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2019-03-10 18:17 |
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Mr. Brocklehurst is not a god: nor is he even a great and admired man: he is little liked here; he never took steps to make himself liked. Had he treated you as an especial favourite, you would have found enemies, declared or covert, all around you; as it is, the greater number would offer you sympathy if they dared. Teachers and pupils may look coldly on you for a day or two, but friendly feelings are concealed in their hearts; and if you persevere in doing well, these feelings will ere long appear so much the more evidently for their temporary suppression. Besides, Jane?she paused.
No. There is this difference between me and deistic philosophers: I believe; and I believe the Gospel. You missed your epithet. I am not a pagan, but a Christian philosopher?a follower of the sect of Jesus. As His disciple I adopt His pure, His merciful, His benignant doctrines. I advocate them: I am sworn to spread them. Won in youth to religion, she has cultivated my original qualities thus:?From the minute germ, natural affection, she has developed the overshadowing tree, philanthropy. From the wild stringy root of human uprightness, she has reared a due sense of the Divine justice. Of the ambition to win power and renown for my wretched self, she has formed the ambition to spread my Master¡¯s kingdom; to achieve victories for the standard of the cross. So much has religion done for me; turning the original materials to the best account; pruning and training nature. But she could not eradicate nature: nor will it be eradicated ¡®till this mortal shall put on immortality.¡¯
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Have you told master that you heard a laugh? she inquired.
But you feel solitude an oppression? The little house there behind you is dark and empty.
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Never mind,?wait a minute: Ad?le is not ready to go to bed yet. My position, Miss Eyre, with my back to the fire, and my face to the room, favours observation. While talking to you, I have also occasionally watched Ad?le (I have my own reasons for thinking her a curious study,?reasons that I may, nay, that I shall, impart to you some day). She pulled out of her box, about ten minutes ago, a little pink silk frock; rapture lit her face as she unfolded it; coquetry runs in her blood, blends with her brains, and seasons the marrow of her bones. ¡®Il faut que je l¡¯essaie!¡¯ cried she, ¡®et ? l¡¯instant m?me!¡¯ and she rushed out of the room. She is now with Sophie, undergoing a robing process: in a few minutes she will re-enter; and I know what I shall see,?a miniature of C?line Varens, as she used to appear on the boards at the rising of?But never mind that. However, my tenderest feelings are about to receive a shock: such is my presentiment; stay now, to see whether it will be realised.
Did she not, then, adopt you of her own accord?
In uttering these words I looked up: he seemed to me a tall gentleman; but then I was very little; his features were large, and they and all the lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim.
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On the hill-top above me sat the rising moon; pale yet as a cloud, but brightening momentarily, she looked over Hay, which, half lost in trees, sent up a blue smoke from its few chimneys: it was yet a mile distant, but in the absolute hush I could hear plainly its thin murmurs of life. My ear, too, felt the flow of currents; in what dales and depths I could not tell: but there were many hills beyond Hay, and doubtless many becks threading their passes. That evening calm betrayed alike the tinkle of the nearest streams, the sough of the most remote.
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Precisely: I see you do. I see genuine contentment in your gait and mien, your eye and face, when you are helping me and pleasing me?working for me, and with me, in, as you characteristically say, ¡®all that is right:¡¯ for if I bid you do what you thought wrong, there would be no light-footed running, no neat-handed alacrity, no lively glance and animated complexion. My friend would then turn to me, quiet and pale, and would say, ¡®No, sir; that is impossible: I cannot do it, because it is wrong;¡¯ and would become immutable as a fixed star. Well, you too have power over me, and may injure me: yet I dare not show you where I am vulnerable, lest, faithful and friendly as you are, you should transfix me at once.
Bessie, you must promise not to scold me any more till I go.
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¡®Da trat hervor Einer, anzusehen wie die Sternen Nacht.¡¯ Good! good! she exclaimed, while her dark and deep eye sparkled. There you have a dim and mighty archangel fitly set before you! The line is worth a hundred pages of fustian. ¡®Ich w?ge die Gedanken in der Schale meines Zornes und die Werke mit dem Gewichte meines Grimms.¡¯ I like it!
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