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'Only the clergymen stayed to exchange a few sentences of admonition or reproof with his haughty parishioner; this duty done, he too departed.

I heard him go as I stood at the half-open door of my own room, to which I had now withdrawn. The house cleared, I shut myself in, fastened the bolt, that none might intrude, and proceeded not to weep, not to mourn, I was yet too calm for that, but-mechanically to take off the wedding dress, and replace it by the stuff gown I had worn yesterday, as I thought for the last time. I then sat down: I felt weak and tired. I leaned my arms on a table, and my head dropped on them, and now I thought: till now I had only heard, seen, moved, followed up and down where I was led or dragged, watched event rush on event, disclosure open beyond disclosure but now, I thought.

The morning had been a quiet morning enough-all except the brief scene with the lunatic. The transaction in the church had not been noisy there was no explosion of passion, no loud altercation, no dispute, no defiance or challenge, no tears, no sobs; a few words had been spoken, a calmly pronounced objection to the marriage made, some stern, short question put by Mr. Rochester; answers, explanations given, evidence adduced; an open admission of the truth had been made by my master, then the living proof had been seen, the intruders were gone, and all was over.

'I was in my own room as usual-just myself, without obvious change: nothing had smitten me, or scathed me, or maimed me; and yet | where was the Jane Eyre of yesterday? where was her life where were her prospects?

Jane Eyre, who had been an ardent, expectant woman-almost a bride-was a cold, solitary girl again her life was pale, her prospects were desolate. A Christmas frost had come at Midsum

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mer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hay-field and corn-field lay a frozen shroud; lanes, which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods which, twelve hours since, waved leafy and fragrant as groves between the tropics, now spread waste, wild and white as pine forests in wintry Norway. My hopes were all dead-struck with a sudden doom, such as in one night fell on all the firstborn in the land of Egypt; I looked on my cherished wishes, yesterday so blooming and glowing they lay stark, chill, living corpses, that could never revive. I looked at my love; that feeling which was my master's--which he had created; it shivered in my heart, like a suffering child in a cold cradle; sickness and anguish had seized it: it could not seek Mr. Rochester's arms-it could not derive warmth from his breast. Oh! never more could it turn to him, for faith was blighted! confidence destroyed! Mr. Rochester was not to me what he had been, for he was not what I thought him. I would not ascribe vice to him; I would not say he had betrayed me: but the attribute of stainless truth was gone from his idea; and from his presence I must go that I perceived well. When-how-whither? I could not yet discern; but he himself I doubted not would

hurry me from Thornfield. Real affection, it seemed, he could not have for me; it had been only fitful passion: that was baulked-he would want me no more. I should fear even to cross his path now; my view must be hateful to him. Oh, how blind had been my eyes! how weak my conduct!

'My eyes were covered and closed; eddying darkness seemed to swim round me, and reflection came in as dark and confused a flow. Self-abandoned, relaxed, and effortless, I seemed to have laid me down in the dried-up bed of a great river; I heard a flood loosened in remote mountains, and felt the torrent come; to rise I had no will, to flee I had no strength. I lay faint, longing to be dead; one idea only throbbed life-like within me-a remembrance of God. It begot an unuttered prayer: these words went wandering up and down in my rayless mind, as something that should be whispered; but no energy was found to express them :-"Be not far from me, for trouble is near: there is none to help.”

I was near; and as I had lifted no petition to heaven to avert it as I had neither joined my hands, nor bent my knees, nor moved my lips— it came in full heavy swing the torrent passed over me. The whole consciousness of my life lorn, my love lost, my hope quenched, my faith dead-struck, swayed full and mighty above me in one sullen mass. That bitter hour cannot be described in truth "the waters came into my soul; I sank in deep mire; I felt no standing; came into deep waters; the floods overflowed me." —vol. ii., p. 300.

We have said that this was the picture of a natural heart. This, to our view, is the great and crying mischief of the book. Jane Eyre is throughout the personification of an unregenerate and undisciplined spirit, the more dangerous to exhibit from that prestige of principle and self-control which is liable to dazzle the eye too much for it to observe the inefficient and unsound foundation on which it rests. It is true Jane does right, and exerts great moral strength, but it is the strength of a mere heathen mind which is a law unto itself. No Christian grace is perceptible upon her. She has inherited in fullest measure the worst sin of our fallen nature-the sin of pride. Jane Eyre is proud, and therefore she is ungrateful too. It pleased God to make her an orphan, friendless, and penniless-yet she thanks nobody, and least of all Him, for the food and raiment, the friends, companions, and instructors of her helpless youth-for the care and education vouchsafed to her till she was capable in mind as fitted in years to provide for herself. On the contrary, she looks upon all that has been done for her not only as her undoubted right, but as falling far short of it.

The doctrine of

humility is not more foreign to her mind than it is repudiated by her heart. It is by her own talents, virtues, and courage, that

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she is made to attain the smit of human being written at all, but is poured out rather happiness, and, as far as Jane Eyre's own in the heat and hurry of an instinct, which statement is concerned, no one would think flows ungovernably on to its object, indifthat she owed anything either to God above ferent by what means it reaches it, and or to man below. She flees from Mr. unconscious too. As regards the author's Rochester, and has not a being to turn to. chief object, however, it is a failure-that, Why was this? The excellence of the pre- namely, of making a plain, odd woman, dessent institution at Casterton, which suc- titute of all the conventional features of ceeded that of Cowan Bridge near Kirkby feminine attraction, interesting in our sight. Lonsdale-these being distinctly, as we We deny that he has succeeded in this. hear, the original and the reformed Lo- Jane Eyre, in spite of some grand things woods of the book-is pretty generally about her, is a being totally uncongenial to known. Jane had lived there for eight our feelings from beginning to end. We years with 110 girls and 15 teachers. Why acknowledge her firmness-we respect her had she formed no friendship among them? determination we feel for her struggles; Other orphans have left the same and simi- but, for all that, and setting aside higher lar institutions, furnished with friends for considerations, the impression she leaves life, and puzzled with homes to choose on our mind is that of a decidedly vulgarfrom. How comes it that Jane had ac-minded woman-one whom we should not quired neither? Among that number of care for as an acquaintance, whom we should associates there were surely some excep- not seek as a friend, whom we should not tions to what she so presumptuously stig- desire for a relation, and whom we should matises as 'the society of inferior minds.' scrupulously avoid for a governess. Of course it suited the author's end to represent the heroine as utterly destitute of the common means of assistance, in order to exhibit both her trials and her powers of self-support-the whole book rests on this assumption-but it is one which, under the circumstances, is very unnatural and very unjust.

Altogether the autobiography of Jane 'Eyre is pre-eminently an anti-Christian composition. There is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor, which, as far as each individual is concerned, is a murmuring against God's appointment-there is a proud and perpetual assertion of the rights of man, for which we find no authority either in God's word or in God's providence-there is that pervading tone of ungodly discontent which is at once the most prominent and the most subtle evil which the law and the pulpit, which all civilized society in fact, has at the present day to contend with. We do not hesitate to say that the tone of mind and thought which has overthrown authority and violated every code human and divine abroad, and fostered Chartism and rebellion at home, is the same which has also written Jane Evre.

There seem to have arisen in the novelreading world some doubts as to who really wrote this book; and various rumours, more or less romantic, have been current in Mayfair, the metropolis of gossip, as to the authorship. For example, Jane Eyre is sentimentally assumed to have proceeded from the pen of Mr. Thackeray's governess, whom he had himself chosen as his model of Becky, and who, in mingled love and revenge, personified him in return as Mr. Rochester. In this case, it is evident that the author of Vanity Fair,' whose own pencil makes him grey-haired, has had the best of it, though his children may have had the worst, having, at all events, succeeded in hitting that vulnerable point in the Becky bosom, which it is our firm belief no man born of woman, from her Soho to her Ostend days, had ever so much as grazed. To this ingenious rumour the coincidence of the second edition of Jane Eyre being dedicated to Mr. Thackeray has probably given rise. For our parts, we see no great interest in the question at all. The first edition of Jane Eyre purports to be edited by Currer Bell, one of a trio of brothers, or sisters, or cousins, by names Currer, Acton, and Ellis Bell, already known as the joint-authors of a volume of The second edition the same-de

Still we say again this is a very remark-poems. able book. We are painfully alive to the dicated, however, by the author,' to Mr. moral, religious, and literary deficiencies of Thackeray; and the dedication (itself an the picture, and such passages of beauty indubitable chip of Jane Eyre) signed Curand power as we have quoted cannot re-rer Bell. Author and editor therefore are deem it, but it is impossible not to be spell- one, and we are as much satisfied to accept bound with the freedom of the touch. It this double individual under the name of would be mere hackneyed courtesy to call' Currer Bell,' as under any other, more or it 'fine writing.' It bears no impress of less euphonious. Whoever it be, it is a per

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son who, with great mental powers, combines a total ignorance of the habits of society, a great coarseness of taste, and a heathenish doctrine of religion. And as these characteristics appear more or less in the writings of all three, Currer, Acton, and Ellis alike, for their poems differ less in degree of power than in kind, we are ready to accept the fact of their identity or of their relationship with equal satisfaction. At all events there can be no interest attached to the writer of Wuthering Heights 'a novel succeeding 'Jane Eyre,' and purporting to be written by Ellis Bell-unless it were for the sake of more individual reprobation. For though there is a decided family likeness between the two, yet the aspect of the Jane and Rochester animals in their native state, as Catherine and Heathfield, is too odiously and abominably pagan to be palatable even to the most vitiated class of English readers. With all the unscrupulousness of the French school of novels it combines that repulsive vulgarity in the choice of its vice which supplies its own antidote. The question of authorship, therefore, can deserve a moment's curiosity only as far as Jane Eyre' is concerned, and though we cannot pronounce that it appertains to a real Mr. Currer Bell and to no other, yet that it appertains to a man, and not, as many assert, to a woman, we are strongly inclined to affirm. Without entering into the question whether the power of the writing be above her, or the vulgarity below her, there are, we believe, minutia of circumstantial evidence which at once acquit the feminine hand. No woman-a lady friend, whom we are always happy to consult, assures us-makes mistakes in her own metier-no woman trusses game and garnishes dessert-dishes with the same hands, or talks of so doing in the same breath. Above all, no woman attires another in such fancy dresses as Jane's ladies assume-Miss Ingram coming down, irresistible, 'in a morning robe of sky-blue crape, a gauze azure scarf twisted in her hair!! No lady, we understand, when suddenly roused in the night, would think of hurrying on a frock.' They have garments more convenient for such occasions, and more becoming too. This evidence seems incontrovertible. Even granting that these incongruities were purposely assumed, for the sake of disguising the female pen, there is nothing gained; for if we ascribe the book to a woman at all, we have no alternative but to ascribe it to one who has, for some sufficient reason, long forfeited the society of her own sex.

And if by no woman, it is certainly also by

no artist.

The Thackeray eye has had no part there. There is not more disparity between the art of drawing Jane assumes and her evident total ignorance of its first principles, than between the report she gives of her own character and the conclusions we form for ourselves. Not but what, in another sense, the author may be classed as an artist of very high grade. Let him describe the simplest things in nature-a rainy landscape, a cloudy sky, or a bare moorside, and he shows the hand of a master; but the moment he talks of the art itself, it is obvious that he is a complete ignoramus.

We cannot help feeling that this work must be far from beneficial to that class of ladies whose cause it affects to advocate. Jane Eyre is not precisely the mouthpiece one would select to plead the cause of governesses, and it is therefore the greater pity that she has chosen it for there is none we are convinced which, at the present time, more deserves and demands an earnest and judicious befriending. If these times puzzle us how to meet the claims and wants of the lower classes of our dependants, they puzzle and shame us too in the case of that highest dependant of all, the governesswho is not only entitled to our gratitude and respect by her position, but, in nine cases out of ten, by the circumstances which reduced her to it. For the case of the governess is so much the harder than that of any other class of the community, in that they are not only quite as liable to all the vicissitudes of life, but are absolutely supplied by them. There may be, and are, exceptions to the rule, but the real definition of a governess, in the English sense, is a being who is our equal in birth, manners, and education, but our inferior in worldly wealth. Take a lady, in every meaning of the word, born and bred, and let her father pass through the gazette, and she wants nothing more to suit our highest beau ideal of a guide and instructress to our children. We need the imprudencies, extravagancies, mistakes, or crimes of a certain number of fathers, to sow that seed from which we reap the harvest of governesses. There is no other class of labourers for hire who are thus systematically supplied by the misfortunes of our fellow-creatures. There is no other class which so cruelly requires its members to be in birth, mind, and manners, above their station, in order to fit them for their station. From this peculiarity in their very qualifications for office result all the peculiar and most painful anomalies of their professional existence. The line which severs the governess from her

employers is not one which will take care to this statement-that there are many govof itself, as in the case of a servant. If she ernesses who are treated with an almost sits at table she does not shock you-if she undue equality and kindness-that there are opens her mouth she does not distress you- many who suffer from slights which they her appearance and manners are likely to be entirely make for themselves, and affect a as good as your own-her education rather humility which is never needed-and also better; there is nothing upon the face of the that there is no class in which there are thing to stamp her as having been called to women so encroaching, so exigeantes, and a different state of life from that in which it so disagreeable. But still these are excephas pleased God to place you; and there- tions, let them be ever so numerous. The fore the distinction has to be kept up by a broad and real characteristics of the goverfictitious barrier which presses with cruel ness's qualifications, position, and trials are weight upon the mental strength or consti- such as we have described, and must be tutional vanity of a woman. People talk of such. Nor have we brought them forward the prevailing vanity of governesses, and with any view, or hope, or even with any we grant it in one sense fully-but how wish to see them remedied, for in the inheshould it not be so? If a governess have rent constitution of English habits, feelings, a grain of vanity in her composition, it is and prejudices, there is no possibility that sought and probed for by every species of they should be. We say English, for forslight and mortification, intentional or not, eign life is far more favourable to a govertill it starts into unnatural life beneath the ness's happiness. In its less stringent doirritation. She must be a saint, or no wo-mestic habits, the company of a teacher, for man at all, who can rise above those perpe- she is nothing more abroad, is no interruptual little dropping-water trials to which the tion--often an acquisition; she herself, self-love of an averagely-placed governess again, is pleased with that mere surface of is exposed. That fearful fact that the luna- politeness and attention which would not tic asylums of this country are supplied with satisfy an Englishwoman's heart or pride; a larger proportion of their inmates from the the difference of birth, too, is more obvious, ranks of young governesses than from any from the non-existence in any other country other class of life, is a sufficient proof how of an untitled aristocracy like our own. But seldom she can. But it is not her vanity all this cannot be altered with us. We which sends her there, but her wounded shall ever prefer to place those immediately vanity-the distinction is great-and wound- about our children who have been born and ed vanity, as all medical men will tell us, is bred with somewhat of the same refinement the rock on which most minds go to pieces. as ourselves. We must ever keep them in Man cannot live by the head alone, far a sort of isolation, for it is the only means less woman. A governess has no equals, for maintaining that distance which the reand therefore can have no sympathy. She serve of English manners and the decorum is a burden and restraint in society, as all of English families exact. That true jusmust be who are placed ostensibly at the tice and delicacy in the employer which same table and yet are forbidden to help would make a sunshine even in a barren themselves or to be helped to the same schoolroom must ever be too rare to be deviands. She is a bore to almost any gen-pended upon. That familiarity which should tleman, as a tabooed woman, to whom he is interdicted from granting the usual privileges of the sex, and yet who is perpetually crossing his path. She is a bore to most ladies by the same rule, and a reproach too--for her dull, fagging, bread-and-water life is perpetually putting their pampered listlessbess to shame. The servants invariably detest her, for she is a dependant like themselves, and yet, for all that, as much their superior in other respects as the family they both serve. Her pupils may love her, and she may take the deepest interest in them, but they cannot be her friends. She must, to all intents and purposes, live alone, or she transgresses that invisible but rigid line which alone establishes the distance between herself and her employers.

We do not deny that there are exceptions

level all distinction a right-thinking governess would scorn to accept ;-all this must be continued as it is. But there is one thing, the absence of which need not be added to the other drawbacks of her lot; which would go far to compensate to her for the misfortunes which reduced her to this mode of life, and for the trials attendant upon it-for the years of chilly solitude through which the heart is kept shivering upon a diet that can never sufficiently warm it, and that in the longing season of youthfor the nothing less than maternal cares and solicitudes for which she reaps no maternal reward-for a life spent in harness from morning till night, and from one year's end to another-for the old age and incapacity creeping on and threatening to deprive her even of that mode of existence which habit

has made endurable-there is something that [ question is in truth whether they have the would compensate for all this, and that is means or the excuse to keep a governess at better pay. We quite agree with Mr. Ro- all? Whether it be conscientiously honest chester, in answer to one of Jane's senten- to engage the best years of a hard-working, tious speeches, that most freeborn things penniless woman, without the power of will submit to anything for a salary;' in making her an adequate return? The fineother words, that most men and women of ladyism of the day has, we regret to observe, average sense will put up with much that is crept into a lower class than that one was fatiguing to do, or irksome to bear, if you wont to associate it with, and where, from make it worth their while; and we know of its greater sacrifice of the comforts and no process of reasoning by which it can be rights of others, it is still more objectionable. proved that governesses, as is too often re- Women, whose husbands leave them in quired from them, can dispense with this peace from morning till night, for countingpotent stimulus. houses or lawyers' offices-certainly leave them with nothing better to do than to educate and attend to their children-must now, forsooth, be keeping ill-paid governesses for those duties which one would hope a peeress only unwillingly relinquishes. Women, from whom society requires nothing but that they should quietly and unremittingly do that for which their station offers them the happy leisure, must now treat themselves to one of those pro-mammas who, owing to various causes, more or less distressing, have become so plentiful that they may be had cheap! If more governesses find a penurious maintenance by these means, more mothers are encouraged to neglect those duties, which, one would have thought, they would have been as jealous of as of that first duty of all that infancy requires from them. It is evident, too, that by this unfair demand the supply has been suddenly increased. Farmers and tradespeople are now educating their daughters for governesses as a mode of advancing them a step in life, and thus a number of underbred young women have crept into the profession who have brought down the value of salaries and interfered with the rights of those whose birth and misfortunes leave them no other refuge.

There is something positively usurious in the manner with which the misfortunes of the individual or the general difficulty of the times is now-a-days constantly taken advantage of to cut the stipend of the governess down to the lowest ratio that she will accept. The Jew raises his rate of interest because the heedless spendthrift will pay anything to get that loan he needs; and by the same rule the Christian parent lowers the salary because the friendless orphan will take anything rather than be without a situation. Each traffics with the necessities, and not with the merits of the case; but the one proceeding is so much the harder than the other, because it presses not upon a selfish, thoughtless, extravagant man, but upon a poor, patient, and industrious woman. And they are very glad to get that, I can tell you,' is the cold-hearted rejoinder, if you expostulate on the injustice of throwing all the labour of the teacher and many of the chief duties of a parent upon the shoulders of a young woman, for the remuneration of thirty or even twenty pounds a-year. It may be quite true that she is glad to get even this; and if so, it is very deplorable: but this has no relation to the services exacted and the assistance given; and these should be more especially the standard Even in the highest rate of salary—in the where the plaintiff, as in the case of the go-hundred, and hundred and twenty guineas, verness, possesses no means of resistance. which so few now enjoy-so very few get Workmen may rebel, and tradesmen may beyond-the advantage is too much on the combine, not to let you have their labour or one side not to be, in some respects, an intheir wares under a certain rate; but the justice to the other There has been no governess has no refuge-no escape; she is luxury invented in social life equal to that a needy lady, whose services are of far too which gives a mother all the pleasure of her precious a kind to have any stated market children's society, and the reward of their value, and is therefore left to the mercy, or improvement, and at the same time relieves what they call the means, of the family that her of the trouble of either. At the highest engages her. salary, it is the cheapest luxury that can be had; and yet a mother satisfies her conscience when she gives the patient drudge, who not only retails to her children every accomplishment and science of the day, but also performs the part of maternal factotum in every other department, the notable sum of 401. or 501. a-year; and then, when she

But is not this an all-sufficient plea? it may be urged. If parents have not the means to give higher salaries, what can they do? We admit the argument, though it might be easily proved how often the cheap governess and the expensive servant are to be found in the same establishment; but the

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