than man — perhaps to pass through gradations
of glory, from the pale human soul to brighten to
the seraph! Surely it will never, on the contrary,
be suffered to degenerate from man to fiend?
No; I cannot believe that: I hold another creed:
which no one ever taught me, and which I seldom mention;
but in which I delight, and to which I cling:
for it extends hope to all: it makes Eternity
a rest — a mighty home, not a terror and
an abyss. Besides, with this creed, I can so
clearly distinguish between the criminal and his crime;
I can so sincerely forgive the first while I abhor
the last: with this creed revenge never worries
my heart, degradation never too deeply disgusts me,
injustice never crushes me too low: I live in
calm, looking to the end.”
Helen’s head, always drooping, sank a little
lower as she finished this sentence. I saw by
her look she wished no longer to talk to me, but rather
to converse with her own thoughts. She was not
allowed much time for meditation: a monitor,
a great rough girl, presently came up, exclaiming
in a strong Cumberland accent —
“Helen Burns, if you don’t go and put
your drawer in order, and fold up your work this minute,
I’ll tell Miss Scatcherd to come and look at
it!”
Helen sighed as her reverie fled, and getting up,
obeyed the monitor without reply as without delay.
My first quarter at Lowood seemed an age; and not
the golden age either; it comprised an irksome struggle
with difficulties in habituating myself to new rules
and unwonted tasks. The fear of failure in these
points harassed me worse than the physical hardships
of my lot; though these were no trifles.
During January, February, and part of March, the deep
snows, and, after their melting, the almost impassable
roads, prevented our stirring beyond the garden walls,
except to go to church; but within these limits we
had to pass an hour every day in the open air.
Our clothing was insufficient to protect us from the
severe cold: we had no boots, the snow got into
our shoes and melted there: our ungloved hands
became numbed and covered with chilblains, as were
our feet: I remember well the distracting irritation
I endured from this cause every evening, when my feet
inflamed; and the torture of thrusting the swelled,
raw, and stiff toes into my shoes in the morning.
Then the scanty supply of food was distressing:
with the keen appetites of growing children, we had
scarcely sufficient to keep alive a delicate invalid.
From this deficiency of nourishment resulted an abuse,
which pressed hardly on the younger pupils:
whenever the famished great girls had an opportunity,
they would coax or menace the little ones out of their
portion. Many a time I have shared between two
claimants the precious morsel of brown bread distributed
at tea-time; and after relinquishing to a third half
the contents of my mug of coffee, I have swallowed
the remainder with an accompaniment of secret tears,
forced from me by the exigency of hunger.
