s helmet, which he was allowed to place on his head. Hugh
admitted that he could not have worn the helmet or wielded the sword,
but he maintained at the same time that he "could have eaten half a
dozen of the men he saw in England"--in fact, taken them like a dish
of whitebait.

When Hugh Bronte had exhausted the wonders of Yorkshire, to which the
vicar looked for moral effect, he started on his mission to London. A
full and complete account of his search for the reviewer would be most
interesting, though somewhat ludicrous, but the reader must be content
with the scrappy information at my disposal.

Through an introduction from a friend of Branwell's he found cheap
lodgings with a working family from Haworth. As soon as Hugh had got
fairly settled, he went direct to John Murray's publishing house and
asked to see the reviewer. He declared himself an uncle of Currer
Bell, and said he wished to give the reviewer some specific
information.

He had a short interview at Murray's with a man who said he was the
editor of "The Quarterly," and who may have been Lockhart, but Hugh
told him that he could only communicate to the reviewer his secret
message.

He continued to visit Murray's under a promise of seeing the reviewer,
but he always saw the same man who at first had said that he was
editor, but afterwards assured him he was the reviewer, and pressed
him greatly to say who Currer Bell was.

Hugh declined to make any statement except into the ear of the
reviewer; but as the truculent character of the avenger was probably
very apparent, his direct and bold move did not succeed, and at last
they ceased to admit him at Murray's.

Having failed there, he went to the publishers of "Jane Eyre," and
told them plainly he was the author's uncle, and that he had come to
London to chastise the "Quarterly Review" critic. They treated him
civilly without furthering his quest, but he got from them, I believe,
an introduction to the reading-room of the British Museum, and to some
other reading-rooms.

In the reading-room he was greatly disgusted to find how little
interest was taken in the matter that absorbed his whole attention. He
met, however, one kind old gentleman in the British Museum who
thoroughly sympathized with him, and took him home with him several
times. On one occasion he invited a number of people to meet him at
dinner. The house had signs of wealth such as he had never before
seen or dreamt of. Everybody was ki