Agnes Grey

“I only wished […] instead of lamenting past calamities we might all cheerfully set to work to remedy them; and the greater the difficulties, the harder our present privations, the greater should be our cheerfulness to endure the latter, and our vigour to contend against the former.”

Agnes’s response when their family is left impoverished by a failed investment shows that she already adheres, even when young, to the values of fortitude, industry, cheerfulness, and perseverance that form the novel’s moral backbone. This touch of romanticism in imagining her family coming together in adversity is a quality of young Agnes; she turns wiser and more practical as she comes of age in the course of the novel.

“As we were toiling up, I looked back again; there was the village spire, and the old grey parsonage beyond it, basking in a slanting beam of sunshine—it was but a sickly ray, but the village and surrounding hills were all in sombre shade, and I hailed the wandering beam as a propitious omen […] With clasped hands I fervently implored a blessing on its inhabitants, and hastily turned away; for I saw the sunshine was departing; and I carefully avoided another glance, lest I should see it in gloomy shadow, like the rest of the landscape.”

Agnes’s last image of her home, the village parsonage, as she leaves for her first governess position exemplifies how Brontë uses landscape and weather to set a mood and foreshadow events. The individual’s closeness to and ability to be impacted by weather and natural features is a prevalent theme in Romantic literature, with which Brontë would have been familiar, though she leans toward domestic realism in her own book.

“My task of instruction and surveillance, instead of becoming easier as my charges and I got better accustomed to each other, became more arduous as their characters unfolded. The name of governess, I soon found, was a mere mockery as applied to me: my pupils had no more notion of obedience than a wild, unbroken colt.”

Agnes’s challenges with the Bloomfield children and their extreme obstinacy opened many readers’ eyes to the difficulties of the governess’s position. Struggling to teach her charges her standards of moral behavior forms the chief conflict for Agnes in the first half of the book. Through Agnes’s struggles with the Bloomfield children, Brontë comments on the importance of parental example and control, especially on the mother’s part, in forming a child’s character, habits, and beliefs.

“I can conceive few situations more harassing than that wherein, however you may long for success, however you may labour to fulfil your duty, your efforts are baffled and set at nought by those beneath you, and unjustly censured and misjudged by those above.”

Agnes’s trials educate her as a character but also reinforce the strong moral framework on which she prides herself. For readers, Agnes illuminates the real-life dilemma of the governess: She lacks real authority with charges, parents, and other servants but is held accountable for any failures in the children, even if she finds her own influence has little effect in light of more powerful familial examples.

“Unshaken firmness, devoted diligence, unwearied perseverance, unceasing care, were the very qualifications on which I had secretly prided myself; and by which I had hoped in time to overcome all difficulties, and obtain success at last. I wished to say something in my own justification: but in attempting to speak, I felt my voice falter; and rather than testify any emotion, or suffer the tears to overflow that were already gathering in my eyes, I chose to keep silence, and bear all like a self-convicted culprit.”

Agnes is humiliated when, upon releasing her as the children’s governess, Mrs. Bloomfield suggests that she did not work hard enough. Agnes’s efforts exemplify the Christian virtues and middle-class values that formed an important part of the Victorian ideal. However, her muteness about her own suffering, inability to speak up for or defend herself, and tendency to self-sacrifice, which the book lauds as admirable feminine qualities, came to be seen as restrictive and even damaging to women’s well-being in later periods.

“I was the only person in the house who steadily professed good principles, habitually spoke the truth, and generally endeavoured to make inclination bow to duty: and this I say, not, of course, in commendation of myself, but to show the unfortunate state of the family to which my services were, for the present, devoted.”

Agnes finds that the Murrays, a squire’s family, hold a far different set of values than she does. Through Agnes, Brontë presents middle-class, Christian virtues as far superior to the interests in entertainment, recreation, appearance, and wealth that the Murrays prefer. Agnes and Brontë imply that self-sacrifice and struggle are ennobling, while self-indulgence is vain and damaging.

“Master Charles was […] a pettish, cowardly, capricious, selfish little fellow, only active in doing mischief, and only clever in inventing falsehoods: not simply to hide his faults, but, in mere malicious wantonness, to bring odium upon others. In fact, Master Charles was a very great nuisance to me: it was a trial of patience to live with him peaceably; to watch over him was worse; and to teach him, or pretend to teach him, was inconceivable.”

In describing the character of the coddled Charles Murray, Brontë continues the novel’s theme that deficiencies in parental oversight and education lead to defects in a child’s manners and morality. For Agnes, a clear notion of right and wrong are the most important elements that a true education should cultivate, along with the qualities of truth-telling, consideration toward others, and control over one’s speech, thoughts, and behavior. Biographical descriptions of Anne Brontë indicate that these were strong aspects of her personality, so it is not surprising that she endowed her heroine with these same preferences.

“I sometimes felt myself degraded by the life I led and shamed of submitting to so many indignities, and sometimes I thought myself a fool for caring so much about them, and feared I must be sadly wanting in Christian humility.”

Agnes’s reflections on her struggles in teaching the Bloomfields and the Murrays show that she does have a hint of pride, or self-preservation, in addition to her self-sacrificing tendencies. Her values, as shown here, are grounded in Victorian Middle-Class Morality. Agnes hints at the importance of self-examination, as well as self-mastery in holding oneself to high standards, but she also hints at the power of associates to influence one’s thoughts and manners—a theme that will emerge when Agnes falls in love with Mr. Weston.

“I should like to enjoy myself thoroughly, and coquet with all the world, till I am on the verge of being called an old maid; and then, to escape the infamy of that, after having made ten thousand conquests, to break all their hearts save one, by marrying some high-born, rich, indulgent husband, whom, on the other hand, fifty ladies were dying to have.”

Rosalie’s light-hearted announcement to Agnes after her first ball outlines Rosalie’s vain, self-indulgent personality and her view of courtship as entertainment. This self-interested approach is a precise contrast to the ideas of Companionate Marriage and Romantic Love that Agnes holds and that Brontë, through Agnes’s example, portrays as leading to happiness.

“I did hear him preach, and was decidedly pleased with the evangelical truth of his doctrine, as well as the earnest simplicity of his manner, and the clearness and force of his style. It was truly refreshing to hear such a sermon, after being so long accustomed to the dry, prosy discourses of the former curate, and the still less edifying harangues of the rector.”

Agnes’s assessment of Mr. Weston’s sermon is in line with her upbringing as a clergyman’s daughter, showing that she has held to her own morals despite her environment. Agnes is first drawn to Mr. Weston for the sincerity of his doctrinal beliefs and his reverence for Christian service. Brontë shows this as a sound basis upon which attraction can develop.

“They never, in thought, exchanged places with them; and, consequently, had no consideration for their feelings, regarding them as an order of beings entirely different from themselves.”

Agnes notes that the Murray girls’ behavior toward their father’s tenants—whom they regard as below them in class—is condescending, thoughtless, and rude. In contrast, Agnes’s habits of kindness toward cottagers like Nancy Brown prove her moral character is superior. Kindness toward all of God’s creation is a moralizing symbol throughout the book, and Brontë uses this quality to distinguish which characters are morally admirable and thus examples to the reader.

“But if you cannot feel positive affection for those who do not care for you, you can at least try to do to them as you would they should do unto you: you can endeavour to pity their failings and excuse their offences, and to do all the good you can to those about you.”

Nancy relates Mr. Weston’s spiritual advice to her in a time of conflict, which touches on the values that Agnes and the author have established as superior: the Christian virtue of love and charity for others. Agnes also prizes duty and usefulness. Mr. Weston’s accord with these virtues substantiates the book’s emphasis on this moral framework but also shows the reader that Mr. Weston is a compatible match for Agnes and thus a worthy love interest, setting in motion the romance plot of the novel.

“Already, I seemed to feel my intellect deteriorating, my heart petrifying, my soul contracting; and I trembled lest my very moral perceptions should become deadened, my distinctions of right and wrong confounded, and all my better faculties be sunk, at last, beneath the baneful influence of such a mode of life.”

In keeping with the theme of education, Agnes feels the influence of those with whom she associates on her habits, thoughts, and morals. In the Murray household, an environment where the values are so different from hers, Agnes fears she will lose her moral compass. The young woman finding her way through adversity was a popular Victorian trope, but Agnes’s fears also mirror conventional wisdom that one is lowered or elevated—and judged by—one’s associates.

“I could hear the sweet song of the happy lark; then my spirit of misanthropy began to melt away beneath the soft, pure air and genial sunshine; but sad thoughts of early childhood, and yearnings for departed joys, or for a brighter future lot, arose instead.”

This melancholy reflection, taking place in a congenial outdoor setting as Agnes walks with the Murray girls, demonstrates how Brontë, in true Romantic fashion, uses the natural world to set an emotional stage. Agnes’s hopes for a happier future create dramatic tension as Mr. Weston joins her, for the reader already understands her attraction to him.

“It seemed to me, at that moment, as if this were a remarkable instance of his good-nature: an act of kindness which I could not repay, but never should forget: so utterly unaccustomed was I to receive such civilities, so little prepared to expect them from anyone.”

Mr. Weston’s picking the primroses for Agnes is more than a customary gesture of courtship, at least for Agnes. As a governess, she is accustomed to having her wishes and preferences, and sometimes her very presence, ignored. In the face of this dehumanizing and dismissive treatment, Mr. Weston’s attentions are a deliverance. Picking the flowers is a turning point in the romantic plot as the reader guesses that he cares for Agnes too.

“The ties that bind us to life are tougher than you imagine, or than anyone can who has not felt how roughly they may be pulled without breaking. […] The human heart is like india-rubber; a little swells it, but a great deal will not burst it.”

In the same walk where he gathers the primroses, Mr. Weston shares this advice with Agnes on the resilience of the human spirit. His observation underlines the novel’s Christian moral framework, which values fortitude in the face of suffering and trial. More immediately, it eases her loneliness, for she has just expressed her longing for a home and friends. The moment confirms his candidacy as a romantic partner, and his analogy of the human heart as a rubber ball (at this time, rubber came from India and was called India rubber) provides an example of the novel’s infrequent but striking use of figurative language.

“I began this book with the intention of concealing nothing; that those who liked might have the benefit of perusing a fellow creature’s heart; but we have some thoughts that all the angels in heaven are welcome to behold, but not our brother-men.”

The narrator’s coy statement here returns to the device of direct address, which appears throughout the novel, as well as the fiction of a personal history that opened it. In claiming that some things are too personal to share, Agnes maintains a sense of modesty and decorum, admirable feminine qualities in the Victorian era. She also creates suspense as to the precise nature of her feelings and wishes. This was a frequent tactic of the Victorian novel.

“If you would try to amuse Miss Matilda yourself a little more, I think she would not be driven to seek amusement in the companionship of dogs and horses, and grooms, so much as she is; and if you would be a little more cheerful and conversable with Miss Murray, she would not so often go wandering in the fields with a book in her hand.”

Though the novel at this point has moved more to its romance plot, Mrs. Murray’s rebuke to Agnes touches on the ongoing theme of the difficult situation of the governess. Agnes is not responsible for Matilda’s headstrong tendencies or Rosalie’s vanity, but Mrs. Murray suggests it is Agnes’s failure to persuade her charges to behave better. Agnes feels Mrs. Murray could exert herself more to be a good example and guide to her daughters.

“I have omitted to give a detail of his words, from a notion that they would not interest the reader as they did me and not because I have forgotten them. No; I remember them well; for I thought them over and over again in the course of that day and many succeeding ones, I know not how often; and recalled every intonation of his deep, clear voice, every flash of his quick, brown eye, and every gleam of his pleasant, but too transient smile. Such a confession will look very absurd, I fear; but no matter: I have written it: and they that read it will not know the writer.”

The narrator’s control over and shaping of her narrative creates suspense for the reader, hinting at Agnes’s romantic feelings without being overt. This modesty fits with the Victorian feminine ideal, while emotional restraint is a Christian virtue in line with the novel’s moral framework. Customarily, the narrator uses these moments to imply accord between the author and her audience; here, the narrator expresses a hint of defiance, suggesting how powerful her emotions really are.

“If the mind be but well cultivated, and the heart well disposed, no one ever cares for the exterior. So said the teachers of our childhood; and so say we to the children of the present day. All very judicious and proper, no doubt; but are such assertions supported by actual experience?”

In the midst of describing Rosalie’s pursuit of Mr. Weston, Agnes reflects bitterly on the power of physical beauty, which she does not feel she possesses. In all other instances, Agnes has subscribed without question to her moral framework, but here, she questions whether others also see and value one’s interior worth or character. Agnes is aware that her world prizes beauty in women and sees it as a surpassing virtue no matter what moral teachings might say. This is another moment where it feels like Brontë is speaking directly through Agnes—the power of the direct address.

“As well might the humble glow-worm despise that power of giving light without with the roving fly might pass her and repass her a thousand times, and never rest beside her: she might hear her winged darling buzzing over and around her; he vainly seeking her, she longing to be found, but with no power to make her presence known, no voice to call him, no wings to follow his flight;—the fly must seek another mate, the worm must live and die alone.”

When she thinks Rosalie has succeeded in turning Mr. Weston’s head, Agnes philosophizes about women with good and loving hearts who are overlooked. The metaphor of the glowworm (Agnes) and the fly (Mr. Weston) provides a tender expression of how she feels invisible, but it also hints at her frustration that, given Victorian courtship norms, a woman could not make her interest known and had to wait for the man to approach her.

“Though he knew it not, I was more worthy of his love than Rosalie Murray; charming and engaging as she was; for I could appreciate his excellence, which she could not: I would devote my life to the promotion of his happiness; she would destroy his happiness for the momentary gratification of her own vanity.”

The difference between Rosalie’s and Agnes’s approaches to love and marriage comes down to a matter of focus: Rosalie’s wishes are vain and self-absorbed, while Agnes cares for the welfare of her beloved. In terms of Christian morality, love for another is far more ennobling, as Mr. Weston earlier expressed, and which Agnes has always believed. The novel shows that Agnes’s version of romantic love is far more conducive to lasting happiness than that of Rosalie, who ends up bitterly disappointed in her marriage.

“Is not active employment the best remedy for overwhelming sorrow—the surest antidote for despair? It may be a rough comforter: it may seem hard to be harassed with the cares of life when we have no relish for its employments; to be goaded to labour when the heart is ready to break, and the vexed spirit implores for rest only to weep in silence: but is not labour better than the rest we covet?”

Activity in response to crushing sorrow is another heroic Christian virtue, and here, Agnes lauds it in her mother, who seeks employment after her father’s death. Agnes regards her mother’s industry as a virtue of character and a balm for grief without acknowledging the more practical urgency; with her father’s income gone and no savings because of his poor choices, Mrs. Grey needs to find a genteel way to support herself.