Thornfield, and the rain that is the life-force of everything in the heath, is the same precipitation that led her to narrate this passage: "But my night was wretched, my rest broken: the ground was damp . . . towards morning it rained; the whole of the following day was wet." Just like a benevolent God, nature will accept Jane no matter what: "Nature seemed to me benign and good; I thought she loved me, outcast as I was." Praying in the heather on her knees, Jane realizes that God is great: "Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured."Unsurprisingly, given Bront's strongly anti-Church of England stance, Jane realizes at some level that this reliance on God is unsubstantiated: "But next day, Want came to me, pale and bare."Nature and God have protected her from harm, providing meager shelter, warding off bulls and hunters, and giving her enough sustenance in the form of wild berries to keep her alive. It is Jane's "nature," defined above as "vital force, functions, or needs," that drives her out of the heath. In the end, it is towards humanity that she must turn.Nature is an unsatisfactory solution to Jane's travails. It is neither kind nor unkind, just nor unjust. Nature does not care about Jane. She was attracted to the heath because it would not turn her away; it was strong enough to keep her without needing anything in return. But this isn't enough, and Jane is forced to seek sustenance in the town. Here she encounters a different sort of nature: human nature. As the shopkeeper and others coldly turn her away, we discover that human nature is weaker than nature. However, there is one crucial advantage in human nature: it is flexible. It is St. John and his sisters that finally provide the charity Jane so desperately needs. They have bent what is established as human nature to help her.Making this claim raises the issue of the nature of S...
