the life of charlotte bronte-1-第56章

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la　morgue　de　Wellington：　　parfois　il　lui　temoigna　sa　colere　et　sa　haine　par　des　grognements；　par　des　hurlements　de　betes　fauves；　et　alors；　avec　une　impassibilite　de　senateur　romain；　le　moderne　Coriolan　toisait　du　regard　l'emeute　furieuse；　il　croisait　ses　bras　nerveux　sur　sa　large　poitrine；　et　seul；　debout　sur　son　seuil；　il　attendait；　il　bravait　cette　tempete　populaire　dont　les　flots　venaient　mourir　e　quelques　pas　de　lui：　　et　quand　la　foule；　honteuse　de　sa　rebellion；　venait　lecher　les　pieds　du　maitre；　le　hautain　patricien　meprisait　l'hommage　d'aujourd'hui　comme　la　haine　d'hier；　et　dans　les　rues　de　Londres；　et　devant　son　palais　ducal　d'Apsley；　il　repoussait　d'un　genre　plein　de　froid　dedain　l'incommode　empressement　du　peuple　enthousiaste。　　Cette　fierte　neanmoins　n'excluait　pas　en　lui　une　rare　modestie；　partout　il　se　soustrait　e　l'eloge；　se　derobe　au　panegyrique；　jamais　il　ne　parle　de　ses　exploits；　et　jamais　il　ne　souffre　qu'un　autre　lui　en　parle　en　sa　presence。　　Son　caractere　egale　en　grandeur　et　surpasse　en　verite　celui　de　tout　autre　heros　ancien　ou　moderne。　　La　gloire　de　Napoleon　crut　en　une　nuit；　comme　la　vigne　de　Jonas；　et　il　suffit　d'un　jour　pour　la　fletrir；　la　gloire　de　Wellington　est　comme　les　vieux　chenes　qui　ombragent　le　chateau　de　ses　peres　sur　les　rives　du　Shannon；　le　chene　croit　lentement；　il　lui　faut　du　temps　pour　pousser　vers　le　ciel　ses　branches　noueuses；　et　pour　enfoncer　dans　le　sol　ces　racines　profondes　qui　s'enchevetrent　dans　les　fondements　solides　de　la　terre；　mais　alors；　l'arbre　seculaire；　inebranlable　comme　le　roc　ou　il　a　sa　base；　brave　et　la　faux　du　temps　et　l'effort　des　vents　et　des　tempetes。　　Il　faudra　peut…etre　un　siecle　e　l'Angleterre　pour　qu'elle　connaise　la　valeur　de　son　heros。　　Dans　un　siecle；　l'Europe　entiere　saura　combien　Wellington　a　des　droits　e　sa　reconnaissance。〃


How　often　in　writing　this　paper　〃in　a　strange　land；〃　must　Miss　Bronte　have　thought　of　the　old　childish　disputes　in　the　kitchen　of　Haworth　parsonage；　touching　the　respective　merits　of　Wellington　and　Buonaparte！　　Although　the　title　given　to　her　DEVOIR　is；　〃On　the　Death　of　Napoleon；〃　she　seems　yet　to　have　considered　it　a　point　of　honour　rather　to　sing　praises　to　an　English　hero　than　to　dwell　on　the　character　of　a　foreigner；　placed　as　she　was　among　those　who　cared　little　either　for　an　England　or　for　Wellington。　She　now　felt　that　she　had　made　great　progress　towards　obtaining　proficiency　in　the　French　language；　which　had　been　her　main　object　in　coming　to　Brussels。　　But　to　the　zealous　learner　〃Alps　on　Alps　arise。〃　　No　sooner　is　one　difficulty　surmounted　than　some　other　desirable　attainment　appears；　and　must　be　laboured　after。　　A　knowledge　of　German　now　became　her　object；　and　she　resolved　to　compel　herself　to　remain　in　Brussels　till　that　was　gained。　　The　strong　yearning　to　go　home　came　upon　her；　the　stronger　self…　denying　will　forbade。　　There　was　a　great　internal　struggle；　every　fibre　of　her　heart　quivered　in　the　strain　to　master　her　will；　and；　when　she　conquered　herself；　she　remained；　not　like　a　victor　calm　and　supreme　on　the　throne；　but　like　a　panting；　torn；　and　suffering　victim。　　Her　nerves　and　her　spirits　gave　way。　　Her　health　became　much　shaken。


〃Brussels；　August　1st；　1843。

〃If　I　complain　in　this　letter；　have　mercy　and　don't　blame　me；　for；　I　forewarn　you；　I　am　in　low　spirits；　and　that　earth　and　heaven　are　dreary　and　empty　to　me　at　this　moment。　　In　a　few　days　our　vacation　will　begin；　everybody　is　joyous　and　animated　at　the　prospect；　because　everybody　is　to　go　home。　　I　know　that　I　am　to　stay　here　during　the　five　weeks　that　the　holidays　last；　and　that　I　shall　be　much　alone　during　that　time；　and　consequently　get　downcast；　and　find　both　days　and　nights　of　a　weary　length。　　It　is　the　first　time　in　my　life　that　I　have　really　dreaded　the　vacation。　　Alas！　　I　can　hardly　write；　I　have　such　a　dreary　weight　at　my　heart；　and　I　do　so　wish　to　go　home。　　Is　not　this　childish？　　Pardon　me；　for　I　cannot　help　it。　　However；　though　I　am　not　strong　enough　to　bear　up　cheerfully；　I　can　still　bear　up；　and　I　will　continue　to　stay　（D。　V。）　some　months　longer；　till　I　have　acquired　German；　and　then　I　hope　to　see　all　your　faces　again。　　Would　that　the　vacation　were　well　over！　it　will　pass　so　slowly。　　Do　have　the　Christian　charity　to　write　me　a　long；　long　letter；　fill　it　with　the　minutest　details；　nothing　will　be　uninteresting。　　Do　not　think　it　is　because　people　are　unkind　to　me　that　I　wish　to　leave　Belgium；　nothing　of　the　sort。　　Everybody　is　abundantly　civil；　but　home…　sickness　keeps　creeping　over　me。　　I　cannot　shake　it　off。　　Believe　me；　very　merrily；　vivaciously；　gaily；　yours；

〃C。B。〃

The　GRANDES　VACANCES　began　soon　after　the　date　of　this　letter；　when　she　was　left　in　the　great　deserted　pensionnat；　with　only　one　teacher　for　a　companion。　　This　teacher；　a　Frenchwoman；　had　always　been　uncongenial　to　her；　but；　left　to　each　other's　sole　companionship；　Charlotte　soon　discovered　that　her　associate　was　more　profligate；　more　steeped　in　a　kind　of　cold；　systematic　sensuality；　than　she　had　before　imagined　it　possible　for　a　human　being　to　be；　and　her　whole　nature　revolted　from　this　woman's　society。　　A　low　nervous　fever　was　gaining　upon　Miss　Bronte。　　She　had　never　been　a　good　sleeper；　but　now　she　could　not　sleep　at　all。　Whatever　had　been　disagreeable；　or　obnoxious；　to　her　during　the　day；　was　presented　when　it　was　over　with　exaggerated　vividness　to　her　disordered　fancy。　　There　were　causes　for　distress　and　anxiety　in　the　news　from　home；　particularly　as　regarded　Branwell。　　In　the　dead　of　the　night；　lying　awake　at　the　end　of　the　long　deserted　dormitory；　in　the　vast　and　silent　house；　every　fear　respecting　those　whom　she　loved；　and　who　were　so　far　off　in　another　country；　became　a　terrible　reality；　oppressing　her　and　choking　up　the　very　life…blood　in　her　heart。　　Those　nights　were　times　of　sick；　dreary；　wakeful　misery；　precursors　of　many　such　in　after　years。

In　the　day…time；　driven　abroad　by　loathing　of　her　companion　and　by　the　weak　restlessness　of　fever；　she　tried　to　walk　herself　into　such　a　state　of　bodily　fatigue　as　would　induce　sleep。　　So　she　went　out；　and　with　weary　steps　would　traverse　the　Boulevards　and　the　streets；　sometimes　for　hours　together；　faltering　and　resting　occasionally　on　some　of　the　many　benches　placed　for　the　repose　of　happy　groups；　or　for　solitary　wanderers　like　herself。　　Then　up　againanywhere　but　to　the　pensionnatout　to　the　cemetery　where　Martha　layout　beyond　it；　to　the　hills　whence　there　is　nothing　to　be　seen　but　fields　as　far　as　the　horizon。　　The　shades　of　evening　made　her　retrace　her　footstepssick　for　want　of　food；　but　not　hungry；　fatigued　with　long　continued　exerciseyet　restless　still；　and　doomed　to　another　weary；　haunted　night　of　sleeplessness。　　She　would　thread　the　streets　in　the　neighbourhood　of　the　Rue　d'Isabelle；　and　yet　avoid　it　and　its　occupant；　till　as　late　an　hour　as　she　dared　be　out。　　At　last；　she　was　compelled　to　keep　her　bed　for　some　days；　and　this　compulsory　rest　did　her　good。　　She　was　weak；　but　less　depressed　in　spirits　than　she　had　been；　when　the　school　re…opened；　and　her　positive　practical　duties　recommenced。

She　writes　thus：…

〃October　13th；　1843

〃Mary　is　getting　on　well；　as　she　deserves　to　do。　　I　often　hear　from　her。　　Her　letters　and　yours　are　one　of　my　few　pleasures。　　She　urges　me　very　much　to　leave　Brussels　and　go　to　her；　but；　at　present；　however　tempted　to　take　such　a　step；　I　should　not　feel　justified　in　doing　so。　　To　leave　a　certainty　for　a　complete　uncertainty；　would　be　to　the　last　degree　imprudent。　Notwithstanding　that；　Brussels　is　indeed　desolate　to　me　now。　Since　the　D。s　left；　I　have　had　no　friend。　　I　had；　indeed；　some　very　kind　acquaintances　in　the　family　of　a　Dr。　…；　but　they；　too；　are　gone　now。　　They　left　in　the　latter　part　of　August；　and　I　am　completely　alone。　　I　cannot　count　the　Belgians　anything。　　It　is　a　curious　position　to　be　so　utterly　solitary　in　the　midst　of　numbers。　　Sometimes　the　solitude　oppresses　me　to　an　excess。　　One　day；　lately；　I　felt　as　if　I　could　bear　it　no　longer；　and　I　went　to　Madame　Heger；　and　gave　her　notice。　　If　it　had　depended　on　her；　I　should　certainly　have　soon　been　at　liberty；　but　M。　Heger；　having　heard　of　what　was　in　agitation；　sent　for　me　the　day　after；　and　pronounced　with　vehemence　his　decision；