CHAPTER XVII: THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS

Without the kindly assistance of Mr. Arthur Bell Nicholls, this book

could not have been written, and I might therefore be supposed to guide

my pen with appalling discretion in treating of the married life of

Charlotte Bronte. There are, however, no painful secrets to reveal, no

skeletons to lay bare. Mr. Nicholls's story is a very simple one; and

that it is entirely creditable to him, there is abundant evidence. Amid

the full discussion to which the lives of the Brontes have necessarily

been subjected through their ever-continuous fame, it was perhaps

inevitable that a contrary opinion should gain ground. Many of Mr.

Nicholls's relatives in his own country have frequently sighed over the

perverted statements which have obtained currency. 'It is cruel that

your uncle Arthur, the best of men, as we know, should be thus treated,'

was the comment of Mr. Nicholls's brother to his daughter after reading

an unfriendly article concerning Charlotte's husband. Yet it was not

unnatural that such an estimate should get abroad; and I may frankly

admit that until I met Mr. Nicholls I believed that Charlotte Bronte's

marriage had been an unhappy one--an opinion gathered partly from Mrs.

Gaskell, partly from current tradition in Yorkshire. Mrs. Gaskell, in

fact, did not like Mr. Nicholls, and there were those with whom she came

in contact while writing Miss Bronte's Life who were eager to fan that

feeling in the usually kindly biographer. Mr. Nicholls himself did not

work in the direction of conciliation. He was, as we shall see, a

Scotchman, and Scottish taciturnity brought to bear upon the genial and

jovial Yorkshire folk did not make for friendliness. Further, he would

not let Mrs. Gaskell 'edit' and change _The Professor_, and here also he

did wisely and well. He hated publicity, and above all things viewed the

attempt to pierce the veil of his married life with almost morbid

detestation. Who shall say that he was not right, and that his

retirement for more than forty years from the whole region of controversy

has not abundantly justified itself? One at least of Miss Bronte's

friends has been known in our day to complain bitterly of all the trouble

to which she has been subjected by the ill-considered zeal of Bronte

enthusiasts. Mr. Nicholls has escaped all this by a judicious silence.

Now that forty years and more have passed since his wife's death, it

cannot be inopportune to tell the public all that they can fairly ask to

know.

Mr. Nicholls was born in Co. Antrim in 1817, but of Scottish parents on

both sides. He was left at the age of seven to the charge of an

uncle--the Rev. Alan Bell--who was headmaster of the Royal School at

Banagher, in King's Co. Mr. Nicholls afterwards entered Trinity College,

Dublin, and it was thence that he went to Haworth, his first curacy. He

succeeded a fellow countryman, Mr. Peter Augustus Smith, in 1844. The

first impression we have of the new curate in Charlotte's letters is

scarcely more favourable than that of his predecessors.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_October_ 9_th_, 1844.

'DEAR ELLEN,--We are getting on here the same as usual, only that

Branwell has been more than ordinarily troublesome and annoying of

late; he leads papa a wretched life. Mr. Nicholls is returned just

the same. I cannot for my life see those interesting germs of

goodness in him you discovered; his narrowness of mind always strikes

me chiefly. I fear he is indebted to your imagination for his hidden

treasure.--Yours,

'C. B.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_July_ 10_th_, 1846.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Who gravely asked you whether Miss Bronte was not going

to be married to her papa's curate? I scarcely need say that never

was rumour more unfounded. A cold faraway sort of civility are the

only terms on which I have ever been with Mr. Nicholls. I could by

no means think of mentioning such a rumour to him even as a joke. It

would make me the laughing-stock of himself and his fellow curates

for half a year to come. They regard me as an old maid, and I regard

them, one and all, as highly uninteresting, narrow, and unattractive

specimens of the coarser sex.

'Write to me again soon, whether you have anything particular to say

or not. Give my sincere love to your mother and sisters.

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_November_ 17_th_, 1846.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I will just write a brief despatch to say that I

received yours and that I was very glad to get it. I do not know

when you have been so long without writing to me before. I had begun

to imagine you were gone to your brother Joshua's.

'Papa continues to do very well. He read prayers twice in the church

last Sunday. Next Sunday he will have to take the whole duty of the

three services himself, as Mr. Nicholls is in Ireland. Remember me

to your mother and sisters. Write as soon as you possibly can after

you get to Oundle. Good luck go with you.

'C. BRONTE.'

That Scotch reticence held sway, and told against Mr. Nicholls for many a

day to come.

[Picture: THE REV. ARTHUR BELL NICHOLLS]

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_October_ 7_th_, 1847.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I have been expecting you to write to me; but as you

don't do it, and as, moreover, you may possibly think it is my turn,

and not yours, though on that point I am far from clear, I shall just

send you one of my scrubby notes for the express purpose of eliciting

a reply. Anne was very much pleased with your letter; I presume she

has answered it before now. I would fain hope that her health is a

little stronger than it was, and her spirits a little better, but she

leads much too sedentary a life, and is continually sitting stooping

either over a book or over her desk. It is with difficulty we can

prevail upon her to take a walk or induce her to converse. I look

forward to next summer with the confident intention that she shall,

if possible, make at least a brief sojourn at the sea-side.

'I am sorry I inoculated you with fears about the east wind; I did

not feel the last blast so severely as I have often done. My

sympathies were much awakened by the touching anecdote. Did you

salute your boy-messenger with a box on the ear the next time he came

across you? I think I should have been strongly tempted to have done

as much. Mr. Nicholls is not yet returned. I am sorry to say that

many of the parishioners express a desire that he should not trouble

himself to recross the Channel. This is not the feeling that ought

to exist between shepherd and flock. It is not such as is prevalent

at Birstall. It is not such as poor Mr. Weightman excited.

'Give my best love to all of them, and--Believe me, yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

The next glimpse is more kindly.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 28_th_, 1850.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I cannot but be concerned to hear of your mother's

illness; write again soon, if it be but a line, to tell me how she

gets on. This shadow will, I trust and believe, be but a passing

one, but it is a foretaste and warning of what _must come_ one day.

Let it prepare your mind, dear Ellen, for that great trial which, if

you live, it _must_ in the course of a few years be your lot to

undergo. That cutting asunder of the ties of nature is the pain we

most dread and which we are most certain to experience. Lewes's

letter made me laugh; I cannot respect him more for it. Sir J. K.

Shuttleworth's letter did not make me laugh; he has written again

since. I have received to-day a note from Miss Alexander, daughter,

she says, of Dr. Alexander. Do you know anything of her? Mary

Taylor seems in good health and spirits, and in the way of doing

well. I shall feel anxious to hear again soon.

'C. B.

'_P.S._--Mr. Nicholls has finished reading _Shirley_; he is delighted

with it. John Brown's wife seriously thought he had gone wrong in

the head as she heard him giving vent to roars of laughter as he sat

alone, clapping his hands and stamping on the floor. He would read

all the scenes about the curates aloud to Papa. He triumphed in his

own character. {468} What Mr. Grant will say is another thing. No

matter.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _July_ 27_th_, 1851.

'DEAR NELL,--I hope you have taken no cold from your wretched journey

home; you see you should have taken my advice and stayed till

Saturday. Didn't I tell you I had a "presentiment" it would be

better for you to do so?

'I am glad you found your mother pretty well. Is she disposed to

excuse the wretched petrified condition of the bilberry preserve, in

consideration of the intent of the donor? It seems they had high

company while you were away. You see what you lose by coming to

Haworth. No events here since your departure except a long letter

from Miss Martineau. (She did not write the article on "Woman" in

the _Westminster_; by the way, it is the production of a man, and one

of the first philosophers and political economists and metaphysicians

of the day.) {469} Item, the departure of Mr. Nicholls for Ireland,

and his inviting himself on the eve thereof to come and take a

farewell tea; good, mild, uncontentious. Item, a note from the

stiff-like chap who called about the epitaph for his cousin. I

inclose this--a finer gem in its way it would be difficult to

conceive. You need not, however, be at the trouble of returning it.

How are they at Hunsworth yet? It is no use saying whether I am

solitary or not; I drive on very well, and papa continues pretty

well.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

I print the next letter here because, although it contains no reference

to Mr. Nicholls, it has a bearing upon the letter following it. Dr.

Wheelwright shared Mr. Bronte's infirmity of defective eyesight.

TO MISS LAETITIA WHEELWRIGHT

'HAWORTH, _April_ 12_th_, 1852.

'DEAR LAETITIA,--Your last letter gave me much concern. I had hoped

you were long ere this restored to your usual health, and it both

pained and surprised me to hear that you still suffer so much from

debility. I cannot help thinking your constitution is naturally

sound and healthy. Can it be the air of London which disagrees with

you? For myself, I struggled through the winter and the early part

of spring often with great difficulty. My friend stayed with me a

few days in the early part of January--she could not be spared

longer. I was better during her visit, but had a relapse soon after

she left me, which reduced my strength very much. It cannot be

denied that the solitude of my position fearfully aggravated its

other evils. Some long, stormy days and nights there were when I

felt such a craving for support and companionship as I cannot

express. Sleepless, I lay awake night after night; weak and unable

to occupy myself, I sat in my chair day after day, the saddest

memories my only company. It was a time I shall never forget, but

God sent it and it must have been for the best.

'I am better now, and very grateful do I feel for the restoration of

tolerable health; but, as if there was always to be some affliction,

papa, who enjoyed wonderful health during the whole winter, is ailing

with his spring attack of bronchitis. I earnestly trust it may pass

over in the comparatively ameliorated form in which it has hitherto

shown itself.

'Let me not forget to answer your question about the cataract. Tell

your papa my father was seventy at the time he underwent an

operation; he was most reluctant to try the experiment--could not

believe that at his age and with his want of robust strength it would

succeed. I was obliged to be very decided in the matter and to act

entirely on my own responsibility. Nearly six years have now elapsed

since the cataract was extracted (it was not merely depressed). He

has never once, during that time, regretted the step, and a day

seldom passes that he does not express gratitude and pleasure at the

restoration of that inestimable privilege of vision whose loss he

once knew.

'I hope the next tidings you hear of your brother Charles will be

satisfactory for his parents' and sisters' sake as well as his own.

Your poor mamma has had many successive trials, and her uncomplaining

resignation seems to offer us all an example worthy to be followed.

Remember me kindly to her, to your papa, and all your circle,

and--Believe me, with best wishes to yourself, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. P. BRONTE, HAWORTH, YORKS

'CLIFF HOUSE, FILEY, _June_ 2_nd_, 1852.

'DEAR PAPA,--Thank you for your letter, which I was so glad to get

that I think I must answer it by return of post. I had expected one

yesterday, and was perhaps a little unreasonably anxious when

disappointed, but the weather has been so very cold that I feared

either you were ill or Martha worse. I hope Martha will take care of

herself. I cannot help feeling a little uneasy about her.

'On the whole I get on very well here, but I have not bathed yet as I

am told it is much too cold and too early in the season. The sea is

very grand. Yesterday it was a somewhat unusually high tide, and I

stood about an hour on the cliffs yesterday afternoon watching the

tumbling in of great tawny turbid waves, that made the whole shore

white with foam and filled the air with a sound hollower and deeper

than thunder. There are so very few visitors at Filey yet that I and

a few sea-birds and fishing-boats have often the whole expanse of

sea, shore, and cliff to ourselves. When the tide is out the sands

are wide, long, and smooth, and very pleasant to walk on. When the

high tides are in, not a vestige of sand remains. I saw a great dog

rush into the sea yesterday, and swim and bear up against the waves

like a seal. I wonder what Flossy would say to that.

'On Sunday afternoon I went to a church which I should like Mr.

Nicholls to see. It was certainly not more than thrice the length

and breadth of our passage, floored with brick, the walls green with

mould, the pews painted white, but the paint almost all worn off with

time and decay. At one end there is a little gallery for the

singers, and when these personages stood up to perform they all

turned their backs upon the congregation, and the congregation turned

_their_ backs on the pulpit and parson. The effect of this manoeuvre

was so ludicrous, I could hardly help laughing; had Mr. Nicholls been

there he certainly would have laughed out. Looking up at the gallery

and seeing only the broad backs of the singers presented to their

audience was excessively grotesque. There is a well-meaning but

utterly inactive clergyman at Filey, and Methodists flourish.

'I cannot help enjoying Mr. Butterfield's defeat; and yet in one

sense this is a bad state of things, calculated to make working

people both discontented and insubordinate. Give my kind regards,

dear papa, to Mr. Nicholls, Tabby, and Martha. Charge Martha to

beware of draughts, and to get such help in her cleaning as she shall

need. I hope you will continue well.--Believe me, your affectionate

daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_December_ 15_th_, 1852.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I return the note, which is highly characteristic, and

not, I fear, of good omen for the comfort of your visit. There must

be something wrong in herself as well as in her servants. I inclose

another note which, taken in conjunction with the incident

immediately preceding it, and with a long series of indications whose

meaning I scarce ventured hitherto to interpret to myself, much less

hint to any other, has left on my mind a feeling of deep concern.

This note you will see is from Mr. Nicholls.

'I know not whether you have ever observed him specially when staying

here. Your perception is generally quick enough--_too_ quick, I have

sometimes thought; yet as you never said anything, I restrained my

own dim misgivings, which could not claim the sure guide of vision.

What papa has seen or guessed I will not inquire, though I may

conjecture. He has minutely noticed all Mr. Nicholls's low spirits,

all his threats of expatriation, all his symptoms of impaired

health--noticed them with little sympathy and much indirect sarcasm.

On Monday evening Mr. Nicholls was here to tea. I vaguely felt

without clearly seeing, as without seeing I have felt for some time,

the meaning of his constant looks, and strange, feverish restraint.

After tea I withdrew to the dining-room as usual. As usual, Mr.

Nicholls sat with papa till between eight and nine o'clock; I then

heard him open the parlour door as if going. I expected the clash of

the front door. He stopped in the passage; he tapped; like lightning

it flashed on me what was coming. He entered; he stood before me.

What his words were you can guess; his manner you can hardly realise,

nor can I forget it. Shaking from head to foot, looking deadly pale,

speaking low, vehemently, yet with difficulty, he made me for the

first time feel what it costs a man to declare affection where he

doubts response.

'The spectacle of one ordinarily so statue-like thus trembling,

stirred, and overcome, gave me a kind of strange shock. He spoke of

sufferings he had borne for months, of sufferings he could endure no

longer, and craved leave for some hope. I could only entreat him to

leave me then and promise a reply on the morrow. I asked him if he

had spoken to papa. He said he dared not. I think I half led, half

put him out of the room. When he was gone I immediately went to

papa, and told him what had taken place. Agitation and anger

disproportionate to the occasion ensued; if I had _loved_ Mr.

Nicholls, and had heard such epithets applied to him as were used, it

would have transported me past my patience; as it was, my blood

boiled with a sense of injustice. But papa worked himself into a

state not to be trifled with: the veins on his temples started up

like whip-cord, and his eyes became suddenly bloodshot. I made haste

to promise that Mr. Nicholls should on the morrow have a distinct

refusal.

'I wrote yesterday and got this note. There is no need to add to

this statement any comment. Papa's vehement antipathy to the bare

thought of any one thinking of me as a wife, and Mr. Nicholls's

distress, both give me pain. Attachment to Mr. Nicholls you are

aware I never entertained, but the poignant pity inspired by his

state on Monday evening, by the hurried revelation of his sufferings

for many months, is something galling and irksome. That he cared

something for me, and wanted me to care for him, I have long

suspected, but I did not know the degree or strength of his feelings.

Dear Nell, good-bye.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.

'I have letters from Sir J. K. Shuttleworth and Miss Martineau, but I

cannot talk of them now.'

With this letter we see the tragedy beginning. Mr. Bronte, with his

daughter's fame ringing in his ears, thought she should do better than

marry a curate with a hundred pounds per annum. For once, and for the

only time in his life there is reason to believe, his passions were

thoroughly aroused. It is to the honour of Mr. Nicholls, and says much

for his magnanimity, that he has always maintained that Mr. Bronte was

perfectly justified in the attitude he adopted. His present feeling for

Mr. Bronte is one of unbounded respect and reverence, and the occasional

unfriendly references to his father-in-law have pained him perhaps even

more than when he has been himself the victim.

'Attachment to Mr. Nicholls you are aware I never entertained.' A good

deal has been made of this and other casual references of Charlotte

Bronte to her slight affection for her future husband. Martha Brown, the

servant, used in her latter days to say that Charlotte would come into

the kitchen and ask her if it was right to marry a man one did not

entirely love--and Martha Brown's esteem for Mr. Nicholls was very great.

But it is possible to make too much of all this. It is a commonplace of

psychology to say that a woman's love is of slow growth. It is quite

certain that Charlotte Bronte suffered much during this period of

alienation and separation; that she alone secured Mr. Nicholls's return

to Haworth, after his temporary estrangement from Mr. Bronte; and

finally, that the months of her married life, prior to her last illness,

were the happiest she was destined to know.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _December_ 18_th_, 1852.

'DEAR NELL,--You may well ask, how is it? for I am sure I don't know.

This business would seem to me like a dream, did not my reason tell

me it has long been brewing. It puzzles me to comprehend how and

whence comes this turbulence of feeling.

'You ask how papa demeans himself to Mr. Nicholls. I only wish you

were here to see papa in his present mood: you would know something

of him. He just treats him with a hardness not to be bent, and a

contempt not to be propitiated. The two have had no interview as

yet; all has been done by letter. Papa wrote, I must say, a most

cruel note to Mr. Nicholls on Wednesday. In his state of mind and

health (for the poor man is horrifying his landlady, Martha's mother,

by entirely rejecting his meals) I felt that the blow must be

parried, and I thought it right to accompany the pitiless despatch by

a line to the effect that, while Mr. Nicholls must never expect me to

reciprocate the feeling he had expressed, yet, at the same time, I

wished to disclaim participation in sentiments calculated to give him

pain; and I exhorted him to maintain his courage and spirits. On

receiving the two letters, he set off from home. Yesterday came the

inclosed brief epistle.

'You must understand that a good share of papa's anger arises from

the idea, not altogether groundless, that Mr. Nicholls has behaved

with disingenuousness in so long concealing his aim. I am afraid

also that papa thinks a little too much about his want of money; he

says the match would be a degradation, that I should be throwing

myself away, that he expects me, if I marry at all, to do very

differently; in short, his manner of viewing the subject is on the

whole far from being one in which I can sympathise. My own

objections arise from a sense of incongruity and uncongeniality in

feelings, tastes, principles.

'How are you getting on, dear Nell, and how are all at Brookroyd?

Remember me kindly to everybody.--Yours, wishing devoutly that papa

would resume his tranquillity, and Mr. Nicholls his beef and pudding,

'C. BRONTE.

'I am glad to say that the incipient inflammation in papa's eye is

disappearing.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_January_ 2_nd_, 1853.

'DEAR NELL,--I thought of you on New Year's night, and hope you got

well over your formidable tea-making. I trust that Tuesday and

Wednesday will also pass pleasantly. I am busy too in my little way

preparing to go to London this week, a matter which necessitates some

little application to the needle. I find it is quite necessary I

should go to superintend the press, as Mr. Smith seems quite

determined not to let the printing get on till I come. I have

actually only received three proof-sheets since I was at Brookroyd.

Papa wants me to go too, to be out of the way, I suppose; but I am

sorry for one other person whom nobody pities but me. Martha is

bitter against him; John Brown says "he should like to shoot him."

They don't understand the nature of his feelings, but I see now what

they are. He is one of those who attach themselves to very few,

whose sensations are close and deep, like an underground stream,

running strong, but in a narrow channel. He continues restless and

ill; he carefully performs the occasional duty, but does not come

near the church, procuring a substitute every Sunday. A few days

since he wrote to papa requesting permission to withdraw his

resignation. Papa answered that he should only do so on condition of

giving his written promise never again to broach the obnoxious

subject either to him or to me. This he has evaded doing, so the

matter remains unsettled. I feel persuaded the termination will be

his departure for Australia. Dear Nell, without loving him, I don't

like to think of him suffering in solitude, and wish him anywhere so

that he were happier. He and papa have never met or spoken yet. I

am very glad to learn that your mother is pretty well, and also that

the piece of challenged work is progressing. I hope you will not be

called away to Norfolk before I come home: I should like you to pay a

visit to Haworth first. Write again soon.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_March_ 4_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--We had the parsons to supper as well as to tea. Mr. N.

demeaned himself not quite pleasantly. I thought he made no effort

to struggle with his dejection but gave way to it in a manner to draw

notice; the Bishop was obviously puzzled by it. Mr. Nicholls also

showed temper once or twice in speaking to papa. Martha was

beginning to tell me of certain "flaysome" looks also, but I desired

not to hear of them. The fact is, I shall be most thankful when he

is well away. I pity him, but I don't like that dark gloom of his.

He dogged me up the lane after the evening service in no pleasant

manner. He stopped also in the passage after the Bishop and the

other clergy were gone into the room, and it was because I drew away

and went upstairs that he gave that look which filled Martha's soul

with horror. She, it seems, meantime, was making it her business to

watch him from the kitchen door. If Mr. Nicholls be a good man at

bottom, it is a sad thing that nature has not given him the faculty

to put goodness into a more attractive form. Into the bargain of all

the rest he managed to get up a most pertinacious and needless

dispute with the Inspector, in listening to which all my old

unfavourable impressions revived so strongly, I fear my countenance

could not but shew them.

'Dear Nell, I consider that on the whole it is a mercy you have been

at home and not at Norfolk during the late cold weather. Love to all

at Brookroyd.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_March_ 9_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I am sure Miss Wooler would enjoy her visit to you, as

much as you her company. Dear Nell, I thank you sincerely for your

discreet and friendly silence on the point alluded to. I had feared

it would be discussed between you two, and had an inexpressible

shrinking at the thought; now less than ever does it seem a matter

open to discussion. I hear nothing, and you must quite understand

that if I feel any uneasiness it is not that of confirmed and fixed

regard, but that anxiety which is inseparable from a state of

absolute uncertainty about a somewhat momentous matter. I do not

know, I am not sure myself, that any other termination would be

better than lasting estrangement and unbroken silence. Yet a good

deal of pain has been and must be gone through in that case.

However, to each his burden.

'I have not yet read the papers; D.V. I will send them

to-morrow.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.

'Understand that in whatever I have said above, it was not for pity

or sympathy. I hardly pity myself. Only I wish that in all matters

in this world there was fair and open dealing, and no underhand

work.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _April_ 6_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--My visit to Manchester is for the present put off by

Mr. Morgan having written to say that since papa will not go to

Buckingham to see him he will come to Yorkshire to see papa; when, I

don't yet know, and I trust in goodness he will not stay long, as

papa really cannot bear putting out of his way. I must wait,

however, till the infliction is over.

'You ask about Mr. Nicholls. I hear he has got a curacy, but do not

yet know where. I trust the news is true. He and papa never speak.

He seems to pass a desolate life. He has allowed late circumstances

so to act on him as to freeze up his manner and overcast his

countenance not only to those immediately concerned but to every one.

He sits drearily in his rooms. If Mr. Grant or any other clergyman

calls to see, and as they think, to cheer him, he scarcely speaks. I

find he tells them nothing, seeks no confidant, rebuffs all attempts

to penetrate his mind. I own I respect him for this. He still lets

Flossy go to his rooms, and takes him to walk. He still goes over to

see Mr. Sowden sometimes, and, poor fellow, that is all. He looks

ill and miserable. I think and trust in Heaven that he will be

better as soon as he fairly gets away from Haworth. I pity him

inexpressibly. We never meet nor speak, nor dare I look at him;

silent pity is just all that I can give him, and as he knows nothing

about that, it does not comfort. He is now grown so gloomy and

reserved that nobody seems to like him. His fellow-curates shun

trouble in that shape; the lower orders dislike it. Papa has a

perfect antipathy to him, and he, I fear, to papa. Martha hates him.

I think he might almost be _dying_ and they would not speak a

friendly word to or of him. How much of all this he deserves I can't

tell; certainly he never was agreeable or amiable, and is less so now

than ever, and alas! I do not know him well enough to be sure that

there is truth and true affection, or only rancour and corroding

disappointment at the bottom of his chagrin. In this state of things

I must be, and I am, _entirely passive_. I may be losing the purest

gem, and to me far the most precious, life can give--genuine

attachment--or I may be escaping the yoke of a morose temper. In

this doubt conscience will not suffer me to take one step in

opposition to papa's will, blended as that will is with the most

bitter and unreasonable prejudices. So I just leave the matter where

we must leave all important matters.

'Remember me kindly to all at Brookroyd, and--Believe me, yours

faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 16th, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--The east winds about which you inquire have spared me

wonderfully till to-day, when I feel somewhat sick physically, and

not very blithe mentally. I am not sure that the east winds are

entirely to blame for this ailment. Yesterday was a strange sort of

a day at church. It seems as if I were to be punished for my doubts

about the nature and truth of poor Mr. Nicholls's regard. Having

ventured on Whit Sunday to stop the sacrament, I got a lesson not to

be repeated. He struggled, faltered, then lost command over

himself--stood before my eyes and in the sight of all the

communicants white, shaking, voiceless. Papa was not there, thank

God! Joseph Redman spoke some words to him. He made a great effort,

but could only with difficulty whisper and falter through the

service. I suppose he thought this would be the last time; he goes

either this week or the next. I heard the women sobbing round, and I

could not quite check my own tears. What had happened was reported

to papa either by Joseph Redman or John Brown; it excited only anger,

and such expressions as "unmanly driveller." Compassion or relenting

is no more to be looked for than sap from firewood.

'I never saw a battle more sternly fought with the feelings than Mr.

Nicholls fights with his, and when he yields momentarily, you are

almost sickened by the sense of the strain upon him. However, he is

to go, and I cannot speak to him or look at him or comfort him a

whit, and I must submit. Providence is over all, that is the only

consolation.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 19_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I cannot help feeling a certain satisfaction in finding

that the people here are getting up a subscription to offer a

testimonial of respect to Mr. Nicholls on his leaving the place.

Many are expressing both their commiseration and esteem for him. The

Churchwardens recently put the question to him plainly: Why was he

going? Was it Mr. Bronte's fault or his own? "His own," he

answered. Did he blame Mr. Bronte? "No! he did not: if anybody was

wrong it was himself." Was he willing to go? "No! it gave him great

pain." Yet he is not always right. I must be just. He shows a

curious mixture of honour and obstinacy--feeling and sullenness.

Papa addressed him at the school tea-drinking, with _constrained_

civility, but still with _civility_. He did not reply civilly; he

cut short further words. This sort of treatment offered in public is

what papa never will forget or forgive, it inspires him with a silent

bitterness not to be expressed. I am afraid both are unchristian in

their mutual feelings. Nor do I know which of them is least

accessible to reason or least likely to forgive. It is a dismal

state of things.

'The weather is fine now, dear Nell. We will take these sunny days

as a good omen for your visit to Yarmouth. With kind regards to all

at Brookroyd, and best wishes to yourself,--I am, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _May_ 27_th_, 1853.

'DEAR ELLEN,--You will want to know about the leave-taking? The

whole matter is but a painful subject, but I must treat it briefly.

The testimonial was presented in a public meeting. Mr. Taylor and

Mr. Grant were there. Papa was not very well and I advised him to

stay away, which he did. As to the last Sunday, it was a cruel

struggle. Mr. Nicholls ought not to have had to take any duty.

'He left Haworth this morning at six o'clock. Yesterday evening he

called to render into papa's hands the deeds of the National School,

and to say good-bye. They were busy cleaning--washing the paint,

etc., in the dining-room, so he did not find me there. I would not

go into the parlour to speak to him in papa's presence. He went out,

thinking he was not to see me; and indeed, till the very last moment,

I thought it best not. But perceiving that he stayed long before

going out at the gate, and remembering his long grief, I took courage

and went out, trembling and miserable. I found him leaning against

the garden door in a paroxysm of anguish, sobbing as women never sob.

Of course I went straight to him. Very few words were interchanged,

those few barely articulate. Several things I should have liked to

ask him were swept entirely from my memory. Poor fellow! But he

wanted such hope and such encouragement as I could not give him.

Still, I trust he must know now that I am not cruelly blind and

indifferent to his constancy and grief. For a few weeks he goes to

the south of England, afterwards he takes a curacy somewhere in

Yorkshire, but I don't know where.

'Papa has been far from strong lately. I dare not mention Mr.

Nicholls's name to him. He speaks of him quietly and without

opprobrium to others, but to me he is implacable on the matter.

However, he is gone--gone, and there's an end of it. I see no chance

of hearing a word about him in future, unless some stray shred of

intelligence comes through Mr. Sowden or some other second-hand

source. In all this it is not I who am to be pitied at all, and of

course nobody pities me. They all think in Haworth that I have

disdainfully refused him. If pity would do Mr. Nicholls any good, he

ought to have, and I believe has it. They may abuse me if they will;

whether they do or not I can't tell.

'Write soon and say how your prospects proceed. I trust they will

daily brighten.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS LAETITIA WHEELWRIGHT

'HAWORTH, _March_ 18_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR LAETITIA,--I was very glad to see your handwriting again; it

is, I believe, a year since I heard from you. Again and again you

have recurred to my thoughts lately, and I was beginning to have some

sad presages as to the cause of your silence. Your letter happily

does away with all these; it brings, on the whole, good tidings both

of your papa, mamma, your sister, and, last but not least, your dear

respected English self.

'My dear father has borne the severe winter very well, a circumstance

for which I feel the more thankful, as he had many weeks of very

precarious health last summer, following an attack from which he

suffered last June, and which for a few hours deprived him totally of

sight, though neither his mind, speech, nor even his powers of motion

were in the least affected. I can hardly tell you how thankful I

was, dear Laetitia, when, after that dreary and almost despairing

interval of utter darkness, some gleam of daylight became visible to

him once more. I had feared that paralysis had seized the optic

nerve. A sort of mist remained for a long time, and indeed his

vision is not yet perfectly clear, but he can read, write, and walk

about, and he preaches _twice_ every Sunday, the curate only reading

the prayers. _You_ can well understand how earnestly I pray that

sight may be spared him to the end; he so dreads the privation of

blindness. His mind is just as strong and active as ever, and

politics interest him as they do _your_ papa. The Czar, the war, the

alliance between France and England--into all these things he throws

himself heart and soul. They seem to carry him back to his

comparatively young days, and to renew the excitement of the last

great European struggle. Of course, my father's sympathies, and mine

too, are all with justice and Europe against tyranny and Russia.

'Circumstanced as I have been, you will comprehend that I had neither

the leisure nor inclination to go from home much during the past

year. I spent a week with Mrs. Gaskell in the spring, and a

fortnight with some other friends more recently, and that includes

the whole of my visiting since I saw you last. My life is indeed

very uniform and retired, more so than is quite healthful either for

mind or body; yet I feel reason for often renewed feelings of

gratitude in the sort of support which still comes and cheers me from

time to time. My health, though not unbroken, is, I sometimes fancy,

rather stronger on the whole than it was three years ago; headache

and dyspepsia are my worst ailments. Whether I shall come up to town

this season for a few days I do not yet know; but if I do I shall

hope to call in Phillimore Place. With kindest remembrances to your

papa, mamma, and sisters,--I am, dear Laetitia, affectionately yours,

'C. BRONTE.'

Mr. Nicholls's successor did not prove acceptable to Mr. Bronte. He

complained again and again, and one day Charlotte turned upon her father

and told him pretty frankly that he was alone to blame--that he had only

to let her marry Mr. Nicholls, with whom she corresponded and whom she

really loved, and all would be well. A little arrangement, the transfer

of Mr. Nicholls's successor, Mr. De Renzi, to a Bradford church, and Mr.

Nicholls left his curacy at Kirk-Smeaton and returned once more to

Haworth as an accepted lover.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _March_ 28_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--The inclosure in yours of yesterday puzzled me at

first, for I did not immediately recognise my own hand-writing; when

I did, the sensation was one of consternation and vexation, as the

letter ought by all means to have gone on Friday. It was intended to

relieve him of great anxiety. However, I trust he will get it

to-day; and on the whole, when I think it over, I can only be

thankful that the mistake was no worse, and did not throw the letter

into the hands of some indifferent and unscrupulous person. I wrote

it after some days of indisposition and uneasiness, and when I felt

weak and unfit to write. While writing to him, I was at the same

time intending to answer your note, which I suppose accounts for the

confusion of ideas, shown in the mixed and blundering address.

'I wish you could come about Easter rather than at another time, for

this reason: Mr. Nicholls, if not prevented, proposes coming over

then. I suppose he will stay at Mr. Grant's, as he has done two or

three times before, but he will be frequently coming here, which

would enliven your visit a little. Perhaps, too, he might take a

walk with us occasionally. Altogether it would be a little change,

such as, you know, I could not always offer.

'If all be well he will come under different circumstances to any

that have attended his visits before; were it otherwise, I should not

ask you to meet him, for when aspects are gloomy and unpropitious,

the fewer there are to suffer from the cloud the better.

'He was here in January and was then received, but not pleasantly. I

trust it will be a little different now.

'Papa breakfasts in bed and has not yet risen; his bronchitis is

still troublesome. I had a bad week last week, but am greatly better

now, for my mind is a little relieved, though very sedate, and rising

only to expectations the most moderate.

'Sometime, perhaps in May, I may hope to come to Brookroyd, but, as

you will understand from what I have now stated, I could not come

before.

'Think it over, dear Nell, and come to Haworth if you can. Write as

soon as you can decide.--Yours affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 1_st_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--You certainly were right in your second

interpretation of my note. I am too well aware of the dulness of

Haworth for any visitor, not to be glad to avail myself of the chance

of offering even a slight change. But this morning my little plans

have been disarranged by an intimation that Mr. Nicholls is coming on

Monday. I thought to put him off, but have not succeeded. As Easter

now consequently seems an unfavourable period both from your point of

view and mine, we will adjourn it till a better opportunity offers.

Meantime, I thank you, dear Ellen, for your kind offer to come in

case I wanted you. Papa is still very far from well: his cough very

troublesome, and a good deal of inflammatory action in the chest.

To-day he seems somewhat better than yesterday, and I earnestly hope

the improvement may continue.

'With kind regards to your mother and all at Brookroyd,--I am, dear

Ellen, yours affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _April_ 11_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Thank you for the collar; it is very pretty, and I will

wear it for the sake of her who made and gave it.

'Mr. Nicholls came on Monday, and was here all last week. Matters

have progressed thus since July. He renewed his visit in September,

but then matters so fell out that I saw little of him. He continued

to write. The correspondence pressed on my mind. I grew very

miserable in keeping it from papa. At last sheer pain made me gather

courage to break it. I told all. It was very hard and rough work at

the time, but the issue after a few days was that I obtained leave to

continue the communication. Mr. Nicholls came in January; he was ten

days in the neighbourhood. I saw much of him. I had stipulated with

papa for opportunity to become better acquainted. I had it, and all

I learnt inclined me to esteem and affection. Still papa was very,

very hostile, bitterly unjust.

'I told Mr. Nicholls the great obstacle that lay in his way. He has

persevered. The result of this, his last visit, is, that papa's

consent is gained, that his respect, I believe, is won, for Mr.

Nicholls has in all things proved himself disinterested and

forbearing. Certainly, I must respect him, nor can I withhold from

him more than mere cool respect. In fact, dear Ellen, I am engaged.

'Mr. Nicholls, in the course of a few months, will return to the

curacy of Haworth. I stipulated that I would not leave papa; and to

papa himself I proposed a plan of residence which should maintain his

seclusion and convenience uninvaded, and in a pecuniary sense bring

him gain instead of loss. What seemed at one time impossible is now

arranged, and papa begins really to take a pleasure in the prospect.

'For myself, dear Ellen, while thankful to One who seems to have

guided me through much difficulty, much and deep distress and

perplexity of mind, I am still very calm, very inexpectant. What I

taste of happiness is of the soberest order. I trust to love my

husband. I am grateful for his tender love to me. I believe him to

be an affectionate, a conscientious, a high-principled man; and if,

with all this, I should yield to regrets that fine talents, congenial

tastes and thoughts are not added, it seems to me I should be most

presumptuous and thankless.

'Providence offers me this destiny. Doubtless, then, it is the best

for me. Nor do I shrink from wishing those dear to me one not less

happy.

'It is possible that our marriage may take place in the course of the

summer. Mr. Nicholls wishes it to be in July. He spoke of you with

great kindness, and said he hoped you would be at our wedding. I

said I thought of having no other bridesmaid. Did I say rightly? I

mean the marriage to be literally as quiet as possible.

'Do not mention these things just yet. I mean to write to Miss

Wooler shortly. Good-bye. There is a strange half-sad feeling in

making these announcements. The whole thing is something other than

imagination paints it beforehand; cares, fears, come mixed

inextricably with hopes. I trust yet to talk the matter over with

you. Often last week I wished for your presence and said so to Mr.

Nicholls--Arthur, as I now call him, but he said it was the only time

and place when he could not have wished to see you. Good-bye.--Yours

affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 15_th_, 1854.

'MY OWN DEAR NELL,--I hope to see you somewhere about the second week

in May.

'The Manchester visit is still hanging over my head. I have deferred

it, and deferred it, but have finally promised to go about the

beginning of next month. I shall only stay three days, then I spend

two or three days at Hunsworth, then come to Brookroyd. The three

visits must be compressed into the space of a fortnight, if possible.

'I suppose I shall have to go to Leeds. My purchases cannot be

either expensive or extensive. You must just resolve in your head

the bonnets and dresses; something that can be turned to decent use

and worn after the wedding-day will be best, I think.

'I wrote immediately to Miss Wooler and received a truly kind letter

from her this morning. If you think she would like to come to the

marriage I will not fail to ask her.

'Papa's mind seems wholly changed about the matter, and he has said

both to me and when I was not there, how much happier he feels since

he allowed all to be settled. It is a wonderful relief for me to

hear him treat the thing rationally, to talk over with him themes on

which once I dared not touch. He is rather anxious things should get

forward now, and takes quite an interest in the arrangement of

preliminaries. His health improves daily, though this east wind

still keeps up a slight irritation in the throat and chest.

'The feeling which had been disappointed in papa was ambition,

paternal pride--ever a restless feeling, as we all know. Now that

this unquiet spirit is exorcised, justice, which was once quite

forgotten, is once more listened to, and affection, I hope, resumes

some power.

'My hope is that in the end this arrangement will turn out more truly

to papa's advantage than any other it was in my power to achieve.

Mr. Nicholls in his last letter refers touchingly to his earnest

desire to prove his gratitude to papa, by offering support and

consolation to his declining age. This will not be mere talk with

him--he is no talker, no dealer in professions.--Yours

affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_April_ 28_th_, 1854.

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--I have delayed writing till I could give you some

clear notion of my movements. If all be well, I go to Manchester on

the 1st of May. Thence, on Thursday, to Hunsworth till Monday, when

(D.V.) I come to Brookroyd. I must be at home by the close of the

week. Papa, thank God! continues to improve much. He preached twice

on Sunday and again on Wednesday, and was not tired; his mind and

mood are different to what they were, so much more cheerful and

quiet. I trust the illusions of ambition are quite dissipated, and

that he really sees it is better to relieve a suffering and faithful

heart, to secure its fidelity, a solid good, than unfeelingly to

abandon one who is truly attached to his interest as well as mine,

and pursue some vain empty shadow.

'I thank you, dear Ellen, for your kind invitation to Mr. Nicholls.

He was asked likewise to Manchester and Hunsworth. I would not have

opposed his coming had there been no real obstacle to the

arrangement--certain little awkwardnesses of feeling I would have

tried to get over for the sake of introducing him to old friends; but

it so happens that he cannot leave on account of his rector's

absence. Mr. C. will be in town with his family till June, and he

always stipulates that his curate shall remain at Kirk-Smeaton while

he is away.

'How did you get on at the Oratorio? And what did Miss Wooler say to

the proposal of being at the wedding? I have many points to discuss

when I see you. I hope your mother and all are well. With kind

remembrances to them, and true love to you,--I am, dear Nell,

faithfully yours,

'C. BRONTE.

'When you write, address me at Mrs. Gaskell's, Plymouth Grove,

Manchester.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_May_ 22_nd_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I wonder how you are, and whether that harassing cough

is better. Be scrupulously cautious about undue exposure. Just now,

dear Ellen, an hour's inadvertence might cause you to be really ill.

So once again, take care. Since I came home I have been very busy

stitching. The little new room is got into order, and the green and

white curtains are up; they exactly suit the papering, and look neat

and clean enough. I had a letter a day or two since announcing that

Mr. Nicholls comes to-morrow. I feel anxious about him, more anxious

on one point than I dare quite express to myself. It seems he has

again been suffering sharply from his rheumatic affection. I hear

this not from himself, but from another quarter. He was ill while I

was at Manchester and Brookroyd. He uttered no complaint to me,

dropped no hint on the subject. Alas! he was hoping he had got the

better of it, and I know how this contradiction of his hopes will

sadden him. For unselfish reasons he did so earnestly wish this

complaint might not become chronic. I fear, I fear. But, however, I

mean to stand by him now, whether in weal or woe. This liability to

rheumatic pain was one of the strong arguments used against the

marriage. It did not weigh somehow. If he is doomed to suffer, it

seems that so much the more will he need care and help. And yet the

ultimate possibilities of such a case are appalling. You remember

your aunt. Well, come what may, God help and strengthen both him and

me. I look forward to to-morrow with a mixture of impatience and

anxiety. Poor fellow! I want to see with my own eyes how he is.

'It is getting late and dark. Write soon, dear Ellen. Goodnight and

God bless you.--Yours affectionately,

'C. BRONTE.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _May_ 27_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Your letter was very welcome, and I am glad and

thankful to learn you are better. Still, beware of presuming on the

improvement--don't let it make you careless. Mr. Nicholls has just

left me. Your hopes were not ill-founded about his illness. At

first I was thoroughly frightened. However, inquiring gradually

relieved me. In short, I soon discovered that my business was,

instead of sympathy, to rate soundly. The patient had wholesome

treatment while he was at Haworth, and went away singularly better;

perfectly unreasonable, however, on some points, as his fallible sex

are not ashamed to be.

'Man is, indeed, an amazing piece of mechanism when you see, so to

speak, the full weakness of what he calls his strength. There is not

a female child above the age of eight but might rebuke him for spoilt

petulance of his wilful nonsense. I bought a border for the

table-cloth and have put it on.

'Good-bye, dear Ellen. Write again soon, and mind and give a

bulletin.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_June_ 12_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Papa preached twice to-day as well and as strongly as

ever. It is strange how he varies, how soon he is depressed and how

soon revived. It makes me feel so thankful when he is better. I am

thankful too that you are stronger, dear Nell. My worthy

acquaintance at Kirk-Smeaton refuses to acknowledge himself better

yet. I am uneasy about not writing to Miss Wooler. I fear she will

think me negligent, while I am only busy and bothered. I want to

clear up my needlework a little, and have been sewing against time

since I was at Brookroyd. Mr. Nicholls hindered me for a full week.

'I like the card very well, but not the envelope. I should like a

perfectly plain envelope with a silver initial.

'I got my dresses from Halifax a day or two since, but have not had

time to have them unpacked, so I don't know what they are like.

'Next time I write, I hope to be able to give you clear information,

and to beg you to come here without further delay. Good-bye, dear

Nell.--Yours faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.

'I had almost forgotten to mention about the envelopes. Mr. Nicholls

says I have ordered far too few; he thinks sixty will be wanted. Is

it too late to remedy this error? There is no end to his string of

parson friends. My own list I have not made out.'

Charlotte Bronte's list of friends, to whom wedding-cards were to be

sent, is in her own handwriting, and is not without interest:--

SEND CARDS TO

The Rev. W. Morgan, Rectory, Hulcott, Aylesbury, Bucks. Joseph

Branwell, Esq., Thamar Terrace, Launceston. Cornwall.

Dr. Wheelwright, 29 Phillimore Place, Kensington, London.

George Smith, Esq., 65 Cornhill, London.

Mrs. and Misses Smith, 65 Cornhill, London.

W. S. Williams, Esq., 65 Cornhill, London.

R. Monckton Milnes, Esq.

Mrs. Gaskell, Plymouth Grove, Manchester.

Francis Bennoch, Esq., Park, Blackheath, London.

George Taylor, Esq., Stanbury.

Mrs. and Miss Taylor.

H. Merrall, Esq., Lea Sykes, Haworth.

E. Merrall, Esq., Ebor House, Haworth.

R. Butterfield, Esq., Woodlands, Haworth.

R. Thomas, Esq., Haworth.

J. Pickles, Esq., Brow Top, Haworth.

Wooler Family.

Brookroyd. {491}

The following was written on her wedding day, June 29th, 1854.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_Thursday Evening_.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I scribble one hasty line just to say that after a

pleasant enough journey we have got safely to Conway; the evening is

wet and wild, though the day was fair chiefly, with some gleams of

sunshine. However, we are sheltered in a comfortable inn. My cold

is not worse. If you get this scrawl to-morrow and write by return,

direct to me at the post-office, Bangor, and I may get it on Monday.

Say how you and Miss Wooler got home. Give my kindest and most

grateful love to Miss Wooler whenever you write. On Monday, I think,

we cross the Channel. No more at present.--Yours faithfully and

lovingly,

'C. B. N.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _August_ 9_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I earnestly hope you are by yourself now, and relieved

from the fag of entertaining guests. You do not complain, but I am

afraid you have had too much of it.

'Since I came home I have not had an unemployed moment. My life is

changed indeed: to be wanted continually, to be constantly called for

and occupied seems so strange; yet it is a marvellously good thing.

As yet I don't quite understand how some wives grow so selfish. As

far as my experience of matrimony goes, I think it tends to draw you

out of, and away from yourself.

'We have had sundry callers this week. Yesterday Mr. Sowden and

another gentleman dined here, and Mr. and Mrs. Grant joined them at

tea.

'I do not think we shall go to Brookroyd soon, on papa's account. I

do not wish again to leave home for a time, but I trust you will ere

long come here.

'I really like Mr. Sowden very well. He asked after you. Mr.

Nicholls told him we expected you would be coming to stay with us in

the course of three or four weeks, and that he should then invite him

over again as he wished us to take sundry rather long walks, and as

he should have his wife to look after, and she was trouble enough, it

would be quite necessary to have a guardian for the other lady. Mr.

Sowden seemed perfectly acquiescent.

'Dear Nell, during the last six weeks, the colour of my thoughts is a

good deal changed: I know more of the realities of life than I once

did. I think many false ideas are propagated, perhaps

unintentionally. I think those married women who indiscriminately

urge their acquaintance to marry, much to blame. For my part, I can

only say with deeper sincerity and fuller significance what I always

said in theory, "Wait God's will." Indeed, indeed, Nell, it is a

solemn and strange and perilous thing for a woman to become a wife.

Man's lot is far, far different. Tell me when you think you can

come. Papa is better, but not well. How is your mother? give my

love to her.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.

'Have I told you how much better Mr. Nicholls is? He looks quite

strong and hale; he gained 12 lbs. during the four weeks we were in

Ireland. To see this improvement in him has been a main source of

happiness to me, and to speak truth, a subject of wonder too.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _August_ 29_th_.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Can you come here on Wednesday week (Sept. 6th)? Try

to arrange matters to do so if possible, for it will be better than

to delay your visit till the days grow cold and short. I want to see

you again, dear Nell, and my husband too will receive you with

pleasure; and he is not diffuse of his courtesies or partialities, I

can assure you. One friendly word from him means as much as twenty

from most people.

'We have been busy lately giving a supper and tea-drinking to the

singers, ringers, Sunday-school teachers, and all the scholars of the

Sunday and National Schools, amounting in all to some 500 souls. It

gave satisfaction and went off well.

'Papa, I am thankful to say, is much better; he preached last Sunday.

How does your mother bear this hot weather? Write soon, dear Nell,

and say you will come.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. N.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _September_ 7_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I send a French paper to-day. You would almost think I

had given them up, it is so long since one was despatched. The fact

is, they had accumulated to quite a pile during my absence. I wished

to look them over before sending them off, and as yet I have scarcely

found time. That same Time is an article of which I once had a large

stock always on hand; where it is all gone now it would be difficult

to say, but my moments are very fully occupied. Take warning, Ellen,

the married woman can call but a very small portion of each day her

own. Not that I complain of this sort of monopoly as yet, and I hope

I never shall incline to regard it as a misfortune, but it certainly

exists. We were both disappointed that you could not come on the day

I mentioned. I have grudged this splendid weather very much. The

moors are in glory, I never saw them fuller of purple bloom. I

wanted you to see them at their best; they are just turning now, and

in another week, I fear, will be faded and sere. As soon as ever you

can leave home, be sure to write and let me know.

'Papa continues greatly better. My husband flourishes; he begins

indeed to express some slight alarm at the growing improvement in his

condition. I think I am decent, better certainly than I was two

months ago, but people don't compliment me as they do Arthur--excuse

the name, it has grown natural to use it now. I trust, dear Nell,

that you are all well at Brookroyd, and that your visiting stirs are

pretty nearly over. I compassionate you from my heart for all the

trouble to which you must be put, and I am rather ashamed of people

coming sponging in that fashion one after another; get away from them

and come here.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _November_ 7_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Arthur wishes you would burn my letters. He was out

when I commenced this letter, but he has just come in. It is not

"old friends" he mistrusts, he says, but the chances of war--the

accidental passing of letters into hands and under eyes for which

they were never written.

'All this seems mighty amusing to me; it is a man's mode of viewing

correspondence. Men's letters are proverbially uninteresting and

uncommunicative. I never quite knew before why they made them so.

They may be right in a sense: strange chances do fall out certainly.

As to my own notes, I never thought of attaching importance to them

or considering their fate, till Arthur seemed to reflect on both so

seriously.

'I will write again next week if all be well to name a day for coming

to see you. I am sure you want, or at least ought to have, a little

rest before you are bothered with more company; but whenever I come,

I suppose, dear Nell, under present circumstances, it will be a quiet

visit, and that I shall not need to bring more than a plain dress or

two. Tell me this when you write.--Believe me faithfully yours,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _November_ 14_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I am only just at liberty to write to you; guests have

kept me very busy during the last two or three days. Sir J.

Kay-Shuttleworth and a friend of his came here on Saturday afternoon

and stayed till after dinner on Monday.

'When I go to Brookroyd, Arthur will take me there and stay one

night, but I cannot yet fix the time of my visit. Good-bye for the

present, dear Nell.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _November_ 21_st_, 1854,

'DEAR ELLEN,--You ask about Mr. Sowden's matter. He walked over here

on a wild rainy day. We talked it over. He is quite disposed to

entertain the proposal, but of course there must be close inquiry and

ripe consideration before either he or the patron decide. Meantime

Mr. Sowden {495} is most anxious that the affairs be kept absolutely

quiet; in the event of disappointment it would be both painful and

injurious to him if it should be rumoured at Hebden Bridge that he

has had thoughts of leaving. Arthur says if a whisper gets out these

things fly from parson to parson like wildfire. I cannot help

somehow wishing that the matter should be arranged, if all on

examination is found tolerably satisfactory.

'Papa continues pretty well, I am thankful to say; his deafness is

wonderfully relieved. Winter seems to suit him better than summer;

besides, he is settled and content, as I perceive with gratitude to

God.

'Dear Ellen, I wish you well through every trouble. Arthur is not in

just now or he would send a kind message.--Believe me, yours

faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _November_ 29_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Arthur somewhat demurs about my going to Brookroyd as

yet; fever, you know, is a formidable word. I cannot say I entertain

any apprehensions myself further than this, that I should be terribly

bothered at the idea of being taken ill from home and causing

trouble; and strangers are sometimes more liable to infection than

persons living in the house.

'Mr. Sowden has seen Sir J. K. Shuttleworth, but I fancy the matter

is very uncertain as yet. It seems the Bishop of Manchester

stipulates that the clergyman chosen should, if possible, be from his

own diocese, and this, Arthur says, is quite right and just. An

exception would have been made in Arthur's favour, but the case is

not so clear with Mr. Sowden. However, no harm will have been done

if the matter does not take wind, as I trust it will not. Write very

soon, dear Nell, and,--Believe me, yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _December_ 7_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I shall not get leave to go to Brookroyd before

Christmas now, so do not expect me. For my own part I really should

have no fear, and if it just depended on me I should come. But these

matters are not quite in my power now: another must be consulted; and

where his wish and judgment have a decided bias to a particular

course, I make no stir, but just adopt it. Arthur is sorry to

disappoint both you and me, but it is his fixed wish that a few weeks

should be allowed yet to elapse before we meet. Probably he is

confirmed in this desire by my having a cold at present. I did not

achieve the walk to the waterfall with impunity. Though I changed my

wet things immediately on returning home, yet I felt a chill

afterwards, and the same night had sore throat and cold; however, I

am better now, but not quite well.

'Did I tell you that our poor little Flossy is dead? He drooped for

a single day, and died quietly in the night without pain. The loss

even of a dog was very saddening, yet perhaps no dog ever had a

happier life or an easier death.

'Papa continues pretty well, I am happy to say, and my dear boy

flourishes. I do not mean that he continues to grow stouter, which

one would not desire, but he keeps in excellent condition.

'You would wonder, I dare say, at the long disappearance of the

French paper. I had got such an accumulation of them unread that I

thought I would not wait to send the old ones; now you will receive

them regularly. I am writing in haste. It is almost inexplicable to

me that I seem so often hurried now; but the fact is, whenever Arthur

is in I must have occupations in which he can share, or which will

not at least divert my attention from him--thus a multitude of little

matters get put off till he goes out, and then I am quite busy.

Goodbye, dear Ellen, I hope we shall meet soon.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _December_ 26_th_, 1854.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I return the letter. It is, as you say, very genuine,

truthful, affectionate, maternal--without a taint of sham or

exaggeration. Mary will love her child without spoiling it, I think.

She does not make an uproar about her happiness either. The longer I

live the more I suspect exaggerations. I fancy it is sometimes a

sort of fashion for each to vie with the other in protestations about

their wonderful felicity, and sometimes they--FIB. I am truly glad

to hear you are all better at Brookroyd. In the course of three or

four weeks more I expect to get leave to come to you. I certainly

long to see you again. One circumstance reconciles me to this

delay--the weather. I do not know whether it has been as bad with

you as with us, but here for three weeks we have had little else than

a succession of hurricanes.

'In your last you asked about Mr. Sowden and Sir James. I fear Mr.

Sowden has little chance of the living; he had heard nothing more of

it the last time he wrote to Arthur, and in a note he had from Sir

James yesterday the subject is not mentioned.

'You inquire too after Mrs. Gaskell. She has not been here, and I

think I should not like her to come now till summer. She is very

busy with her story of _North and South_.

'I must make this note short that it may not be overweight. Arthur

joins me in sincere good wishes for a happy Christmas, and many of

them to you and yours. He is well, thank God, and so am I, and he is

"my dear boy," certainly dearer now than he was six months ago. In

three days we shall actually have been married that length of time!

Good-bye, dear Nell.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

At the beginning of 1855 Mr. and Mrs. Nicholls visited Sir James

Kay-Shuttleworth at Gawthorpe. I know of only four letters by her,

written in this year.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'HAWORTH, _January_ 19_th_, 1855.

'DEAR ELLEN,--Since our return from Gawthorpe we have had a Mr. Bell,

one of Arthur's cousins, staying with us. It was a great pleasure.

I wish you could have seen him and made his acquaintance; a true

gentleman by nature and cultivation is not after all an everyday

thing.

'As to the living of Habergham or Padiham, it appears the chance is

doubtful at present for anybody. The present incumbent wishes to

retract his resignation, and declares his intention of appointing a

curate for two years. I fear Mr. Sowden hardly produced a favourable

impression; a strong wish was expressed that Arthur could come, but

that is out of the question.

'I very much wish to come to Brookroyd, and I hope to be able to

write with certainty and fix Wednesday, the 31st January, as the day;

but the fact is I am not sure whether I shall be well enough to leave

home. At present I should be a most tedious visitor. My health has

been really very good since my return from Ireland till about ten

days ago, when the stomach seemed quite suddenly to lose its tone;

indigestion and continual faint sickness have been my portion ever

since. Don't conjecture, dear Nell, for it is too soon yet, though I

certainly never before felt as I have done lately. But keep the

matter wholly to yourself, for I can come to no decided opinion at

present. I am rather mortified to lose my good looks and grow thin

as I am doing just when I thought of going to Brookroyd. Dear Ellen,

I want to see you, and I hope I shall see you well. My love to

all.--Yours faithfully,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

There were three more letters, but they were written in pencil from her

deathbed. Two of them are printed by Mrs. Gaskell--one to Miss Nussey,

the other to Miss Wheelwright. Here is the third and last of all.

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'MY DEAR ELLEN,--Thank you very much for Mrs. Hewitt's sensible clear

letter. Thank her too. In much her case was wonderfully like mine,

but I am reduced to greater weakness; the skeleton emaciation is the

same. I cannot talk. Even to my dear, patient, constant Arthur I

can say but few words at once.

'These last two days I have been somewhat better, and have taken some

beef-tea, a spoonful of wine and water, a mouthful of light pudding

at different times.

'Dear Ellen, I realise full well what you have gone through and will

have to go through with poor Mercy. Oh, may you continue to be

supported and not sink. Sickness here has been terribly rife.

Kindest regards to Mr. and Mrs. Clapham, your mother, Mercy. Write

when you can.--Yours,

'C. B. NICHOLLS.'

Little remains to be said. This is not a biography but a bundle of

correspondence, and I have only to state that Mrs. Nicholls died of an

illness incidental to childbirth on March 31st 1855, and was buried in

the Bronte tomb in Haworth church. Her will runs as follows:--

Extracted from the District Probate Registry at York attached to Her

Majesty's High Court of Justice.

_In the name of God_. _Amen_. _I_, CHARLOTTE NICHOLLS, _of Haworth

in the parish of Bradford and county of York_, _being of sound and

disposing mind_, _memory_, _and understanding_, _but mindful of my

own mortality_, _do this seventeenth day of February_, _in the year

of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and fifty-five_, _make this my

last Will and Testament in manner and form following_, _that is to

say_: _In case I die without issue I give and bequeath to my husband

all my property to be his absolutely and entirely_, _but_, _In case I

leave issue I bequeath to my husband the interest of my property

during his lifetime_, _and at his death I desire that the principal

should go to my surviving child or children_; _should there be more

than one child_, _share and share alike_. _And I do hereby make and

appoint my said husband_, _Arthur Bell Nicholls_, _clerk_, _sole

executor of this my last Will and Testament_; _In witness whereof I

have to this my last Will and Testament subscribed my hand_, _the day

and year first above written_--CHARLOTTE NICHOLLS. _Signed and

acknowledged by the said testatrix_ CHARLOTTE NICHOLLS, _as and for

her last Will and Testament in the presence of us_, _who_, _at her

request_, _in her presence and in presence of each other_, _have at

the same time hereunto_ _subscribed our names as witnesses thereto_:

_Patrick Bronte_, B.A. _Incumbent of Haworth_, _Yorkshire_; _Martha

Brown_.

_The eighteenth day of April_ 1855, _the Will of_ CHARLOTTE NICHOLLS,

_late of Haworth in the parish of Bradford in the county of York_

(_wife of the Reverend Arthur Bell Nicholls_, _Clerk in Holy Orders_)

(_having bona notabilia within the province of York_). _Deceased was

proved in the prerogative court of York by the oath of the said

Arthur Bell Nicholls_ (_the husband_), _the sole executor to whom

administration was granted_, _he having been first sworn duly to

administer_.

Testatrix died 31st March 1855.

It is easy as fruitless to mourn over 'unfulfilled renown,' but it is not

easy to believe that the future had any great things in store. Miss

Bronte's four novels will remain for all time imperishable monuments of

her power. She had touched with effect in two of them all that she knew

of her home surroundings, and in two others all that was revealed to her

of a wider life. More she could not have done with equal effect had she

lived to be eighty. Hers was, it is true, a sad life, but such gifts as

these rarely bring happiness with them. It was surely something to have

tasted the sweets of fame, and a fame so indisputably lasting.

Mr. Nicholls stayed on at Haworth for the six years that followed his

wife's death. When Mr. Bronte died he returned to Ireland. Some years

later he married again--a cousin, Miss Bell by name. That second

marriage has been one of unmixed blessedness. I found him in a home of

supreme simplicity and charm, esteemed by all who knew him and idolised

in his own household. It was not difficult to understand that Charlotte

Bronte had loved him and had fought down parental opposition in his

behalf. The qualities of gentleness, sincerity, unaffected piety, and

delicacy of mind are his; and he is beautifully jealous, not only for the

fair fame of Currer Bell, but--what she would equally have loved--for her

father, who also has had much undue detraction in the years that are

past. That Mr. Nicholls may long continue to enjoy the kindly calm of

his Irish home will be the wish of all who have read of his own

continuous devotion to a wife who must ever rank among the greatest of

her sex.

FOOTNOTES

{8} Although so stated by Professor A. W. Ward in the _Dictionary of

National Biography_, vol. xxi.

{14} 'Mama's last days,' it runs, 'had been full of loving thought and

tender help for others. She was so sweet and dear and noble beyond

words.'

{17} 'Some of the West Ridingers are very angry, and declare they are

half-a-century in civilisation before some of the Lancashire folk, and

that this neighbourhood is a paradise compared with some districts not

far from Manchester.'--Ellen Nussey to Mrs. Gaskell, April 16th, 1859.

{19} 'To this bold statement (i.e. that love-letters were found in

Branwell's pockets) Martha Brown gave to me a flat contradiction,

declaring that she was employed in the sick room at the time, and had

personal knowledge that not one letter, nor a vestige of one, from the

lady in question, was so found.'--Leyland. _The Bronte Family_, vol. ii.

p. 284.

{22} Mrs. Gaskell had described Charlotte Bronte's features as 'plain,

large, and ill-set,' and had written of her 'crooked mouth and large

nose'--while acknowledging the beauty of hair and eyes.

{25} Mrs. Lawry of Muswell Hill, to whose courtesy in placing these and

other papers at my disposal I am greatly indebted.

{28} 'Patrick Branty' is written in another handwriting in the list of

admissions at St. John's College, Cambridge. Dr. J. A. Erskine Stuart,

who has a valuable note on the subject in an article on 'The Bronte

Nomenclature' (Bronte Society's Publications, Pt. III.), has found the

name as Brunty, Bruntee, Bronty, and Branty--but never in Patrick

Bronte's handwriting. There is, however, no signature of Mr. Bronte's

extant prior to 1799.

{29} 'I translated this' (_i.e._ an Irish romance) 'from a manuscript in

my possession made by one Patrick O'Prunty, an ancestor probably of

Charlotte Bronte, in 1763.' _The Story of Early Gaelic Literature_, p.

49. By Douglas Hyde, LL.D. T. Fisher Uwin, 1895.

{33} Mrs. Gaskell says 'Dec. 29th'; but Miss Charlotte Branwell of

Penzance writes to me as follows:--'My Aunt Maria Branwell, after the

death of her parents, went to Yorkshire on a visit to her relatives,

where she met the Rev. Patrick Bronte. They soon became engaged to be

married. Jane Fennell was previously engaged to the Rev. William Morgan.

And when the time arrived for their marriage, Mr. Fennell said he should

have to give his daughter and niece away, and if so, he could not marry

them; so it was arranged that Mr. Morgan should marry Mr. Bronte and

Maria Branwell, and afterwards Mr. Bronte should perform the same kindly

office towards Mr. Morgan and Jane Fennell. So the bridegrooms married

each other and the brides acted as bridesmaids to each other. My father

and mother, Joseph and Charlotte Branwell, were married at Madron, which

was then the parish church of Penzance, on the same day and hour.

Perhaps a similar case never happened before or since: two sisters and

four first cousins being united in holy matrimony at one and the same

time. And they were all happy marriages. Mr. Bronte was perhaps

peculiar, but I have always heard my own dear mother say that he was

devotedly fond of his wife, and she of him. These marriages were

solemnised on the 18th of December 1812.'

{39} The passage in brackets is quoted by Mrs. Gaskell.

{49} The passage in brackets is quoted, not quite accurately, by Mrs.

Gaskell.

{53} The following letter indicates Mr. Bronte's independence of spirit.

It was written after Charlotte's death:

'HAWORTH, NR. KEIGHLEY, _January_ 16_th_, 1858.

'SIR,--Your letter which I have received this morning gives both to

Mr. Nicholls and me great uneasiness. It would seem that application

has been made to the Duke of Devonshire for money to aid the

subscription in reference to the expense of apparatus for heating our

church and schools. This has been done without our knowledge, and

most assuredly, had we known it, would have met with our strongest

opposition. We have no claim on the Duke. His Grace honour'd us

with a visit, in token of his respect for the memory of the dead, and

his liberality and munificence are well and widely known; and the

mercenary, taking an unfair advantage of these circumstances, have

taken a step which both Mr. Nicholls and I utterly regret and

condemn. In answer to your query, I may state that the whole expense

for both the schools and church is about one hundred pounds; and that

after what has been and may be subscribed, there may fifty pounds

remain as a debt. But this may, and ought, to be raised by the

inhabitants, in the next year after the depression of trade shall, it

is hoped, have passed away. I have written to His Grace on the

subject--I remain, sir, your obedient servant,

'P. BRONTE.

'SIR JOSEPH PAXTON, BART.,

'Hardwick Hall,

'Chesterfield.'

{56a} The vicar, the Rev. J. Jolly, assures me, as these pages are

passing through the press, that he is now moving it into the new church.

{56b} _Baptisms solomnised in the Parish of Bradford and Chapelry of

Thornton in the County of York_.

_When _Child's _Parent's _Parent's _Abode_. _Quality_, _By whom the

Baptized_. Christian Name_ Name_ _Trade or Ceremony was

Name_. (_Christian_). (_Surname_). Profession_. Performed_.

1816 _Charlotte _The Rev. _Bronte_ _Thornton_ _Minister of _Wm. Morgan

29_th_ _June_ daughter of_ Patrick and Thornton_ Minster of Christ

Maria_. Church Bradford_.

1817 _Patrick _Patrick and _Bronte_ _Thornton_ _Minister_ _Jno. Fennell

_July_ 23 Branwell son Maria_. officiating

of_ Minister_.

1818 _Emily Jane _The Rev. _Bronte_ A.B. _Thornton _Minister of _Wm. Morgan

20_th_ daughter of_ Patrick and Parsonage_ Thornton_ Minster of Christ

_August_ Maria_. Church Bradford_.

1820 _Anne daughter _The Rev. _Bronte_ _Minister of _Wm. Morgan

_March_ 25_th_ of_ Patrick and Haworth_ Minster of Christ

Maria_. Church Bradford_.

{74} At the same time it is worth while quoting from a letter by 'A. H.'

in August 1855. A. H. was a teacher who was at Cowan Bridge during the

time of the residence of the little Brontes there.

'In July 1824 the Rev. Mr. Bronte arrived at Cowan Bridge with two of

his daughters, Maria and Elizabeth, 12 and 10 years of age. The

children were delicate; both had but recently recovered from the

measles and whooping-cough--so recently, indeed, that doubts were

entertained whether they could be admitted with safety to the other

pupils. They were received, however, and went on so well that in

September their father returned, bringing with him two more of his

children--Charlotte, 9 [she was really but 8] and Emily, 6 years of

age. During both these visits Mr. Bronte lodged at the school, sat

at the same table with the children, saw the whole routine of the

establishment, and, so far as I have ever known, was satisfied with

everything that came under his observation.

'"The two younger children enjoyed uniformly good health." Charlotte

was a general favourite. To the best of my recollection she was

never under disgrace, however slight; punishment she certainly did

_not _experience while she was at Cowan Bridge.

'In size, Charlotte was remarkably diminutive; and if, as has been

recently asserted, she never grew an inch after leaving the Clergy

Daughters' School, she must have been a _literal dwarf_, and could

not have obtained a situation as teacher in a school at Brussels, or

anywhere else; the idea is absurd. In respect of the treatment of

the pupils at Cowan Bridge, I will say that neither Mr. Bronte's

daughters nor any other of the children were denied a sufficient

quantity of food. Any statement to the contrary is entirely false.

The daily dinner consisted of meat, vegetables, and pudding, in

abundance; the children were permitted, and expected, to ask for

whatever they desired, and were never limited.

'It has been remarked that the food of the school was such that none

but starving children could eat it; and in support of this statement

reference is made to a certain occasion when the medical attendant

was consulted about it. In reply to this, let me say that during the

spring of 1825 a low fever, although not an alarming one, prevailed

in the school, and the managers, naturally anxious to ascertain

whether any local cause occasioned the epidemic, took an opportunity

to ask the physician's opinion of the food that happened to be then

on the table. I recollect that he spoke rather scornfully of a baked

rice pudding; but as the ingredients of this dish were chiefly, rice,

sugar, and milk, its effects could hardly have been so serious as

have been affirmed. I thus furnish you with the simple fact from

which those statements have been manufactured.

'I have not the least hesitation in saying that, upon the whole, the

comforts were as many and the privations as few at Cowan Bridge as

can well be found in so large an establishment. How far young or

delicate children are able to contend with the necessary evils of a

public school is, in my opinion, a very grave question, and does not

enter into the present discussion.

'The younger children in all larger institutions are liable to be

oppressed; but the exposure to this evil at Cowan Bridge was not more

than in other schools, but, as I believe, far less. Then, again,

thoughtless servants will occasionally spoil food, even in private

families; and in public schools they are likely to be still less

particular, unless they are well looked after.

'But in this respect the institution in question compares very

favourably with other and more expensive schools, as from personal

experience I have reason to know.--A.H., August 1855.'--From _A

Vindication of the Clergy Daughters' School and the Rev. W. Carus

Wilson from the Remarks in_ '_The Life of Charlotte Bronte_,' _by the

Rev. H. Shepheard_, _M.A. London_: _Seeley_, _Jackson_, _and

Halliday_, 1857.

{92} The Rev. William Weightman.

{95} It is interesting to note that Charlotte sent one of her little

pupils a gift-book during the holidays. The book is lost, but the

fly-leaf of it, inscribed 'Sarah Louisa White, from her friend C. Bronte,

July 20, 1841,' is in the possession of Mr. W. Lowe Fleeming, of

Wolverhampton.

{96} 'UPPERWOOD HOUSE, RAWDON, _September _29_th_, 1841.

'DEAR AUNT,--I have heard nothing of Miss Wooler yet since I wrote to

her intimating that I would accept her offer. I cannot conjecture

the reason of this long silence, unless some unforeseen impediment

has occurred in concluding the bargain. Meantime, a plan has been

suggested and approved by Mr. and Mrs. White, and others, which I

wish now to impart to you. My friends recommend me, if I desire to

secure permanent success, to delay commencing the school for six

months longer, and by all means to contrive, by hook or by crook, to

spend the intervening time in some school on the continent. They say

schools in England are so numerous, competition so great, that

without some such step towards attaining superiority we shall

probably have a very hard struggle, and may fail in the end. They

say, moreover, that the loan of 100 pounds, which you have been so

kind as to offer us, will, perhaps, not be all required now, as Miss

Wooler will lend us the furniture; and that, if the speculation is

intended to be a good and successful one, half the sum, at least,

ought to be laid out in the manner I have mentioned, thereby insuring

a more speedy repayment both of interest and principal.

'I would not go to France or to Paris. I would go to Brussels, in

Belgium. The cost of the journey there, at the dearest rate of

travelling, would be 5 pounds; living is there little more than half

as dear as it is in England, and the facilities for education are

equal or superior to any other place in Europe. In half a year, I

could acquire a thorough familiarity with French. I could improve

greatly in Italian, and even get a dash of German, _i.e._, providing

my health continued as good as it is now. Martha Taylor is now

staying in Brussels, at a first-rate establishment there. I should

not think of going to the Chateau de Kockleberg, where she is

resident, as the terms are much too high; but if I wrote to her, she,

with the assistance of Mrs. Jenkins, the wife of the British Consul,

would be able to secure me a cheap and decent residence and

respectable protection. I should have the opportunity of seeing her

frequently, she would make me acquainted with the city; and, with the

assistance of her cousins, I should probably in time be introduced to

connections far more improving, polished, and cultivated, than any I

have yet known.