no other children. They knew no other modes of thought than what were
suggested to them by the fragments of clerical conversation which they
overheard in the parlour, or the subjects of village and local interest
which they heard discussed in the kitchen. Each had their own strong
characteristic flavour.

They took a vivid interest in the public characters, and the local and
foreign politics discussed in the newspapers. Long before Maria Brontë
died, at the age of eleven, her father used to say he would converse
with her on any of the leading topics of the day with as much freedom
and pleasure as with any grown-up person. . . .

Miss Branwell instructed the children at regular hours in all she could
teach, making her bed-chamber into their schoolroom. Their father was
in the habit of relating to them any public news in which he felt an
interest; and from the opinions of his strong and independent mind they
would gather much food for thought; but I do not know whether he gave
them any direct instruction. Charlotte's deep, thoughtful spirit
appears to have felt almost painfully the tender responsibility which
rested upon her with reference to her remaining sisters. She was only
eighteen months older than Emily; but Emily and Anne were simply
companions and playmates, while Charlotte was motherly friend and
guardian to both; and this loving assumption of duties beyond her years
made her feel considerably older than she really was.

I have had a curious packet confided to me, containing an immense
amount of manuscript, in an inconceivably small space; tales, dramas,
poems, romances, written principally by Charlotte, in a hand which is
almost impossible to decipher without the aid of a magnifying
glass. . . .