old lady, and sat down very demure in his chair and looked the picture of a sleek hypocrite. He was dressed in black like a bishop or dean in plain clothes, but wore scarlet gloves and a brilliant scarlet waistcoat. A bevy of inferior priests surrounded him, many of them very dark-looking and sinister men. The Cardinal spoke in a smooth whining manner, just like a canting Methodist preacher. The audience seemed to look up to him as to a G.o.d. A spirit of the hottest zeal pervaded the whole meeting. I was told afterwards that except myself and the person who accompanied me there was not a single Protestant present. All the speeches turned on the necessity of straining every nerve to make converts to popery. It is in such a scene that one feels what the Catholics are doing. Most persevering and enthusiastic are they in their work! Let Protestants look to it. It cheered me much to hear that you continue pretty well. Take every care of yourself. Remember me kindly to Tabby and Martha, also to Mr. Nicholls, and--Believe me, dear papa, your affectionate daughter,
"C. BRONTE."
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
"_June_ 19_th_, 1851.