PREFACE

    A preface
           to the first edition of
         "Jane Eyre"
            being unnecessary,
         I gave none:
         this second edition
              demands a few words
                   both of acknowledgment
                       and miscellaneous remark.

    My thanks
        are due in three quarters.

    To the Public,
           for the indulgent ear it
            has inclined
                   to a plain tale
                 with few pretensions.

    To the Press,
           for the fair
               field its honest suffrage
            has opened
                   to an obscure aspirant.

    To my Publishers,
           for the aid their tact,
         their energy,
           their practical sense
               and frank liberality
              have afforded an unknown
                   and unrecommended Author.

    The Press
           and the Public are
         but vague personifications for me,
           and I
            must thank them
                   in vague terms;
        but my Publishers are definite:
           so are certain generous critics
             who have
                  encouraged me as
                      only large-hearted
                           and high-minded men know
             how to encourage
                   a struggling stranger;
        to them,
           i.e.,

    to my Publishers
           and the select Reviewers,
         I say cordially,
         Gentlemen,
           I thank you
               from my heart.

    Having thus acknowledged
         what I owe those
           who have
              aided and approved me,
           I turn to another class;
        a small one,
           so far as I know,
         but not,
           therefore,
         to be overlooked.

    I mean the timorous or
          carping few
         who doubt the tendency of
               such books as
         "Jane Eyre:"
         in whose eyes
             whatever is unusual is wrong;
        whose ears
              detect in
                   each protest against bigotry
          --that parent of crime--an insult
               to piety,
           that regent
               of God on earth.

    I would suggest
        to such doubters certain
            obvious distinctions;
        I would remind
               them of certain simple truths.

    Conventionality is not morality.

    Self-righteousness is not religion.

    To attack the first
        is not
              to assail the last.

    To pluck the mask
           from the face
               of the Pharisee,
           is not
              to lift an impious hand
                   to the Crown of Thorns.

    These things and deeds
        are diametrically opposed:
            they are as distinct as
            is vice from virtue.

    Men too often confound them:
         they should not be confounded:
            appearance should not
              be mistaken for truth;
        narrow human doctrines,
           that only
              tend to elate
                  and magnify a few,
         should not
              be substituted
                for the world-redeeming
                       creed of Christ.

    There is
         --I repeat it--
           a difference;
        and it is a good,
           and not a bad action
              to mark broadly
                   and clearly the line
                       of separation between them.

    The world
        may not like
              to see these ideas dissevered,
           for it
            has been accustomed
                  to blend them;
        finding it convenient
              to make external show
                   pass for sterling worth
          --to let white-washed walls
              vouch for clean shrines.

    It may hate him
         who dares
               to scrutinise and expose
         --to rase the gilding,
            and show base metal
                    under it--
           to penetrate the sepulchre,
         and reveal charnel relics:
         but hate as it will,
           it is indebted to him.

    Ahab did not like Micaiah,
           because he never
              prophesied good concerning him,
         but evil;
        probably he liked
               the sycophant son
                   of Chenaannah better;
        yet might Ahab
              have escaped a bloody death,
           had he
             but stopped his ears
                   to flattery,
         and opened them
               to faithful counsel.

    There is a man
           in our own days
         whose words
            are not
                  framed to tickle delicate ears:
         who,
           to my thinking,
         comes before the great ones
               of society,
           much as the son
               of Imlah came
             before the throned Kings
                   of Judah
                 and Israel;
        and who speaks truth
               as deep,
           with a power
               as prophet-like and as vital
          --a mien
               as dauntless and as daring.

    Is the satirist of
         "Vanity Fair"
            admired in high places?

    I cannot tell;