Chapter 12 Chapter 11 The Villagers

Now I have only one official student.Although she keeps causing trouble and making me worry about it, as if I have to teach three or four ordinary students, although her sister is still learning German and painting, we can enjoy more free time. It has never happened since the shackles of the governess.I spend part of this time writing letters to relatives, and part of it reading, studying, practicing musical instruments, singing, etc.I also used my free time to take a walk in the open space next to the house or in the nearby fields. According to the wishes of the students, sometimes I took them with me, and sometimes I went alone.

The Miss Murrays, when they had nothing agreeable to do, would call upon some of the poor villagers of their father's estate, to receive their compliments and homage, or to listen to old stories and recent gossip from old gossips, Use this as a pastime.Maybe they can also enjoy a purer sense of satisfaction in making the poor happy, because their presence makes the villagers happy.Occasionally they brought small presents, which the villagers accepted with great gratitude, though it came easily to them.Sometimes the sisters, or one of them, ask me to accompany them on such visits.Sometimes, they want me to fulfill their promises for them by myself, for example, to send some small things, or to read something to someone who is sick or seriously ill, because they are more willing to promise than to give. carry out.So I made the acquaintance of a few villagers, and I occasionally went to visit them myself.

Generally speaking, I'd rather go alone than with any of them.Because of their attitude, chiefly due to the defects of the education they received, towards those who were inferior to them in society, I found it very unpleasant to watch.They never put themselves in the shoes of the villagers, and as a result, they can't consider the villagers' feelings at all, but regard them as a completely different kind of people from themselves.They would watch poor people eat and say very rude things about their food and the way they ate it.They would laugh at the villagers' simple ideas and vulgar expressions, making some villagers afraid to speak.They would call them old fools and old fools in front of serious old men and women.They didn't mean to hurt people's feelings on purpose.I could see that people were often offended and annoyed by their behavior, and it was only out of fear of the "ladies" that they showed no complaints.However, they never noticed it.They thought that since the villagers were poor and uneducated, they must be stupid and rough.They are far more noble than the villagers, and now they are willing to put down their airs and talk to them, and reward them with a few shillings and half crown coins and a few clothes, and they have the right to make fun of them.They come condescendingly to take care of the daily needs of the villagers and make them flourish, and people should admire them like angels of light.

I have used various methods many times to try to eliminate their above-mentioned erroneous views without offending their self-esteem (they are easily offended, and once they are offended, it is difficult to comfort them in a short time), but the results are very small. micro.I do not know which of the two is most to blame: Matilda is the rougher and rowdy; It's better, but it's annoying that she looks like a twelve-year-old with a carefree, impertinent attitude. On a fine day in the last week of April, I was walking around the estate, enjoying three rare good things at the same time: the quiet of solitude, a book, and the pleasant weather.For, at this time of day, Miss Matilda rode away.Miss Murray went out today in a carriage with her mother to see friends and relatives.The manor is covered with a beautiful blue canopy. The westerly wind blows through the branches that have not yet grown new leaves. There is still a layer of residual snow in the potholes, but it quickly melts under the sun. Lick wet grass that has already shown the freshness and verdure of spring.It occurred to me that I should give up my selfish enjoyment and go away to the home of a villager named Nancy Brown.She was a widow, her son had to work in the fields all day, and she herself had been unable to read for some time because her eyes were inflamed, which was a very sad thing for her, for she was a serious, good-natured pensive woman.So I went, and found her alone, as usual, in her small, stuffy, dark, smoky and foul-smelling hut, though she had kept her home as neat and tidy as she could.She was sitting by the small fire (only some red coals and a few sticks) and knitting.At her feet was a cushion of sackcloth, the seat of her mild-tempered friend, the cat.The cat was sitting on the cushion now, with its long tail wrapped halfway around its velvety paws; its eyes were half-closed, staring sleepily at the low, askew grate.

"Hello, Nancy, how are you feeling today?" "Oh, madam, I think I'm all right, my eyes aren't better, but I'm more at ease than ever," she answered, rising to welcome me as she spoke, with a satisfied smile on her face.Her smile made me happy, because Nancy had been a little depressed a while ago because of her religious beliefs.I congratulate her on her improved mood.She agreed, saying it was a great blessing from God and she was "thankful for it from the bottom of my heart".She also said, "If God will let me see again and read the Bible again, then I will be as happy as a queen."

"I hope God will, Nancy," I replied, "and I'll come and read you from the Bible now and then, while I can find some time while you're recovering your sight." The poor woman stood up with a look of gratitude and delight, and offered me a chair, but I hastened to carry it myself.So she went to get the fire ready, adding a few logs to the dying embers.Then she took her well-worn Bible from the shelf and dusted it carefully before handing it to me.I asked her which passage she wanted me to read to her, and she replied, "Well, Miss Gray, if you can read any passage, I'd still like to hear 'God is love and lives in love' in 1 John." He who dwells in God, and God in him' this verse."

I searched and found these words in chapter four.When I got to the seventh verse, she interrupted me and unnecessarily apologized for saying she was being rude.She wanted me to read it as slowly as possible, so that she could hear it all and remember every word; she begged my pardon, because she was only a "simple mind." "The wisest man," I answered, "may think on each stanza for an hour, and that will do him good. I'd rather read it slowly than not understand it." So I read the chapter as slowly as she wanted, and at the same time, as deeply and movingly as I could.The listeners were very attentive throughout.When I finished, she thanked me sincerely.I sat quietly for about half a minute, giving her time to think about what it was about.I was somewhat surprised when she broke the silence by asking me if I liked Mr. Weston.

"I can't tell," I replied, a little taken aback by her suddenness in asking the question. "I think he preached very well." "Yes, indeed, and his talk is just as good." "yes?" "Yes. Perhaps you haven't met him—haven't talked to him much?" "No. Except with the two young ladies of that family, I never speak to anyone else." "Oh, they're good ladies, but their talk isn't as good as his." "So, Nancy, he comes to see you often?" "He came, ma'am. I'm very grateful to him for that. He comes to see all of us poor people more often than the Rev. Bligh and the Rector. It's a good thing he comes, because we welcome him whenever he comes. To the parish The rector can't say that, they're all afraid of him. They say the rector can always find fault with the house he enters. As soon as he stepped over the doorstep, he yelled at the people. , but he probably felt it was his duty to find fault with everyone. He often went out of his way to scold someone for not going to church, or went to church without kneeling or standing up, or went The Methodist church and things like that. He didn't find much fault with me, though. The rector came to me once or twice before Mr. Weston came. During that time, I I was very distressed, and very ill, so I ventured to have him sent for, and he came quickly. I was in great pain then--Thank God, Miss Gray, it's all over now-- But when I picked up the Bible, I couldn't take comfort from it at all. The chapter you just read to me, "He who doesn't love does not know God" caused me pain that I shouldn't have. I was afraid because I Feeling that I did not love God or man as I should. I tried, but could not. In the previous chapter it was said, 'He that is born of God does not sin.' There is another place that says , 'So love is the fulfillment of the law.' There is much, much more, Miss, which would bore you if I told you all. But it all seems to reproach me, and point out that I am not on the right track. Just as I didn't know what to do to be on the right track, I sent my Bill to ask Mr. Hatfield to come and see me some day, and when he came I told him all my troubles. "

"What did he say, Nancy?" "Oh, ma'am, he looked like he was laughing at me. I might be wrong, but there was a sort of hiss in his mouth, and I saw the smile on his face. He said, 'Oh, it's all bullshit! My good old lady, you're with the Methodists.' I told him I'd never been near a Methodist. And he said, 'Well then, you must come to church, You can hear the correct interpretation of the Bible there, instead of sitting at home with a Bible and thinking hard.' "I told him I always went to church as long as I was well. But it was so cold this winter that I dared not go that far--I had a terrible rheumatism, and many other things.

"But he said, 'You'll be good for your rheumatism if you limp to church, and rheumatism only gets better if you move around. If you can walk around the house, why can't you go to church? The truth is In this way, you are more and more greedy for comfort, and if you want to evade responsibility, it is not easy to find an excuse!' "You know, Miss Gray, that's not the case. Still, I told him I must try. 'But, excuse me, sir,' said I, 'how much better would it be if I went to church? I'll To erase all my sins, to feel that no one is against me for remembering my sins, and to feel the love of God flowing into my heart. If I read the Bible and pray at home If it doesn't work, what good is it for me to go to church?"

"'Church,' he said, 'is God's appointed place for people to worship him. It is your duty to go to church as much as possible. If you want comfort, you must seek it in the course of your duty.' He also said many other Yes, but I can't remember all his nice words. But a thousand words mean the same thing: I've got to go to church as often as I can, and I'm going to take my prayer book with me, and I'm going to read all the benefactors with the deacon to stand up, to kneel, to sit up, to do everything, to take every communion, and to hear him and Mr. Bligh preach. If it does, all will be well. If I can continue to fulfill my responsibilities, and finally I will be blessed by God. "'But if you have no comfort in doing so,' said he, 'it is over.' "'By then, sir,' said I, 'will you consider me a castaway?' "'Ah,' said he, '...if you try hard to get into heaven, but don't get in, then you're one of the many who try to get in through the narrow gate and can't get in.' "Then he asked me if I had seen any of the ladies of the house that morning in the vicinity. I told him where I had seen the two ladies walking down the Moss Road. He lifted my foot The poor cat kicked from one end of the floor to the other, and ran after them, as happy as a lark. But I was very sad. His last words sank like a piece of lead in the bottom of my heart , until I get bored. "Anyway, I did as he was told. I think he said it with good intentions, though he did look a little queer. But, you know, madam, he's rich and young, so One cannot rightly understand the mind of such a poor old woman as I am. But, even so, I did my best to do as he told me to--but, miss, I'm afraid I'll bore you with my babbling. .” "Oh no, Nancy! Go on, and tell me all about it." "Well, my rheumatism is better—I don't know if it has anything to do with going to church or not. But, on that very cold Sunday, my eyes froze—but I'm not going to You talk about my eyes, I want to talk about my troubles. To tell the truth, Miss Gray, I don't think going to church has relieved my troubles, at least I can't say anything. I'm glad I'm better, but this It did nothing to my heart. I listened and listened to the preacher, and read and read my prayer-book, but it was all like clanging gongs and clanging cymbals: the sermons I could not understand, and the prayer-book Only point out how bad I am. I read the good things, but I can't make myself better. Besides, I read it as a drudgery, a heavy burden, and not like all good Christians, as a God's blessing and my own special privilege. It seemed to me that all seemed desolate and dark. And that dreadful word: 'Many want to get in, but cannot get in.' It seemed to take my soul All drained. "However, one Sunday, when Mr. Hetfield was distributing the sacrament, I noticed that he said something like, 'If any of you cannot get his consciences at peace, and needs further comfort or counsel, he will Come to me, or some other wise and learned spokesman for God, and tell him all your fears!" So the next Sunday morning, before service, I went into the vestry of the church for a little while, I wanted to tell the rector again what was on my mind. I was not used to such presumptuous things, but now that my soul was in danger, I couldn't care less. But he said he didn't have time to listen T. "'In truth,' said he, 'I have nothing more to say to you than what I have said to you before. Take communion, of course, and go on with your duty. Without you, there is nothing else to do. So, don't bother me any more.' "So I went away. But, I heard Mr. Weston's voice--Miss, Mr. Weston's there too--you know, it's his first Sunday at Houghton, and he's wearing A white cassock, helping the rector with his robes in the sacristy—” "Really, Nancy?" "I heard him asking Mr Hetfield who I was, and the rector said, 'Oh, she's a pious-looking old fool.' "I was very sorry to hear that, Miss Grey, but I went back to my seat and tried to do my duty as before, and to worship, but my heart couldn't be calmer anymore. I even took Communion." , but when I was eating and drinking, I always felt as if I was cursing myself to go to hell. So when I came home, I was very miserable. "But the next day, I hadn't tidied up the room--because, miss, I hadn't really bothered to sweep, tidy up, to scrub pots and pots. I was sitting in the midst of this mess--and When someone came, who could it be but Mr. Weston! I hurried to pack up, sweep the floor, and do this and that. I thought he would call me as loud as Mr. Hetfield for my indolence, but I was wrong. He just said good morning to me very calmly and politely. I dusted a chair, offered him to sit, and turned the coals in the stove a little, but I didn't forget the rector's words, so I said, 'Sir, I don't know if you're worth it, sir, to come all the way to see me, a pious old fool!' "It seemed to startle him, but he tried to reassure me that the rector was only joking when he said it. Seeing that I didn't believe it, he said, 'Well, Nancy, you don't have to think about it. Mr. Hatfield was in a bad mood, you know, we're not perfect--even Moses said indiscretions. If you have time now, please sit down and talk Tell me all the doubts and fears in your heart, and I will try to help you get rid of these distressing things.' "So I sat down beside him. Miss Grey, you know, he was a total stranger to me, and I think he was younger than Mr. Hatfield. I used to think he looked less like Hatfield. The gentleman was so good-looking that at first glance he seemed a little curmudgeon, but he spoke so politely that when the poor cat jumped up on his lap he just stroked it with his hand and smiled a little. I thought it was a good omen, because once when the cat jumped on top of the Rector, he knocked it down, looking disgusted and angry, poor cat. But, you know, Miss Gray, you You can't expect a cat to be polite like a Christian." "No, of course not, Nancy. But what does Mr. Weston say next?" "He didn't say anything, just very attentive. He listened to me very patiently, never with a hint of sneer, so I went on and said all that was on my mind, as I told you—even Say more. "'Yes,' said he, 'Mr Hetfield is quite right in asking you to do your duty, but when he enjoins you to go to church, attend services, etc., he does not mean that this is a Christian He just wants to make you realize that there is something else to do in church so that you can enjoy those activities instead of seeing them as a chore and a burden. If you ask him to explain that to you I think he will tell you a sentence that distresses you so much: If many people try to enter through the narrow gate and cannot, it is because their own sins prevent them. Baggage tries to get through a narrow door, and finds itself the only way to get rid of it. But, Nancy, I daresay you'd gladly drop any baggage if you knew how to do it, Do you say so?' "'Yes, sir, you are telling the truth,' said I. "'Well,' said he, 'the first commandment is the most important--the second is equally important--these two commandments are the sum of all the laws and all the teachings of the prophets, you know that You say you can't love God, but it seems to me that if you think about who he is and what he does, you can't help loving him. He's your father, your best friend, All happiness, everything that is good, joyful, and useful comes from him. And all evil, everything that you have reason to hate, flee, fear comes from Satan. Satan is the enemy of God, and the enemy of us all. God manifests for Such a purpose: to destroy all the deeds of Satan. In short, God is love. As long as we have more love in our hearts, we will be closer to him and have more of his spirit.' "'Well, sir,' said I, 'if I could think of these things often, I think I might love God. But how can I love my neighbors? They annoy me, and are against me, Some are evil.' "'It seems a difficult thing,' said he, 'to love our neighbors, but there is so much evil in them, and their faults often awaken the evil that is in us. But, remember: He created them, He loves them, like his father like his son. God loves us so much that he sacrificed his only son for us, and we should love each other too. But if you You can't love those who don't care about you, at least you try to do this: treat others how you want others to treat you; you can try to sympathize with others' failures, forgive others for their mistakes, and treat the people around you Do all the kindness you can. If you go on and get into the habit of doing it, Nancy, the very effort you expend will endow you with a measure of love for them—not to mention your kindness will arouse their love. friendly affections, even if they have no other goodness than that. If we love God and wish to serve him, let us try to follow his example, and do the work he has to do, for his glory ( That is the goodness of men), work for the early coming of his kingdom (peace and happiness for the whole world). Although we seem to have little power, if we try to do good things in our lives, the humblest of us can do them Let us live in love, then he lives in us, and we live in him. We give happiness to others, and the more we give, the more we receive, even in this world ;if at last we shall end our labors and go to heaven, we shall be rewarded more.' I believe these are his words, miss, because I have thought of them many times. Then he took up the book " Bible, read some passages for me, and explained it as bright as day. It was like a new light shone into my soul, and my heart felt bright. I only hope that poor Bill and all Everyone can be here, can hear everything he said, and share the joy with me. "After he left, a neighbor named Hannah Rogers came up to me and asked me to do her laundry. I told her not now, because the potatoes for lunch hadn't been picked up, and the things for breakfast hadn't been washed. She I started calling me lazy and dirty. At first I was a little angry, but I didn't say a word to hurt her. I just said to her calmly that the new pastor was watching me, and said, I hurry up Go and help her when the work is done. Immediately her voice softened, and I felt my heart warm towards her, and in a short while we were very good friends. That is true, Miss Grey,' answered softly, wrath subsides, speaks violently, provokes anger.' Not only the person you are talking to, but you yourself." "Exactly, Nancy, and may we always remember those words." "Oh, if only we could remember!" "Has Mr. Weston ever seen you again?" "Yes, he has been here many times. Because my eyesight is so bad, he just sits and reads to me from the Bible for half an hour. But, miss, you know he has to visit people, and Something else to do--God bless him! The following Sunday he gave such a good sermon! The scripture he quoted was "Come to me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you Rest in peace," and the next two verses. You were away, miss, when you went home to visit—but how happy his sermon made me! I am happy indeed, thank God! Now I I can do little things for my neighbors (as a half-blind old man can do) and get pleasure out of it. As he said, people have kindly accepted my help. You see, I'm knitting a pair of Socks, this one was for Thomas Jackson, a queer old man with whom I had many fights at the harvest, sometimes violently. So I thought, the best thing I can do is Knit him a pair of warm socks. When I started knitting, I thought I grew to like the poor old man. The change that took place was exactly what Mr. Weston said." "Well, I'm really glad to see you so jovial and clever, Nancy. But I must go now, the house must be looking for me." I said good-bye to her, and as I went I also promised her that as long as I have time, I will come to see her.I felt myself almost as happy as she was. Another time I went to read from the Bible to a poor farmhand who was suffering from a terminal lung disease.The two ladies had visited him, and reluctantly agreed to read the Bible to him later.However, it was too troublesome, so they begged me to do it for them.I went of my own volition, and there I was again satisfied to hear the praises of Mr. Weston, both from the patient and from his wife.The patient said that the new pastor often visited him, and brought him great comfort and benefit.The new clergyman, he surmised, was a very different sort of man from Mr. Hatfield.Before the new vicar came to Houghton, Mr. Hetfield came here occasionally.While he was here, he insisted on keeping the door of the hut open.He only cared about his own fitness and wanted to let in fresh air, but he didn't think at all that the patient would not be able to stand the cool breeze.He opened his prayer-book, hurriedly read a prayer for the sick man, and hurried away again.Or else he stayed and lashed out at the distressed wife, making flippant, if not heartless, comments that would aggravate rather than alleviate the suffering of the couple. "On the contrary," said the man, "Mr. Weston would pray with me in a very different way. He talked to me very kindly, and used to sit by my side and read the Bible to me, just like my own father." Brothers." "That's true!" cried his wife. "About three weeks ago, when he saw Jem shivering poorly, and saw how weak our fire was, he asked if our coal was fast." It ran out. I told him, yes, we have no money to buy any more coal. Miss, you know I don't want him to help us. But the next day, he brought us a sack of coal, and we The fire is going on again. It's a great blessing in such a cold winter. That's just his way of doing things, Miss Gray. When he visits the sick in the poor's house, he always pays attention to the poorest house first. What is lacking, as long as he feels that the family can't afford it, he never says he has noticed, but buys the most lacking thing for them. This is not what everyone with his income is willing to do You know, madam, he lives on what the rectory pays him, and they say he gets very little." I then thought with a sort of flattery that the amiable Miss Murray had often called him a vulgar man, for he had only a silver watch, and was not so handsomely dressed as Mr. Hetfield. ,Fresh. I was very happy on the way back to the mansion.I thank God that now I finally have something I'm interested in.It's something that can be pondered carefully, which is a relief for the monotonous, boring, lonely, and dull life I am currently living, because I am really too lonely.Month after month, year after year, except for short vacations at home, I never met a single person to whom I could open up about my thoughts and hope to gain sympathy, or at least understanding.There isn't even one, unless you count poor Nancy Brown.With her, I could enjoy a moment of real human contact, and her words would make me a better, wiser, happier person than I was before; She has benefited greatly.My only companions were unlovable children and two ignorant and headstrong girls.They run amok and wear me down so often that my long-cherished and infinitely cherished relief is often undisturbed solitude.But these are the only people I associate with, and it is a very harmful thing, both in its immediate consequences and in its possible effects.I never had any new ideas or exciting thoughts from without, and most of the thoughts conceived in my heart, because they could not see the light, were tragically destroyed in a short time, or were destined to wither and wither. It is well known that frequent companions exert a great influence on one another's thoughts and actions.Those who are always moving before your eyes and always talking in your ears will naturally become your guides, and even if you don't want to, you will slowly, gradually, imperceptibly move like them, like them spoke.I dare not say how strong the irresistible force of assimilation is, but if a civilized man is destined to live for a dozen years among stubborn savages, unless he has the ability to improve them, I really don't know. Knowing whether he himself will become a barbarian in more than ten years.Since I could not make my young companions better, I feared that they would make me worse—gradually bring down my affections, habits, powers, to their level, without deriving from them the ease, Happy and lively spirit. I have long felt that my intellectual level seems to be declining, my heart is gradually losing vitality, and my soul is shrinking.I am afraid that I will gradually lose my sense of morality, that I will lose my sense of right and wrong, and that all the good things in me will eventually disappear under the harmful influence of this life.A cloud of earthly mist gathers around me, And veils the heaven within me.Just then, at last, Mr. Weston appeared before me, rising like a morning star on the horizon of my life, and rescuing me from the fear of the boundless darkness.I am glad that now at last I have someone who is superior to me and not inferior to whom I can miss dearly.I am glad to see that the world is not all made up of Bromfields, Murrays, and Ashbys, and that human virtue is not a mere figment of the imagination.When we hear of some good qualities in a man, and hold him harmless, we are apt to imagine with pleasure some more.In conclusion, no need to analyze all my thoughts.However, Sundays have become my special happy day these days (now that I'm used to sitting in the back corner of the car) because I love hearing his voice and seeing him, even though I know what he looks like Not handsome, not even good-looking, but of course he wasn't ugly either. He is of medium height, but only a little taller, and his face is too square to be called beautiful, but in my opinion, it shows the fortitude of his character.His dark brown hair was not carefully combed into curls like Mr. Hetfield's, but was brushed carelessly to one side, revealing a white, broad forehead.His eyebrows were probably a little protruding, but the eyes shining under those dark eyebrows showed extraordinary strength.His eyes were brown, not too large, and somewhat sunken, but very bright and expressive.His mouth is also very character, showing that he is a man of firm conviction and long thinking.When he smiles—I can't say his smile yet, because I've never seen him smile until now.To be honest, based on my impression of his appearance, I don't think he seems to have such a relaxed expression, and he is not like the person described by the villagers.I had long since formed my opinion of him, and despite hearing Miss Murray lashing out at him, we were convinced that he was a man of strong reason, firm convictions, and fervent religious piety, and thoughtful, rigorous.Then I discovered that, to these good qualities, you must add genuine kindness, generosity, and thoughtfulness and kindness to others.Perhaps because I had not expected all this before, this discovery made me all the more happy.