They might be mistaken. They might err in writing at all, when
their affections were so great that they could not write
otherwise than they did of life. It is possible that it would
have been better to have described only good and pleasant people,
doing only good and pleasant things (in which case they could
hardly have written at any time): all I say is, that never, I
believe, did women, possessed of such wonderful gifts, exercise
them with a fuller feeling of responsibility for their use. As to
mistakes, stand now--as authors as well as women--before the
judgment-seat of God.

"Jan. 11th, 1848.

"We have not been very comfortable here at home lately. Branwell
has, by some means, contrived to get more money from the old
quarter, and has led us a sad life. . . . Papa is harassed day
and night; we have little peace, he is always sick; has two or
three times fallen down in fits; what will be the ultimate end,
God knows. But who is without their drawback, their scourge,
their skeleton behind the curtain? It remains only to do one's
best, and endure with patience what God sends."

I suppose that she had read Mr. Lewes' review on "Recent Novels,"
when it appeared in the December of the last year, but I find no
allusion to it till she writes to him on January 12th, 1848.

"Dear Sir,--I thank you then sincerely for your generous review;
and it is with the sense of double content I express my
gratitude, because I am now sure the tribute is not superfluous
or obtrusive. You were not severe on 'Jane Eyre;' you were very