Charlotte Bronte and Her Circle Part 35

Vincent. Now Miss ---'s turn comes to swallow the black bolus, called a friend's advice. Say to her: "Is the man a fool? is he a knave? a humbug, a hypocrite, a ninny, a noodle? If he is any or all of these, of course there is no sense in trifling with him. Cut him short at once--blast his hopes with lightning rapidity and keenness.

Is he something better than this? has he at least common sense, a good disposition, a manageable temper? Then consider the matter."

Say further: "You feel a disgust towards him now--an utter repugnance. Very likely, but be so good as to remember you don't know him; you have only had three or four days' acquaintance with him. Longer and closer intimacy might reconcile you to a wonderful extent. And now I'll tell you a word of truth, at which you may be offended or not as you like." Say to her: "From what I know of your character, and I think I know it pretty well, I should say you will never love before marriage. After that ceremony is over, and after you have had some months to settle down, and to get accustomed to the creature you have taken for your worse half, you will probably make a most affectionate and happy wife; even if the individual should not prove all you could wish, you will be indulgent towards his little follies and foibles, and will not feel much annoyance at them. This will especially be the case if he should have sense sufficient to allow you to guide him in important matters." Say also: "I hope you will not have the romantic folly to wait for what the French call 'une grande pa.s.sion.' My good girl, 'une grande pa.s.sion' is 'une grande folie.' Mediocrity in all things is wisdom; mediocrity in the sensations is superlative wisdom." Say to her: "When you are as old as I am (I am sixty at least, being your grandmother), you will find that the majority of those worldly precepts, whose seeming coldness shocks and repels us in youth, are founded in wisdom."

'No girl should fall in love till the offer is actually made. This maxim is just. I will even extend and confirm it: No young lady should fall in love till the offer has been made, accepted, the marriage ceremony performed, and the first half-year of wedded life has pa.s.sed away. A woman may then begin to love, but with great precaution, very coolly, very moderately, very rationally. If she ever loves so much that a harsh word or a cold look cuts her to the heart she is a fool. If she ever loves so much that her husband's will is her law, and that she has got into a habit of watching his looks in order that she may antic.i.p.ate his wishes, she will soon be a neglected fool.

'I have two studies: you are my study for the success, the credit, and the respectability of a quiet, tranquil character; Mary is my study for the contempt, the remorse, the misconstruction which follow the development of feelings in themselves n.o.ble, warm, generous, devoted, and profound, but which, being too freely revealed, too frankly bestowed, are not estimated at their real value. I never hope to see in this world a character more truly n.o.ble. She would die willingly for one she loved. Her intellect and her attainments are of the very highest standard. Yet I doubt whether Mary will ever marry. Mr. Weightman expresses himself very strongly on young ladies saying "No," when they mean "Yes." He a.s.sures me he means nothing personal. I hope not. a.s.suredly I quite agree with him in his disapprobation of such a senseless course. It is folly indeed for the tongue to stammer a negative when the heart is proclaiming an affirmative. Or rather, it is an act of heroic self-denial, of which _I_ for one confess myself wholly incapable. _I would not tell such a lie_ to gain a thousand pounds. Write to me again soon. What made you say I admired Hippocrates? It is a confounded "fib." I tried to find something admirable in him, and failed.'

'He is perhaps only like the majority of men' (she says of an acquaintance). 'Certainly those men who lead a gay life in their youth, and arrive at middle-age with feelings blunted and pa.s.sions exhausted, can have but one aim in marriage--the selfish advancement of their interest. Hard to think that such men take as wives--as second-selves--women young, modest, sincere, pure in heart and life, with feelings all fresh and emotions all unworn, and bind such virtue and vitality to their own withered existence, such sincerity to their own hollowness, such disinterestedness to their own haggard avarice--to think this, troubles the soul to its inmost depths.

Nature and justice forbid the banns of such wedlock.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_August_ 9_th_, 1846.

'DEAR NELL,--Anne and I both thank you for your kind invitation. And our thanks are not mere words of course--they are very sincere, both as addressed to yourself and your mother and sisters. But we cannot accept it; and I _think_ even _you_ will consider our motives for declining valid this time.

'In a fortnight I hope to go with papa to Manchester to have his eyes couched. Emily and I made a pilgrimage there a week ago to search out an operator, and we found one in the person of Mr. Wilson. He could not tell from the description whether the eyes were ready for an operation. Papa must therefore necessarily take a journey to Manchester to consult him. If he judges the cataract ripe, we shall remain; if, on the contrary, he thinks it not yet sufficiently hardened, we shall have to return--and Papa must remain in darkness a while longer.

'There is a defect in your reasoning about the feelings a wife ought to experience. Who holds the purse will wish to be master, Ellen, depend on it, whether man or woman. Who provided the cash will now and then value himself, or herself, upon it, and, even in the case of ordinary minds, reproach the less wealthy partner. Besides, no husband ought to be an object of charity to his wife, as no wife to her husband. No, dear Ellen; it is doubtless pleasant to marry _well_, as they say, but with all pleasures are mixed bitters. I do not wish for my friend a very rich husband. I should not like her to be regarded by any man ever as "a sweet object of charity." Give my sincere love to all.--Yours,

'C. BRONTE.'

Many years were to elapse before Charlotte Bronte received her third offer of marriage. These were the years of Brussels life, and the year during which she lost her sisters. It came in the period of her early literary fame, and indeed was the outcome of it. Mr. James Taylor was in the employment of Smith & Elder. He was a.s.sociated with the literary department, and next in command to Mr. W. S. Williams as adviser to the firm. Mr. Williams appears to have written to Miss Bronte suggesting that Mr. Taylor should come to Haworth in person for the ma.n.u.script of her new novel, _Shirley_, and here is Charlotte's reply.

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

'_August_ 24_th_, 1849.

'MY DEAR SIR,--I think the best t.i.tle for the book would be _Shirley_, without any explanation or addition--the simpler and briefer, the better.

'If Mr. Taylor calls here on his return to town he might take charge of the Ms.; I would rather intrust it to him than send it by the ordinary conveyance. Did I see Mr. Taylor when I was in London? I cannot remember him.

'I would with pleasure offer him the homely hospitalities of the Parsonage for a few days, if I could at the same time offer him the company of a brother, or if my father were young enough and strong enough to walk with him on the moors and show him the neighbourhood, or if the peculiar retirement of papa's habits were not such as to render it irksome to him to give much of his society to a stranger, even in the house. Without being in the least misanthropical or sour-natured, papa habitually prefers solitude to society, and custom is a tyrant whose fetters it would now be impossible for him to break. Were it not for difficulties of this sort, I believe I should ere this have asked you to come down to Yorkshire. Papa, I know, would receive any friend of Mr. Smith's with perfect kindness and goodwill, but I likewise know that, unless greatly put out of his way, he could not give a guest much of his company, and that, consequently, his entertainment would be but dull.

'You will see the force of these considerations, and understand why I only ask Mr. Taylor to come for a day instead of requesting the pleasure of his company for a longer period; you will believe me also, and so will he, when I say I shall be most happy to see him.

He will find Haworth a strange uncivilised little place, such as, I daresay, he never saw before. It is twenty miles distant from Leeds; he will have to come by rail to Keighley (there are trains every two hours I believe). He must remember that at a station called Shipley the carriages are changed, otherwise they will take him on to Skipton or Colne, or I know not where. When he reaches Keighley, he will yet have four miles to travel; a conveyance may be hired at the Devonshire Arms--there is no coach or other regular communication.

'I should like to hear from him before he comes, and to know on what day to expect him, that I may have the MS. ready; if it is not quite finished I might send the concluding chapter or two by post.

'I advise you to send this letter to Mr. Taylor--it will save you the trouble of much explanation, and will serve to apprise him of what lies before him; he can then weigh well with himself whether it would suit him to take so much trouble for so slight an end.--Believe me, my dear sir, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL.

'_September_ 3_rd_, 1849.

'MY DEAR SIR,--It will be quite convenient to my father and myself to secure your visit on Sat.u.r.day the 8th inst.

'The MS. is now complete, and ready for you.

'Trusting that you have enjoyed your holiday and derived from your excursion both pleasure and profit,--I am, dear sir, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

Mr. Taylor was small and red-haired. There are two portraits of him before me. They indicate a determined, capable man, thick-set, well bearded: on the whole a vigorous and interesting personality. In any case, Mr. Taylor lost his heart to Charlotte, and was much more persistent than earlier lovers. He had also the advantage of Mr.

Bronte's goodwill. This is all there is to add to the letters themselves.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_September_ 14_th_, 1850.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I found after sealing my last note to you that I had forgotten after all to inclose Amelia's letter; however, it appears it does not signify. While I think of it I must refer to an act of petty larceny committed by me when I was last at Brookroyd. Do you remember lending me a parasol, which I should have left with you when we parted at Leeds? I unconsciously carried it away in my hand. You shall have it when you next come to Haworth.

'I wish, dear Ellen, you would tell me what is the "twaddle about my marrying, etc.," which you hear. If I knew the details I should have a better chance of guessing the quarter from which such gossip comes--as it is, I am quite at a loss. Whom am I to marry? I think I have scarcely seen a single man with whom such a union would be possible since I left London. Doubtless there are men whom, if I chose to encourage, I might marry; but no matrimonial lot is even remotely offered me which seems to me truly desirable. And even if that were the case, there would be many obstacles. The least allusion to such a thing is most offensive to papa.

'An article ent.i.tled _Currer Bell_ has lately appeared in the _Palladium_, a new periodical published in Edinburgh. It is an eloquent production, and one of such warm sympathy and high appreciation as I had never expected to see. It makes mistakes about authorships, etc., but these I hope one day to set right. Mr. Taylor (the little man) first informed me of this article. I was somewhat surprised to receive his letter, having concluded nine months ago that there would be no more correspondence from that quarter. I inclose you a note from him received subsequently, in answer to my acknowledgment. Read it and tell me exactly how it impresses you regarding the writer's character, etc. His little newspaper disappeared for some weeks, and I thought it was gone to the tomb of the Capulets; however, it has reappeared, with an explanation that he had feared its regular transmission might rather annoy than gratify.

I told him this was a mistake--that I was well enough pleased to receive it, but hoped he would not make a task of sending it. For the rest, I cannot consider myself placed under any personal obligation by accepting this newspaper, for it belongs to the establishment of Smith & Elder. This little Taylor is deficient neither in spirit nor sense.

'The report about my having published again is, of course, an arrant lie.

'Give my kind regards to all, and--Believe me, yours faithfully,

'C. B.'

Her friend's reference to _Jupiter_ is to another suggested lover, and the kindly allusion to the 'little man' may be taken to imply that had he persevered, or not gone off to India, whither he was sent to open a branch establishment in Bombay for Smith & Elder, Mr. Taylor might possibly have been successful in the long run.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 30_th_, 1851.

'DEAR NELL,--I am very sorry to hear that Amelia is again far from well; but I think both she and I should try and not be too anxious.

Even if matters do not prosper this time, all may go as well some future day. I think it is not these _early_ mishaps that break the const.i.tution, but those which occur in a much later stage. She must take heart--there may yet be a round dozen of little Joe Taylors to look after--run after--to sort and switch and train up in the way they should go--that is, with a generous use of pickled birch. From whom do you think I have received a couple of notes lately? From Alice. They are returned from the Continent, it seems, and are now at Torquay. The first note touched me a little by what I thought its subdued tone; I trusted her character might be greatly improved.

There were, indeed, traces of the "old Adam," but such as I was willing to overlook. I answered her soon and kindly. In reply I received to-day a longish letter, full of clap-trap sentiment and humbugging attempts at fine writing. In each production the old trading spirit peeps out; she asks for autographs. It seems she had read in some paper that I was staying with Miss Martineau; thereupon she applies for specimens of her handwriting, and Wordsworth's, and Southey's, and my own. The account of her health, if given by any one else, would grieve and alarm me. She talks of fearing that her const.i.tution is almost broken by repeated trials, and intimates a doubt as to whether she shall live long: but, remembering her of old, I have good hopes that this may be a mistake. Her "beloved papa and mama" and her "precious sister," she says, are living, and "gradely."

(That last is my word. I don't know whether they use it in Birstall as they do here--it means in a middling way.)

'You are to say no more about "Jupiter" and "Venus"--what do you mean by such heathen trash? The fact is, no fallacy can be wilder, and I won't have it hinted at even in jest, because my common sense laughs it to scorn. The idea of the "little man" shocks me less--it would be a more likely match if "matches" were at all in question, which _they are not_. He still sends his little newspaper; and the other day there came a letter of a bulk, volume, pith, judgment, and knowledge, worthy to have been the product of a giant. You may laugh as much and as wickedly as you please; but the fact is, there is a quiet constancy about this, my diminutive and red-haired friend, which adds a foot to his stature, turns his sandy locks dark, and altogether dignifies him a good deal in my estimation. However, I am not bothered by much vehement ardour--there is the nicest distance and respect preserved now, which makes matters very comfortable.

'This is all nonsense, Nell, and so you will understand it.--Yours very faithfully,

'C. B.

'The name of Miss Martineau's coadjutor is Atkinson. She often writes to me with exceeding cordiality.'

TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL

'_March_ 22_nd_, 1851.

'MY DEAR SIR,--Yesterday I despatched a box of books to Cornhill, including the number of the _North British Review_ which you kindly lent me. The article to which you particularly directed my attention was read with pleasure and interest, and if I do not now discuss it more at length, it is because I am well aware how completely your attention must be at present engrossed, since, if I rightly understood a brief paragraph in Mr. Smith's last note, you are now on the eve of quitting England for India.