evidently shying away from what she imagined might lead to too much
conversation on one of her books. She spoke of the oat-cake at Cowan
Bridge (the clap-bread of Westmorland) as being different to the leaven-
raised oat-cake of Yorkshire, and of her childish distaste for it. Some
one present made an allusion to a similar childish dislike in the true
tale of "The terrible knitters o' Dent" given in Southey's "Common-place
Book:" and she smiled faintly, but said that the mere difference in food
was not all: that the food itself was spoilt by the dirty carelessness of
the cook, so that she and her sisters disliked their meals exceedingly;
and she named her relief and gladness when the doctor condemned the meat,
and spoke of having seen him spit it out. These are all the details I
ever heard from her. She so avoided particularizing, that I think Mr.
Carus Wilson's name never passed between us.

I do not doubt the general accuracy of my informants,--of those who have
given, and solemnly repeated, the details that follow,--but it is only
just to Miss Bronte to say that I have stated above pretty nearly all
that I ever heard on the subject from her.

A clergyman, living near Kirby Lonsdale, the Reverend William Carus
Wilson, was the prime mover in the establishment of this school. He was
an energetic man, sparing no labour for the accomplishment of his ends.
He saw that it was an extremely difficult task for clergymen with limited
incomes to provide for the education of their children; and he devised a
scheme, by which a certain sum was raised annually by subscription, to
complete the amount required to furnish a solid and sufficient English
education, for which the parent's payment of 14_l_. a year would not have
been sufficient. Indeed, that made by the parents was considered to be
exclusively appropriated to the expenses of lodging and boarding, and the
education provided for by the subscriptions. Twelve trustees were