My Edward and I, then, are happy:  and the more so, because those we most love are happy likewise.  Diana and Mary Rivers are both married:  alternately, once every year, they come to see us, and we go to see them.  Diana’s husband is a captain in the navy, a gallant officer and a good man.  Mary’s is a clergyman, a college friend of her brother’s, and, from his attainments and principles, worthy of the connection.  Both Captain Fitzjames and Mr. Wharton love their wives, and are loved by them.

As to St. John Rivers, he left England:  he went to India.  He entered on the path he had marked for himself; he pursues it still.  A more resolute, indefatigable pioneer never wrought amidst rocks and dangers.  Firm, faithful, and devoted, full of energy, and zeal, and truth, he labours for his race; he clears their painful way to improvement; he hews down like a giant the prejudices of creed and caste that encumber it.  He may be stern; he may be exacting; he may be ambitious yet; but his is the sternness of the warrior Greatheart, who guards his pilgrim convoy from the onslaught of Apollyon.  His is the exaction of the apostle, who speaks but for Christ, when he says —­ “Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow me.”  His is the ambition of the high master-spirit, which aims to fill a place in the first rank of those who are redeemed from the earth —­ who stand without fault before the throne of God, who share the last mighty victories of the Lamb, who are called, and chosen, and faithful.

St. John is unmarried:  he never will marry now.  Himself has hitherto sufficed to the toil, and the toil draws near its close:  his glorious sun hastens to its setting.  The last letter I received from him drew from my eyes human tears, and yet filled my heart with divine joy:  he anticipated his sure reward, his incorruptible crown.  I know that a stranger’s hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord.  And why weep for this?  No fear of death will darken St. John’s last hour:  his mind will be unclouded, his heart will be undaunted, his hope will be sure, his faith steadfast.  His own words are a pledge of this —

“My Master,” he says, “has forewarned me.  Daily He announces more distinctly, —­ ‘Surely I come quickly!’ and hourly I more eagerly respond, —­ ‘Amen; even so come, Lord Jesus!’”

*** End of the project gutenberg EBOOK of Jane Eyre, by Bronte ***

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