Charlotte Bronte and Her Circle Part 34

'C. BRONTE.'

Mr. Nussey was a very good man, with a capacity for making himself generally esteemed, becoming in turn vicar of Earnley, near Chichester, and afterwards of Hathersage, in Derbyshire. It was honourable to his judgment that he had aspired to marry Charlotte Bronte, who, as we know, had neither money nor much personal attraction, and at the time no possible prospect of literary fame. Her common-sense letter in reply to his proposal had the desired effect. He speedily took the proffered advice, and six months later we find her sending him a letter of congratulation upon his engagement to be married.

TO REV. HENRY NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _October_ 28_th_, 1839.

'DEAR SIR,--I have delayed answering your last communication in the hopes of receiving a letter from Ellen, that I might be able to transmit to you the latest news from Brookroyd; however, as she does not write, I think I ought to put off my reply no longer lest you should begin to think me negligent. As you rightly conjecture, I had heard a little hint of what you allude to before, and the account gave me pleasure, coupled as it was with the a.s.surance that the object of your regard is a worthy and estimable woman. The step no doubt will by many of your friends be considered scarcely as a prudent one, _since_ fortune is not amongst the number of the young lady's advantages. For my own part, I must confess that I esteem you the more for not hunting after wealth if there be strength of mind, firmness of principle, and sweetness of temper to compensate for the absence of that usually all-powerful attraction. The wife who brings riches to her husband sometimes also brings an idea of her own importance and a tenacity about what she conceives to be her rights, little calculated to produce happiness in the married state. Most probably she will wish to control when nature and affection bind her to submit--in this case there cannot, I should think, be much comfort.

'On the other hand, it must be considered that when two persons marry without money, there ought to be moral courage and physical exertion to atone for the deficiency--there should be spirit to scorn dependence, patience to endure privation, and energy to labour for a livelihood. If there be these qualities, I think, with the blessing of G.o.d, those who join heart and hand have a right to expect success and a moderate share of happiness, even though they may have departed a step or two from the stern maxims of worldly prudence. The bread earned by honourable toil is sweeter than the bread of idleness; and mutual love and domestic calm are treasures far preferable to the possessions rust can corrupt and moths consume away.

'I enjoyed my late excursion with Ellen with the greater zest because such pleasures have not often chanced to fall in my way. I will not tell you what I thought of the sea, because I should fall into my besetting sin of enthusiasm. I may, however, say that its glories, changes, its ebbs and flow, the sound of its restless waves, formed a subject for contemplation that never wearied either the eye, the ear, or the mind. Our visit at Easton was extremely pleasant; I shall always feel grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Hudson for their kindness. We saw Agnes Burton, during our stay, and called on two of your former parishioners--Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Dalton. I was pleased to hear your name mentioned by them in terms of encomium and sincere regard.

Ellen will have detailed to you all the minutia of our excursion; a recapitulation from me would therefore be tedious. I am happy to say that her health appeared to be greatly improved by the change of air and regular exercise. I am still at home, as I have not yet heard of any situation which meets with the approbation of my friends. I begin, however, to grow exceedingly impatient of a prolonged period of inaction. I feel I ought to be doing something for myself, for my health is now so perfectly re-established by this long rest that it affords me no further pretext for indolence. With every wish for your future welfare, and with the hope that whenever your proposed union takes place it may contribute in the highest sense to your good and happiness,--Believe me, your sincere friend,

'C. BRONTE.

'_P.S._--Remember me to your sister Mercy, who, I understand, is for the present your companion and housekeeper.'

The correspondence did not end here. Indeed, Charlotte was so excellent a letter-writer, that it must have been hard indeed for any one who had had any experience of her in that capacity to readily forgo its continuance.

TO REV. HENRY NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _May_ 26_th_, 1840.

'DEAR SIR,--In looking over my papers this morning I found a letter from you of the date of last February with the mark upon it unanswered. Your sister Ellen often accuses me of want of punctuality in answering letters, and I think her accusation is here justified. However, I give you credit for as much considerateness as will induce you to excuse a greater fault than this, especially as I shall hasten directly to repair it.

'The fact is, when the letter came Ellen was staying with me, and I was so fully occupied in talking to her that I had no time to think of writing to others. This is no great compliment, but it is no insult either. You know Ellen's worth, you know how seldom I see her, you partly know my regard for her; and from these premises you may easily draw the inference that her company, when once obtained, is too valuable to be wasted for a moment. One woman can appreciate the value of another better than a man can do. Men very often only see the outside gloss which dazzles in prosperity, women have opportunities for closer observation, and they learn to value those qualities which are useful in adversity.

'There is much, too, in that mild even temper and that placid equanimity which keep the domestic hearth always bright and peaceful--this is better than the ardent nature that changes twenty times in a day. I have studied Ellen and I think she would make a good wife--that is, if she had a good husband. If she married a fool or a tyrant there is spirit enough in her composition to withstand the dictates of either insolence or weakness, though even then I doubt not her sense would teach her to make the best of a bad bargain.

'You will see my letters are all didactic. They contain no news, because I know of none which I think it would interest you to hear repeated. I am still at home, in very good health and spirits, and uneasy only because I cannot yet hear of a situation.

'I shall always be glad to have a letter from you, and I promise when you write again to be less dilatory in answering. I trust your prospects of happiness still continue fair; and from what you say of your future partner I doubt not she will be one who will help you to get cheerfully through the difficulties of this world and to obtain a permanent rest in the next; at least I hope such may be the case.

You do right to conduct the matter with due deliberation, for on the step you are about to take depends the happiness of your whole lifetime.

'You must not again ask me to write in a regular literary way to you on some particular topic. I cannot do it at all. Do you think I am a blue-stocking? I feel half inclined to laugh at you for the idea, but perhaps you would be angry. What was the topic to be?

Chemistry? or astronomy? or mechanics? or conchology? or entomology?

or what other ology? I know nothing at all about any of these. I am not scientific; I am not a linguist. You think me far more learned than I am. If I told you all my ignorance, I am afraid you would be shocked; however, as I wish still to retain a little corner in your good opinion, I will hold my tongue.--Believe me, yours respectfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. HENRY NUSSEY

'_January_ 11th, 1841.

'DEAR SIR,--It is time I should reply to your last, as I shall fail in fulfilling my promise of not being so dilatory as on a former occasion.

'I shall be glad to receive the poetry which you offer to send me.

You ask me to return the gift in kind. How do you know that I have it in my power to comply with that request? Once indeed I was very poetical, when I was sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen years old, but I am now twenty-four, approaching twenty-five, and the intermediate years are those which begin to rob life of some of its superfluous colouring. At this age it is time that the imagination should be pruned and trimmed, that the judgment should be cultivated, and a few, at least, of the countless illusions of early youth should be cleared away. I have not written poetry for a long while.

'You will excuse the dulness, morality, and monotony of this epistle, and--Believe me, with all good wishes for your welfare here and hereafter, your sincere friend,

'C. BRONTE.'

This letter closes the correspondence; but, as we have seen, Charlotte spent three pleasant weeks in Mr. Nussey's home with his sister Ellen when that gentleman became vicar of Hathersage, in Derbyshire. She thus congratulates her friend when Mr. Nussey is appointed to the latter living.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_July_ 29_th_, 1844.

'DEAR NELL,--I am very glad to hear of Henry's good fortune. It proves to me what an excellent thing perseverance is for getting on in the world. Calm self-confidence (not impudence, for that is vulgar and repulsive) is an admirable quality; but how are those not naturally gifted with it to attain it? We all here get on much as usual. Papa wishes he could hear of a curate, that Mr. Smith may be at liberty to go. Good-bye, dear Ellen. I wish to you and yours happiness, health, and prosperity.

'Write again before you go to Burlington. My best love to Mary.

'C. BRONTE.'

Meanwhile, as I have said, a second lover appeared on the field in this same year, 1839, and the quickness of his wooing is a remarkable testimony to the peculiar fascination which Miss Bronte must have exercised.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_August_ 4_th_, 1839.

'MY DEAREST ELLEN,--I have an odd circ.u.mstance to relate to you--prepare for a hearty laugh! The other day Mr. Hodgson, papa's former curate, now a vicar, came over to spend the day with us, bringing with him his own curate. The latter gentleman, by name Mr.

Price, is a young Irish clergyman, fresh from Dublin University. It was the first time we had any of us seen him, but, however, after the manner of his countrymen, he soon made himself at home. His character quickly appeared in his conversation: witty, lively, ardent, clever too, but deficient in the dignity and discretion of an Englishman. At home, you know, Ellen, I talk with ease, and am never shy, never weighed down and oppressed by that miserable _mauvaise honte_ which torments and constrains me elsewhere. So I conversed with this Irishman and laughed at his jests, and though I saw faults in his character, excused them because of the amus.e.m.e.nt his originality afforded. I cooled a little, indeed, and drew in towards the latter part of the evening, because he began to season his conversation with something of Hibernian flattery, which I did not quite relish. However, they went away, and no more was thought about them. A few days after I got a letter, the direction of which puzzled me, it being in a hand I was not accustomed to see.

Evidently, it was neither from you nor Mary Taylor, my only correspondents. Having opened and read it, it proved to be a declaration of attachment and proposal of matrimony, expressed in the ardent language of the sapient young Irishman! Well! thought I, I have heard of love at first sight, but this beats all. I leave you to guess what my answer would be, convinced that you will not do me the injustice of guessing wrong. When we meet I'll show you the letter. I hope you are laughing heartily. This is not like one of my adventures, is it? It more nearly resembles Martha Taylor's. I am certainly doomed to be an old maid. Never mind, I made up my mind to that fate ever since I was twelve years old. Write soon.

'C. BRONTE.'

It was not many months after this that we hear the last of poor Mr.

Price.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 24_th_, 1840.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--Mr. Price is dead. He had fallen into a state of delicate health for some time, and the rupture of a blood-vessel carried him off. He was a strong, athletic-looking man when I saw him, and that is scarcely six months ago. Though I knew so little of him, and of course could not be deeply or permanently interested in what concerned him, I confess, when I suddenly heard he was dead, I felt both shocked and saddened: it was no shame to feel so, was it?

I scold you, Ellen, for writing illegibly and badly, but I think you may repay the compliment with cent per cent interest. I am not in the humour for writing a long letter, so good-bye. G.o.d bless you.

'C. B.'

There are many thoughts on marriage scattered through Charlotte's correspondence. It was a subject upon which she never wearied of asking questions, and of finding her own answers. 'I believe it is better to marry _to_ love than to marry _for_ love,' she says on one occasion. And in reference to the somewhat uncertain att.i.tude of the admirer of one of her friends, she thus expresses herself to Miss Nussey:

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_November_ 20_th_, 1840.

'MY DEAREST NELL,--That last letter of thine treated of matters so high and important I cannot delay answering it for a day. Now I am about to write thee a discourse, and a piece of advice which thou must take as if it came from thy grandmother. But in the first place, before I begin with thee, I have a word to whisper in the ear of Mr. Vincent, and I wish it could reach him. In the name of St.

Chrysostom, St. Simon, and St. Jude, why does not that amiable young gentleman come forward like a man and say all that he has to say personally, instead of trifling with kinsmen and kinswomen. "Mr.

Vincent," I say, "go personally, and say: 'Miss ---, I want to speak to you.' Miss --- will of course civilly answer: 'I am at your service, Mr. Vincent.' And then, when the room is cleared of all but yourself and herself, just take a chair nearer. Insist upon her laying down that silly . . . work, and listening to you. Then begin, in a clear, distinct, deferential, but determined voice: 'Miss ---, I have a question to put to you--a very important question: "Will you take me as your husband, for better, for worse. I am not a rich man, but I have sufficient to support us. I am not a great man, but I love you honestly and truly. Miss ---, if you knew the world better you would see that this is an offer not to be despised--a kind attached heart and a moderate competency." Do this, Mr. Vincent, and you may succeed. Go on writing sentimental and love-sick letters to ---, and I would not give sixpence for your suit." So much for Mr.