书城公版The Life of Charlotte Bronte
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第130章 CHAPTER III(4)

"My dear Miss ----,--I thank you greatly for your kind letter, and your ready compliance with my proposal, as far as the WILLcan go at least. I see, however, that your friends are unwilling that you should undertake the responsibility of accompanying me under present circumstances. But I do not think there would be any great responsibility in the matter. I know, and everybody knows, that you would be as kind and helpful as any one could possibly be, and I hope I should not be very troublesome. It would be as a companion, not as a nurse, that I should wish for your company; otherwise I should not venture to ask it. As for your kind and often-repeated invitation to ----, pray give my sincere thanks to your mother and sisters, but tell them I could not think of inflicting my presence upon them as I now am. It is very kind of them to make so light of the trouble, but still there must be more or less, and certainly no pleasure, from the society of a silent invalid stranger. I hope, however, that Charlotte will by some means make it possible to accompany me after all. She is certainly very delicate, and greatly needs a change of air and scene to renovate her constitution. And then your going with me before the end of May, is apparently out of the question, unless you are disappointed in your visitors; but Ishould be reluctant to wait till then, if the weather would at all permit an earlier departure. You say May is a trying month, and so say others. The earlier part is often cold enough, Iacknowledge, but, according to my experience, we are almost certain of some fine warm days in the latter half, when the laburnums and lilacs are in bloom; whereas June is often cold, and July generally wet. But I have a more serious reason than this for my impatience of delay. The doctors say that change of air or removal to a better climate would hardly ever fail of success in consumptive cases, if the remedy were taken IN TIME;but the reason why there are so many disappointments is, that it is generally deferred till it is too late. Now I would not commit this error; and, to say the truth, though I suffer much less from pain and fever than I did when you were with us, I am decidedly weaker, and very much thinner. My cough still troubles me a good deal, especially in the night, and, what seems worse than all, Iam subject to great shortness of breath on going up-stairs or any slight exertion. Under these circumstances, I think there is no time to be lost. I have no horror of death: if I thought it inevitable, I think I could quietly resign myself to the prospect, in the hope that you, dear Miss ----, would give as much of your company as you possibly could to Charlotte, and be a sister to her in my stead. But I wish it would please God to spare me, not only for papa's and Charlotte's sakes, but because I long to do some good in the world before I leave it. I have many schemes in my head for future practice--humble and limited indeed--but still I should not like them all to come to nothing, and myself to have lived to so little purpose. But God's will be done. Remember me respectfully to your mother and sisters, and believe me, dear Miss ----, yours most affectionately, "ANNE BRONTE."It must have been about this time that Anne composed her last verses, before "the desk was closed, and the pen laid aside for ever."I.

"I hoped that with the brave and strong My portioned task might lie;To toil amid the busy throng, With purpose pure and high.

II.

"But God has fixed another part, And He has fixed it well:

I said so with my bleeding heart, When first the anguish fell.

III.

"Thou God, hast taken our delight, Our treasured hope, away;Thou bid'st us now weep through the night And sorrow through the day.

IV.

"These weary hours will not be lost, These days of misery,--These nights of darkness, anguish-tost,--

Can I but turn to Thee.

IV.

"With secret labour to sustain In humble patience every blow;To gather fortitude from pain, And hope and holiness from woe.

VI.

"Thus let me serve Thee from my heart, Whate'er may be my written fate;Whether thus early to depart, Or yet a while to wait.

VII.

"If Thou should'st bring me back to life, More humbled I should be;More wise--more strengthened for the strife, More apt to lean on Thee.

VIII.

"Should death be standing at the gate, Thus should I keep my vow;But, Lord, whatever be my fate, Oh let me serve Thee now!"I take Charlotte's own words as the best record of her thoughts and feelings during all this terrible time.

"April 12th.

"I read Anne's letter to you; it was touching enough, as you say.

If there were no hope beyond this world,--no eternity, no life to come,--Emily's fate, and that which threatens Anne, would be heart-breaking. I cannot forget Emily's death-day; it becomes a more fixed, a darker, a more frequently recurring idea in my mind than ever. It was very terrible. She was torn, conscious, panting, reluctant, though resolute, out of a happy life. But it WILL NOT do to dwell on these things.