The Express.
London, England, 1857-04-04 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

ft Life Charlotte Brosst7. By Mn. Gasleee.
To vols. Smith. Elder, and Co.
A sadder hook than this it has never been our lot
to read. It is the desolate record of a brilliant but
desolate carecr—the sternly truthful history of the
life-battle of a woman of genius against the taint of
hereditary disease, the pressure of narrow circum-
stances, and the blight of family sorrows. The fleet
thirty years of Charlotte Brusite's life were spent in
obscure lee for bread—the bitter bread of de-
pende bly bitter to a sensitive nature like
hen • and when at last the world did unexpected
sad ;udden homage to her genius, the acknowledg-
ement came too late—it came when the iron of soli-
tude and sorrow bad eaten deep into her
meal, when the premature death of her
dearest had left her to the brilliant mockery
a fame without sympathy, and the intense solitsds
of a home without companionship. Henceforth we
venture to predict that few figures in the annals of
literature will stand out more clear and distinct than
that of this frail and sensitive woman of genius,
"shy and silent from the long habit of intense soli-
tude." who " while the nations were praising her
far off " still sate conipanionlcas in that dull gray
among the ram-blackened tombstones of
sweet churchyard, with the wild sweeps of bleak
Yorkshire moorland spreading interminably above
and around it. There are some graves over which a
cairn is a fitter monument than a mausoleum.
There is the inspiration of a kindred genius in the
truthfulness with which Mrs. Gulch has
told the story of Charlotte Bronte.
Thoroughl well and artistically has the work
been accomplished; so informing method presides
over the whole ' • the illustrations are selected
with admirable judgment ; there is no feebleness
or redundancy ; every circumstance has a dim*
Marin on the main object of painting. Ago-
wanly and accurately, a real picture of the women
me des wee. The courage of the book is extras-
dimly the defects of the living. are not spared;
b w instance the vices of the living are held up to
the reprobation of the world with a boldness entirely
naval is modern literature. It may be a quo.-
tice indeed whether, in this respect, Mrs. Gaskell
his not transcended the limits of true taste and
diserelies. It should never be forgotten that no
.sided version of any story can be safely trusted,
and that while the writer of a universally reed book
2:17 will be) has all the cultivated world for &e-
-the incriminated person has no corresponding
mane of palliation and defence. This is, however,
net a defect of which in this age we are much dis-
posed to complain. Freedom of speech is not the
evil under which this generation peculiarly, suffers,
sad it ought never to be forgotten that if the indig-
gent exposure of vice is not necessarily a virtue., yet
the tame toleration of it is necessarily the reverse.
Ina powerful opening chapter Mrs. Gaakell draws
with a few bold strokes a vigorous sketch of the
Went Riding county and the IVest Riding people.
She then passes to the early life and character of the
Rev. Cheeks Brenta, the father of Charlotte, and
evidently the parent stock of much that was daring
and eccentric in the genius of the daughter. He was
a self-raised man. His father appears to have been a
small farmer in the south of Ireland, and Charles was
one of ten children. At sixteen he began to
keep school; a little later liccame private tutor in
a gentleman's family, and at flee-and-twenty
entered at St. John's College, Cambridge. After
leaving the University he went at once into York-
shire, and settled as curate at Ilartshead, where, in
1812, he married Miss Branwell, a lady (coin Pen-
zance, then on a visit to a relative in the north. A
family came in rapid succession—Mary, Eliza-
beth, Charlotte (born April 21, Isle), Emily (Ellis
Bell), Anne (Acton Bell), and one son, Patrick Bran-
well. In February, 1E520, Mr. Brontë, with his
delicate wife and young family, removed to Haworth,
the place where he, the sole sun lees of his race, still
dwells,and where his celebrated daughter principally
resided to the day of her death. " There are those
yet alive," says Aire. Gaakell," who remember seven
heavily-leden carts lumbering slowly up the long
atone street, bearing the ' new parson's household
goods to his future abode —a wild place
and a wild population, of which every. one
who would form a right notion of the educational
Influences that acted on Charlotte Brente would do
well to get some adequate picture. The following
are two of the most graphic we can find : the first
by Mrs. Gaskell, and the second by an anonymous
Teeter to a place which the genius of Alias Drente
had then made famous. The village is about four
miles from the populous West Riding town of
Reighley—the point of view in Mn. Gaskell's sketch
it the foot of the ascending road which leads from
the town to the village.
Bight be/as the traveller on this road rid" Haworth 4.
bp; he am ass it for two miles bade he arrives, fur it is
illnelad en the sill eta pretty steep hill, with • back ground
of dua end pm* MOWS, riang and weeping away yet
higher era the isaina, which is built at the very summit of
W ias, maw steed. All round the horleon than is this
sewn lir elt imam ovens hills; the scoop. into which
nip vernainperbee hills beyond, of draw odour
aeon sensed with erg& blest sween—grani, trees tho
Mess oh CAW' sod incehmeee whirl they suggest, or
egyeantre kern the illythey give of Ming mat-up
by sew uswelenimo end e Inwiw, according to the
WA dub' In Olga the egardsOno may boa
The dime smut is ma isso

flee* the re maw wes_il.eledg, vs resolved to sake our
concedeMeteeeth No packed ourselves
blisallig=lraltbs. rid dat lab the gig, and set off about
dna Tr 61814 mil dr day was just suited to the
veratry—wild per gram ot cloud clam-
ing over this sad Mae lad than any of sunshine
meetly .tailing sal reatteg with a dim magical
light upon seses..M. vies, le &nag down into
e lel distarry, of Ara*
le ne
sttili=a—Z et drain winch her
la the Islam The wistry got aids end wader es w
morseshed Hativeth; for the lea her Wier we wears&
abia=seaser et the eery top of a bleb Item the been
Alto et Haworth. The vilheweireet Malt
le tree star deereat Mk I have ewer ems, and the Mena se
se hregity girl, that I should have get set tad wallbed
with W—Of perlidu ink having Ire began tie meted
to asp wee ad et the gewelast. Al Ur bp wee the Inn ,
who in pet'* etre W the dwell; rd the clergyman's
hewn we were told, was at *step tits elarthyard. So
Phthed we mat —a army, &Mr ylese, Menaly
yla rein-bleckened tolabAli•MIII. art else the ex
at Haworth there a on the Moat height • Maher
end Mr. Prootes honer efaa aadderably above the
dutch.
Bach was the place, and each the house, to which
the new parson, on that bleak February morning of
1820, brought his frail wife and his infant children.
The climate of the place and the unhealthiness of
the situation soon did its work. Mrs. Brontd—
described by those who knew her as "a meek, re-
tiringyerion, of great amiability and considerable
talent --sickened and died is Sept., 1821. She tame
Hato this bleak moorland of the north from the
Mildest region of the extreme south-west, and
had within her, no doubt, the seeds of that
fetal malady of which every one of her chil-
dren ultimately perished. A year after her death,
her sister, Miss Bnnvrell, took up her residence'
at the parsonage ; and there, with his sister-in-law,
his six children, and a faithful old Yorkshire nurse,
the widower continued to midc. He had always
been a solitary man ; ho became more so; he ate
alone; he walked alone; he saw no company. His
notions on many points were peculiar. During his
wife's life he had burnt a silk dress she had
last purchased, deeming each indulgence in-
consistent with the hmits of their narrow
swans. He brought up his children with Spartan
hardihood, and on one occasion dung into the
fire a little row of dry shoes which the ear.-
!al aid nurse had prepared for the return of the
Made late from the moors. The children were thrown
lips each other for companionship—they had the
Pea at a dirty good library, and early became de-
lve/NMI et leeks. The intellect of all showed re-
ineettabie presecity. The following proves
et can the *Oar character of ragfathee r and
the surly development et the &Mem :
en Wlzmeldlerea WOO •1117 pIINSs what, am as
the dim* yes 'beet Us yeses et nee, sad tie
CaleyMestiletst fee, OWN( der they law mom than I
dbeeneed, man lo nobs era weak win is
1 Inas' dot id
1.1011.11E11 reds beppeelse to have a meek
••■ 16•••• lOW ei lira had agog boldly dam
side ferrlddle
berg ebb thernipra (dank allenrarde belt=
rwed Ada ma En be mei 'WM ; she
ald =iftd. badew.,i n
re, ilinrs•l•
whe asassids
ed I loyd : "Ramses
1116 , be Wa to reseals Ha." I
Wed Wmlemredmal ebn
dot we IDs bet way af bruin tbe ed.

Isms between the tatslbcb el era end mass ; he aa-
sumsol, -Br easiisessYe damn between Man is
Orb Mks. ' Idm Med Chistnee mint was the lest
leek is Ss world ; she seamed, "The PM" And what
wse Es nest bet ; shs mimed, The Beek el
I dna Mel the ant when was the Mt mist simintiou
for a warm; shs anssnmed, "Time vide wsnll mks bar
rabbet hem wdL" Meg, I Ma tin dimat what WY
the el Me; shesastme4 "By hying It
sot in...mmilen he a sionity." I nis7 not have
Mr man I Ms met, Me so, as
Cluinly7ilmsp sod Ming ingsseden on tap mowey.
The enbthinee, sew ossidly whet I Me AM.
Wire a Itle Intim winneed. they wen in
the habit af writing (Cheelette wee the prinipal
scribe) " drama, tales:Fear roanneue.• That
even set up • 11S. , white that dulled
the Little Magazine. following extract, written
by Charlotte to her 14th year, is curious, both as
Ting an account of the pursuits of these singular
cbi{dnn,and as evidence of the early habit they
had Aimed of committing their thoughts to writing :

VII HIITOIT 171 Till TRAIL-1829.

Out• Tape teat ay Jar Maria a book. It wee an old
MgraPMel • she wrote oa bra INA " Paps lent me
e1k.117" Tile beet le • boded awl twenty pew eld;
it is se ibis nomad tribe before in. White 1 webs thief
r Y the Ititsbea of lima Pinery, Haworth; Tabby, the
sansmi, smile ythe breakfast thin p, sad ham, my
sides (Mamas mysibm), is m
we kaselimit
am t doh
es aiak Tabby bp bass far es.
By Is ths pew, keribiag So Gwyn. aad
rutse' Ise gene le Insley. Ann le up *be bee
mean, sad Ime sill* by the adds =Wog Mb he the
kitchen. Heighby Amami Imrs hat mem bows bare.
Peps end 1 an pee In dr annyapr, it Lois
lotrlbywrr a aid atni=;.:ll.lo4vi'
Mr. NVoed,' sled papiner, Me. V.
take tun sad see lases a weet. We take
the Lash hibillipavvr, Iwp, r IY Leas Memory, whirr,
edited by Ilz.Deless. wad hie IMAM, mss-ia-law, sad his
two lawla, Ulna Ned Tan. Wit see the AIM Bra; It i•
• ligh_iey,
is
dolma. M
the mr. Driver Inee an es !ho-
wls ANWspereast primal there
is. nubile le 11r. I=iit.:aeiil.a, 74
yewws ths lat et Ape his •bb me=
I. Magna &Dabney, ib
ariestal. Weeniblearidand=g, a ens of most
estnerdlnwveir, a
"Oar:r.7
aelebintel; Tenn less," Jon, MC
Jab, lebradms," naher, 11111. 71m. en our
thesec yip, list are al
it kept emit. lailfsaad my
beet wen estalload the 1.1 of Dasuabse, 1127; the
others, melt, 10214.
Before the time at which we have now arrived
death had been busy among the children. The two
eldest girls bad fallen victims to the hereditary
malady. accelerated in the case of the eldest by the
unhealthiness of the school at Cowan's Bridge, the
Lowood of " Jane Eyre." This eldest girl (Mans), the
Helen Burns of the story, died soon after leaving
the school, in 1825. Charlotte had been there with
her, and it is a singular proof of the intensity of her
early impressions that the Lowood scenes in "Jane
Eyre" are scarcely exaggerations of what actually
pealed before the observation of this child of nine
years of age. After the sister's death Charlotte went
to Miss M °o'er. school at Hoe Head, where she op-
peen to have spent about the happiest period of her
life, and in the neighbourhood of which she acquired
the local and traditionary knowledge which she
afterwards worked up in " shirley.
After leaving school, the girls for awhile remained
at borne, leading the wort of life described in the fol-
lowing extract :
The three girls sesdle waft Norma towards tlw.`lle-
black" moors, the ••••0111 mom which "..„.....&""1,3
ben sad there • none piney; t/ they bad
Um to go far ensugh, they lonia • walerall,-- Wale Non
ink MI over sews redo inn lt. "but..." Mr: endue
wain intalwages eine* the relep.valere shy of
wank. nen Yee, and was shout ea-
the: been of die very peon They were
twins et Ds Ilenlaraien, • bale whin. Chu-
bb. up any pen sear sin wee lett alone;
but they sever heed bah lid rebnierey, aid &bray,' m-
ined the solitude mil he inn et* moon.

up, and is
thus described :

in the middle of the summer of 1815, a great family plan
wag moot* at the
lg
pawner. The m iicia was to what
trade reimets should Braawdl he wit Re was
now wady alsresie ; it was time se H. wee wry
cheer, so ; prhapa.to be& whh, the gurus
is this rare ismily. The *tin Weft. *dr emu,
er web othse's powers, but they how lies. The lainr,
Ignorer el may tamp he mewl sada* did reed
homer to the peat gifts of his sus; for Branisre Nis*
wen seadgissiwithary brought set tor the awkeedamer
et Ohm. Wider aiskedes was street to his. And *I
peat useplum hriat rob " wale sad * the
the Terkeenimm hers a hem
wath geirl it latesofes rem* I* them*.
*alb dherlisn'ot having Ids away saseemadsd by
the hailed of the Bleck Ban Se say dime rewellisr who
siert happen Is lied solitary or del searkr Iliuser. "De
you weir sum sae Is help you with pis Ise* okt If
you de, TI maimisr Petrick" (so the Akers marl him
nil their of hls . Aced "di the mmesire WINS.
the Wept* el* Nesseals ef the
der
Were of the hay, whirs ries** *mum awl
peat ssuresalheelpswers were the rib of the village.
Of this NM at training no good scold come. The
result, however, was worse this seas the worst fore-
bodings could haft aaticipalled. It is a long and
dreary storv—the saddest episode, perhaps, in the
whole of this sad life drama. Enough to say, that
this lad, so genial and brilliant in 183.1, died in 1848
at the age of seven-and-twenty—after having been
for years a cleaving curse to his family—a degraded
bond•slave to the two poisons of opium and alcohol.
In 11139,after some months of fruitless literary 'spin-
tions and secret correspondence on the chances of lite-
rary success with Wortheleorth and Southey, Charlotte
Bronte, for the first time, went out as a governess.
In this miserable occupation (for such it necessarily
was to a shy, intensely silent, and sensitive being)
she appears to have spent three most unsatisfactory
years. At length she came to the conclusion that a
greater stock of positive knowledge and accomplish-
ment was absolutely indispensable to any chance of
success even in this career, and prevailed on her
father and aunt to allow her and her sister Emily to
reek on the Continent the means of supplying their
deficiencies. In February, 1812, Charlotte and Emily
Bronte entered the pension of Madame Heger, in the
Rue Isabelle, Brussels. This sojourn, which in
Charlotte's ease lasted for two years, supplied the
materials for that most powerful of all her won-
derful fictions, " Villette." The readers of that ex-
traordinary novel will find the greatest interest
in retracing, by Mrs. Gaskell's aid, the real events on
which the novel is founded, or rather of which it is
the narrative and transcript. We must hasten over
the remaining stages of the history. Charlotte re-
turned in 1844 to the lonely parsonage among the
moors. Its solitude was more oppressive than ever.
"There was a time," she writes in 1845, " when
Haworth was • very pleasant place to me; it is not
so now. I feel as if we were all buried here. I
long to travel, to work, to live a life of action." The
brother was mouldering in indolence and de-
bauchery the sisters were earning precarious
bread, in • career for which, with all their genius,
they ware singalarly unfitted. It is no wonder that
they turned again with passionate longing to litera-
ture. The story of their first struggles to find
a publisher for the "Poems of Ellis, Currer
and Acton Bell," has been often told be-
fore, and we shall not repeat it. The poems
had only a moderate success. At length,
in the summer of 1846, "Jane Eyre" was oom-
mewed ; in August, 1847, it was accepted by
Means. Smith and Elder; in October it was pub-
lished, and before another month had elapsed it
had taken supreme pomession of the whole reading
world. The glee/ sone at last in a full tide, but it
came too late. The shattered nerves—the mot bid
timidity, fed by ssl and restraint, had done their
work. Ms power et dajoying popularity was gone
—the uneventlbl dulness of the lame lite had been
exchanged for a rapid sad andi suooession of
deaths. Within eighteen graft ban the publica-
tion of "Jane Eyre " the Imager ant the two sisters
were swept away, and name remslasd in that lonely
moorland parsonage except the solitary old man mid
the world-famons daughter. " Shirley " was pub-
lished in October, 1849 ; "Villette," not till 1853.
The world's applause grew louder and louder; the
mtegrir: the literary more-des-guerre was at en end.
tt was tempted on all sides by all manner
of awes to receive the attentions which cultivated•
tall kinds were eager to render her. But
Sleisald not then recast bee lib, and with • few
Wet isisnras of visits to bee publish= in Lomita
sad Mine sliswhere (whisk now sprit is have
bema admons et pisasard) abs dwelt Newt ender the
Mei& reer et theggghe sasthemmma From
the letter white bas aka* owned us with •
description of the village sad ths bases ws take this
graplue • of the life at Ms Imetes :
prute the dear epsusd, sad la elm •
mostlik by es id amilsmas very IlluffaCar atagsill,
who shah Itimile with as and Om vast to soma Ids inghtsr.
A keg Werra, *ring whish wawa* the all and
inka at splints of Wm Bun" by ifsfmall, the airy'