Chapter XVI: Literary Friendships (2)

'DEAR PAPA,--I think I shall not come home till Thursday. If all be
well I shall leave here on Monday and spend a day or two with Ellen
Nussey. I have enjoyed my visit exceedingly. Sir J. K. Shuttleworth
has called several times and taken me out in his carriage. He seems
very truly friendly; but, I am sorry to say, he looks pale and very
much wasted. I greatly fear he will not live very long unless some
change for the better soon takes place. Lady S. is ill too, and
cannot go out. I have seen a good deal of Dr. Arnold's family, and
like them much. As to Miss Martineau, I admire her and wonder at her
more than I can say. Her powers of labour, of exercise, and social
cheerfulness are beyond my comprehension. In spite of the unceasing
activity of her colossal intellect she enjoys robust health. She is
a taller, larger, and more strongly made woman than I had imagined
from that first interview with her. She is very kind to me, though
she must think I am a very insignificant person compared to herself.
She has just been into the room to show me a chapter of her history
which she is now writing, relating to the Duke of Wellington's
character and his proceedings in the Peninsula. She wanted an
opinion on it, and I was happy to be able to give a very approving
one. She seems to understand and do him justice.

'You must not direct any more letters here as they will not reach me
after to-day. Hoping, dear papa, that you are well, and with kind
regards to Tabby and Martha,--I am, your affectionate daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO W. S. WILLIAMS

'_October_ 2_nd_, 1850.

'MY DEAR SIR,--I have to thank you for the care and kindness with
which you have assisted me throughout in correcting these _Remains_.

'Whether, when they are published, they will appear to others as they
do to me, I cannot tell. I hope not. And indeed I suppose what to
me is bitter pain will only be soft pathos to the general public.

'Miss Martineau has several times lately asked me to go and see her;
and though this is a dreary season for travelling northward, I think
if papa continues pretty well I shall go in a week or two. I feel to
my deep sorrow, to my humiliation, that it is not in my power to bear
the canker of constant solitude. I had calculated that when shut out
from every enjoyment, from every stimulus but what could be derived
from intellectual exertion, my mind would rouse itself perforce. It
is not so. Even intellect, even imagination, will not dispense with
the ray of domestic cheerfulness, with the gentle spur of family
discussion. Late in the evenings, and all through the nights, I fall
into a condition of mind which turns entirely to the past--to memory;
and memory is both sad and relentless. This will never do, and will
produce no good. I tell you this that you may check false
anticipations. You cannot help me, and must not trouble yourself in
any shape to sympathise with me. It is my cup, and I must drink it,
as others drink theirs.--Yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

Among Miss Bronte's papers I find the following letter to Miss Martineau, written with a not unnatural resentment after the publication of a severe critique of _Shirley_.

TO MISS HARRIET MARTINEAU.

'MY DEAR MISS MARTINEAU,--I think I best show my sense of the tone
and feeling of your last, by immediate compliance with the wish you
express that I should send your letter. I inclose it, and have
marked with red ink the passage which struck me dumb. All the rest
is fair, right, worthy of you, but I protest against this passage;
and were I brought up before the bar of all the critics in England,
to such a charge I should respond, "Not guilty."

'I know what _love_ is as I understand it; and if man or woman should
be ashamed of feeling such love, then is there nothing right, noble,
faithful, truthful, unselfish in this earth, as I comprehend
rectitude, nobleness, fidelity, truth, and disinterestedness.--Yours
sincerely,

'C. B.

'To differ from you gives me keen pain.'

TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL

'_November_ 6_th_, 1850.

'MY DEAR SIR,--Mrs. Arnold seemed an amiable, and must once have been
a very pretty, woman; her daughter I liked much. There was present
also a son of Chevalier Bunsen, with his wife, or rather bride. I
had not then read Dr. Arnold's Life--otherwise, the visit would have
interested me even more than it actually did.

'Mr. Williams told me (if I mistake not) that you had recently
visited the Lake Country. I trust you enjoyed your excursion, and
that our English Lakes did not suffer too much by comparison in your
memory with the Scottish Lochs.--I am, my dear sir, yours sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'AMBLESIDE, _December_ 21_st_, 1850.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I have managed to get off going to Sir J. K.
Shuttleworth's by a promise to come some other time. I thought I
really should like to spend two or three days with you before going
home; therefore, if it is not inconvenient for you, I will come on
Monday and stay till Thursday. I shall be at Bradford (D.V.) at ten
minutes past two, Monday afternoon, and can take a cab at the station
forward to Birstall. I have truly enjoyed my visit. I have seen a
good many people, and all have been so marvellously kind; not the
least so the family of Dr. Arnold. Miss Martineau I relish
inexpressibly. Sir James has been almost every day to take me a
drive. I begin to admit in my own mind that he is sincerely
benignant to me. I grieve to say he looks to me as if wasting away.
Lady Shuttleworth is ill. She cannot go out, and I have not seen
her. Till we meet, good-bye.

'C. BRONTE.'

It was during this visit to Ambleside that Charlotte Bronte and Matthew Arnold met.

'At seven,' writes Mr. Arnold from Fox How (December 21, 1850), 'came
Miss Martineau and Miss Bronte (Jane Eyre); talked to Miss Martineau
(who blasphemes frightfully) about the prospects of the Church of
England, and, wretched man that I am, promised to go and see her
cow-keeping miracles {457a} to-morrow--I, who hardly know a cow from
a sheep. I talked to Miss Bronte (past thirty and plain, with
expressive grey eyes, though) of her curates, of French novels, and
her education in a school at Brussels, and sent the lions roaring to
their dens at half-past nine, and came to talk to you.' {457b}

By the light of this 'impression,' it is not a little interesting to see what Miss Bronte, 'past thirty and plain,' thought of Mr. Matthew Arnold!

TO JAMES TAYLOR, CORNHILL,

'_January_ 15_th_, 1851.

'MY DEAR SIR,--I fancy the imperfect way in which my last note was
expressed must have led you into an error, and that you must have
applied to Mrs. Arnold the remarks I intended for Miss Martineau. I
remember whilst writing about "my hostess" I was sensible to some
obscurity in the term; permit me now to explain that it referred to
Miss Martineau.

'Mrs. Arnold is, indeed, as I judge from my own observations no less
than from the unanimous testimony of all who really know her, a good
and amiable woman, but the intellectual is not her forte, and she has
no pretensions to power or completeness of character. The same
remark, I think, applies to her daughters. You admire in them the
kindliest feeling towards each other and their fellow-creatures, and
they offer in their home circle a beautiful example of family unity,
and of that refinement which is sure to spring thence; but when the
conversation turns on literature or any subject that offers a test
for the intellect, you usually felt that their opinions were rather
imitative than original, rather sentimental than sound. Those who
have only seen Mrs. Arnold once will necessarily, I think, judge of
her unfavourably; her manner on introduction disappointed me
sensibly, as lacking that genuineness and simplicity one seemed to
have a right to expect in the chosen life-companion of Dr. Arnold.
On my remarking as much to Mrs. Gaskell and Sir J. K. Shuttleworth, I
was told for my consolation it was a "conventional manner," but that
it vanished on closer acquaintance; fortunately this last assurance
proved true. It is observable that Matthew Arnold, the eldest son,
and the author of the volume of poems to which you allude, inherits
his mother's defect. Striking and prepossessing in appearance, his
manner displeases from its seeming foppery. I own it caused me at
first to regard him with regretful surprise; the shade of Dr. Arnold
seemed to me to frown on his young representative. I was told,
however, that "Mr. Arnold improved upon acquaintance." So it was:
ere long a real modesty appeared under his assumed conceit, and some
genuine intellectual aspirations, as well as high educational
acquirements, displaced superficial affectations. I was given to
understand that his theological opinions were very vague and
unsettled, and indeed he betrayed as much in the course of
conversation. Most unfortunate for him, doubtless, has been the
untimely loss of his father.

'My visit to Westmoreland has certainly done me good. Physically, I
was not ill before I went there, but my mind had undergone some
painful laceration. In the course of looking over my sister's
papers, mementos, and memoranda, that would have been nothing to
others, conveyed for me so keen a sting. Near at hand there was no
means of lightening or effacing the sad impression by refreshing
social intercourse; from my father, of course, my sole care was to
conceal it--age demanding the same forbearance as infancy in the
communication of grief. Continuous solitude grew more than I could
bear, and, to speak truth, I was glad of a change. You will say that
we ought to have power in ourselves either to bear circumstances or
to bend them. True, we should do our best to this end, but sometimes
our best is unavailing. However, I am better now, and most thankful
for the respite.

'The interest you so kindly express in my sister's works touches me
home. Thank you for it, especially as I do not believe you would
speak otherwise than sincerely. The only notices that I have seen of
the new edition of _Wuthering Heights_ were those in the _Examiner_,
the _Leader_, and the _Athenaeum_. That in the _Athenaeum_ somehow
gave me pleasure: it is quiet but respectful--so I thought, at least.

'You asked whether Miss Martineau made me a convert to mesmerism?
Scarcely; yet I heard miracles of its efficacy and could hardly
discredit the whole of what was told me. I even underwent a personal
experiment; and though the result was not absolutely clear, it was
inferred that in time I should prove an excellent subject.

'The question of mesmerism will be discussed with little reserve, I
believe, in a forthcoming work of Miss Martineau's, and I have some
painful anticipations of the manner in which other subjects, offering
less legitimate ground for speculation, will be handled.

'You mention the _Leader_; what do you think of it? I have been
asked to contribute; but though I respect the spirit of fairness and
courtesy in which it is on the whole conducted, its principles on
some points are such that I have hitherto shrunk from the thought of
seeing my name in its columns.

'Thanking you for your good wishes,--I am, my dear sir, yours
sincerely,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS LAETITIA WHEELWRIGHT

'HAWORTH, _January_ 12_th_, 1851.

'DEAR LAETITIA,--A spare moment must and shall be made for you, no
matter how many letters I have to write (and just now there is an
influx). In reply to your kind inquiries, I have to say that my stay
in London and excursion to Scotland did me good--much good at the
time; but my health was again somewhat sharply tried at the close of
autumn, and I lost in some days of indisposition the additional flesh
and strength I had previously gained. This resulted from the painful
task of looking over letters and papers belonging to my sisters.
Many little mementos and memoranda conspired to make an impression
inexpressibly sad, which solitude deepened and fostered till I grew
ill. A brief trip to Westmoreland has, however, I am thankful to
say, revived me again, and the circumstance of papa being just now in
good health and spirits gives me many causes for gratitude. When we
have but one precious thing left we think much of it.

'I have been staying a short time with Miss Martineau. As you may
imagine, the visit proved one of no common interest. She is
certainly a woman of wonderful endowments, both intellectual and
physical, and though I share few of her opinions, and regard her as
fallible on certain points of judgment, I must still accord her my
sincerest esteem. The manner in which she combines the highest
mental culture with the nicest discharge of feminine duties filled me
with admiration, while her affectionate kindness earned my gratitude.

'Your description of the magician Paxton's crystal palace is quite
graphic. Whether I shall see it or not I don't know. London will be
so dreadfully crowded and busy this season, I feel a dread of going
there.

'Compelled to break off, I have only time to offer my kindest
remembrances to your whole circle, and my love to yourself.--Yours
ever,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. P. BRONTE

'112 GLOUCESTER TERRACE, HYDE PARK,
'LONDON, _June_ 17_th_, 1851.

'DEAR PAPA,--I write a line in haste to tell you that I find they
will not let me leave London till next Tuesday; and as I have
promised to spend a day or two with Mrs. Gaskell on my way home, it
will probably be Friday or Saturday in next week before I return to
Haworth. Martha will thus have a few days more time, and must not
hurry or overwork herself. Yesterday I saw Cardinal Wiseman and
heard him speak. It was at a meeting for the Roman Catholic Society
of St. Vincent de Paul; the Cardinal presided. He is a big portly
man something of the shape of Mr. Morgan; he has not merely a double
but a treble and quadruple chin; he has a very large mouth with oily
lips, and looks as if he would relish a good dinner with a bottle of
wine after it. He came swimming into the room smiling, simpering,
and bowing like a fat old lady, and sat down very demure in his chair
and looked the picture of a sleek hypocrite. He was dressed in black
like a bishop or dean in plain clothes, but wore scarlet gloves and a
brilliant scarlet waistcoat. A bevy of inferior priests surrounded
him, many of them very dark-looking and sinister men. The Cardinal
spoke in a smooth whining manner, just like a canting Methodist
preacher. The audience seemed to look up to him as to a god. A
spirit of the hottest zeal pervaded the whole meeting. I was told
afterwards that except myself and the person who accompanied me there
was not a single Protestant present. All the speeches turned on the
necessity of straining every nerve to make converts to popery. It is
in such a scene that one feels what the Catholics are doing. Most
persevering and enthusiastic are they in their work! Let Protestants
look to it. It cheered me much to hear that you continue pretty
well. Take every care of yourself. Remember me kindly to Tabby and
Martha, also to Mr. Nicholls, and--Believe me, dear papa, your
affectionate daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'_June_ 19_th_, 1851.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I shall have to stay in London a few days longer than I
intended. Sir J. K. Shuttleworth has found out that I am here. I
have some trouble in warding off his wish that I should go directly
to his house and take up my quarters there, but Mrs. Smith helped me,
and I got off with promising to spend a day. I am engaged to spend a
day or two with Mrs. Gaskell on my way home, and could not put her
off, as she is going away for a portion of the summer. Lady
Shuttleworth looks very delicate. Papa is now very desirous I should
come home; and when I have as quickly as possible paid my debts of
engagements, home I must go. Next Tuesday I go to Manchester for two
days.

'C. BRONTE.'

TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY

'112 GLOUCESTER TERRACE,
'HYDE PARK, _June_ 24_th_, 1851.

'DEAR ELLEN,--I cannot now leave London till Friday. To-morrow is
Mr. Smith's only holiday. Mr. Taylor's departure leaves him loaded
with work. More than once since I came he has been kept in the city
till three in the morning. He wants to take us all to Richmond, and
I promised last week I would stay and go with him, his mother, and
sisters. I go to Mrs. Gaskell's on Friday.--Believe me, yours
faithfully,

'C. BRONTE.'

TO REV. P. BRONTE, HAWORTH, YORKS

'112 GLOUCESTER TERRACE,
'_June_ 26_th_, 1851.

'DEAR PAPA,--I have not yet been able to get away from London, but if
all be well I shall go to-morrow, stay two days with Mrs. Gaskell at
Manchester, and return home on Monday 30th _without fail_. During
this last week or ten days I have seen many things, some of them very
interesting, and have also been in much better health than I was
during the first fortnight of my stay in London. Sir James and Lady
Shuttleworth have really been very kind, and most scrupulously
attentive. They desire their regards to you, and send all manner of
civil messages. The Marquis of Westminster and the Earl of Ellesmere
each sent me an order to see their private collection of pictures,
which I enjoyed very much. Mr. Rogers, the patriarch-poet, now
eighty-seven years old, invited me to breakfast with him. His
breakfasts, you must understand, are celebrated throughout Europe for
their peculiar refinement and taste. He never admits at that meal
more than four persons to his table: himself and three guests. The
morning I was there I met Lord Glenelg and Mrs. Davenport, a relation
of Lady Shuttleworth's, and a very beautiful and fashionable woman.
The visit was very interesting; I was glad that I had paid it after
it was over. An attention that pleased and surprised me more I think
than any other was the circumstance of Sir David Brewster, who is one
of the first scientific men of his day, coming to take me over the
Crystal Palace and pointing out and explaining the most remarkable
curiosities. You will know, dear papa, that I do not mention those
things to boast of them, but merely because I think they will give
you pleasure. Nobody, I find, thinks the worse of me for avoiding
publicity and declining to go to large parties, and everybody seems
truly courteous and respectful, a mode of behaviour which makes me
grateful, as it ought to do. Good-bye till Monday. Give my best
regards to Mr. Nicholls, Tabby, and Martha, and--Believe me your
affectionate daughter,

'C. BRONTE.'