little fingers. I preferred utter loneliness to the constant at- tendance of servants; but Jane's soft ministry will be a per- petual joy. Jane suits me ; do I suit her?'
To the finest fibre of my nature, sir.' . . . Reverently lifting his hat from his brow, and bending his sightless eyes to the earth, he stood in mute devotion. Only the last words of the worship were audible.
'I thank my Maker that in the midst of judgment He has remembered mercy. I humbly entreat my Redeemer to give me strength to lead henceforth a purer life than I have done hitherto.'
Then he stretched out his hand to be led. I took that dear hand, held it a moment to my lips, then let it pass round my shoulder ; being so much lower of stature than he, 1 served both for his prop and guide. We entered the wood and wended homeward.
What feeling, and what truth ! a truth all Charlotte's own, not Jane Austen's nor another's in which we may, if we will, detect the fusion of two races, the mingling of two worlds.
IV
As to the outer and material history of 'Jane Eyre,' it is written to some extent in Mrs. Gaskell's 'Life,' and has em- ployed the pens of many a critic and local antiquary since. We all know that Lowood is Cowan Bridge, that Helen Burns stands for Maria Bronte, that ' Miss Temple ' and ' Miss Scatcherd ' were drawn from real people ; we are told that Thornfield Hall was suggested by one old Yorkshire house, and Ferndean Manor by another; that St. John Rivers had an original : we may take for granted that Char- lotte's own experiences as a governess have passed into the bitterness with which the rich and 'society' are described; and Mrs. Gaskell has recorded that, according to Charlotte's, own testimony, the incident of the midnight voice heard by Rochester and Jane was ' true ' and ' really happened.'
