singularly cold, selfish, animal, and inferior.  They are very mutinous and difficult for the teachers to manage; and their principles are rotten to the core.  We avoid them, which it is not difficult to do, as we have the brand of Protestantism and Anglicism upon us.  People talk of the danger which Protestants expose themselves to in going to reside in Catholic countries, and thereby running the chance of changing their faith.  My advice to all Protestants who are tempted to do anything so besotted as turn Catholics, is, to walk over the sea on to the Continent; to attend mass sedulously for a time; to note well the mummeries thereof; also the idiotic, mercenary aspect of all the priests; and then, if they are still disposed to consider Papistry in any other light than a most feeble, childish piece of humbug, let them turn Papists at once—­that’s all.  I consider Methodism, Quakerism, and the extremes of High and Low Churchism foolish, but Roman Catholicism beats them all.  At the same time, allow me to tell you, that there are some Catholics who are as good as any Christians can be to whom the Bible is a sealed book, and much better than many Protestants.”

When the Brontes first went to Brussels, it was with the intention of remaining there for six months, or until the grandes vacances began in September.  The duties of the school were then suspended for six weeks or two months, and it seemed a desirable period for their return.  But the proposal mentioned in the foregoing letter altered their plans.  Besides, they were happy in the feeling that they were making progress in all the knowledge they had so long been yearning to acquire.  They were happy, too, in possessing friends whose society had been for years congenial to them, and in occasional meetings with these, they could have the inexpressible solace to residents in a foreign country—­and peculiarly such to the Brontes—­of talking over the intelligence received from their respective homes—­referring to past, or planning for future days.  “Mary” and her sister, the bright, dancing, laughing Martha, were parlour-boarders in an establishment just beyond the barriers of Brussels.  Again, the cousins of these friends were resident in the town; and at their house Charlotte and Emily were always welcome, though their overpowering shyness prevented their more valuable qualities from being known, and generally kept them silent.  They spent their weekly holiday with this family, for many months; but at the end of the time, Emily was as impenetrable to friendly advances as at the beginning; while Charlotte was too physically weak (as “Mary” has expressed it) to “gather up her forces” sufficiently to express any difference or opposition of opinion, and had consequently an assenting and deferential manner, strangely at variance with what they knew of her remarkable talents and decided character.  At this house, the T.’s and the Brontes could look forward to meeting each other pretty frequently.  There was another English family where Charlotte soon became a welcome guest, and where, I suspect, she felt herself more at her ease than either at Mrs. Jenkins’, or the friends whom I have first mentioned.