'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
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