I answered him by assuming it: to refuse would，I felt，have been unwise.

"Now，my little friend，while the sun drinks the dew- while all the flowers in this old garden awake and expand，and the birds fetch their young ones" breakfast out of the Thornfield，and the early bees do their first spell of work- I"ll put a case to you，which you must endeavour to suppose your own: but first，look at me，and tell me you are at ease，and not fearing that I err in detaining you，or that you err in staying."

"No，sir; I am content."

"Well then，Jane，call to aid your fancy:- suppose you were no longer a girl well reared and disciplined，but a wild boy indulged from childhood upwards; imagine yourself in a remote foreign land; conceive that you there mit a capital error，no matter of what nature or from what motives，but one whose consequences must follow you through life and taint all your existence. Mind，I don"t say a crime; I am not speaking of shedding of blood or any other guilty act，which might make the perpetrator amenable to the law: my word is error. The results of what you have done bee in time to you utterly insupportable; you take measures to obtain relief: unusual measures，but neither unlawful nor culpable. Still you are miserable; for hope has quitted you on the very confines of life: your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse，which you feel will not leave it till the time of setting. Bitter and base associations have bee the sole food of your memory: you wander here and there，seeking rest in exile: happiness in pleasure- I mean in heartless，sensual pleasure- such as dulls intellect and blights feeling. Heart-weary and soul-withered，you e home after years of voluntary banishment: you make a new acquaintance- how or where no matter: you find in this stranger much of the good and bright qualities which you have sought for twenty years，and never before encountered; and they are all fresh，healthy，without soil and without taint. Such society revives，regenerates: you feel better days e back-higher wishes，purer feelings; you desire to remence your life，and to spend what remains to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being. To attain this end，are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom-a mere conventional impediment which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your judgment approves?"

He paused for an answer: and what was I to say? Oh，for some good spirit to suggest a judicious and satisfactory response! Vain aspiration! The west wind whispered in the ivy round me; but no gentle Ariel borrowed its breath as a medium of speech: the birds sang in the tree-tops; but their song，however sweet，was inarticulate.