"Yes，yes，you are right," said he; "I have plenty of faults of my own: I know it，and I don"t wish to palliate them，I assure you.

God wot I need not be too severe about others; I have a past existence，a series of deeds，a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast，which might well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I started，or rather (for like other defaulters，I like to lay half the blame on ill fortune and adverse circumstances) was thrust on to a wrong tack at the age of one-and-twenty，and have never recovered the right course since: but I might have been very different; I might have been as good as you- wiser- almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind，your clean conscience，your unpolluted memory. Little girl，a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure- an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?"

"How was your memory when you were eighteen，sir?"

"All right then; limpid，salubrious: no gush of bilge water had turned it to fetid puddle. I was your equal at eighteen- quite your equal. Nature meant me to be，on the whole，a good man，Miss Eyre; one of the better kind，and you see I am not so. You would say you don"t see it; at least I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware，by the bye，what you express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then take my word for it,- I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that- not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but，owing，I verily believe，rather to circumstances than to my natural bent，I am a trite monplace sinner，hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder that I avow this to you? Know，that in the course of your future life you will often find yourself elected the involuntary confidant of your acquaintances" secrets: people will instinctively find out，as I have done，that it is not your forte to tell of yourself，but to listen while others talk of themselves; they will feel，too，that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their indiscretion，but with a kind of innate sympathy; not the less forting and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations."

"How do you know?- how can you guess all this，sir?"