For the middle classes, the years preceding the publication of Jane Eyre were a time of turbulence and change from which the family provided a haven of stability and security. At the centre of the family stood the "Angel at the hearth" - a Madonna-like wife and mother from whom all morality sprang. Not everyone agreed but the conception was supported by mainstream political and religious beliefs, and girls were taught that they should aspire

Despite some social reforms and widespread debate about the role of women, the idea was tenacious. Soon after Jane Eyre was published, while John Stuart Mill wrote of "a principal of perfect equality" for men and women, Mrs Lynne Linton complained that the Girl of the Period was excessively forward and independent, comparing badly with the "simple and genuine girl of the past". Many of the middle classes agreed, but not all, and by the end of the century the Girl of the Period had matured into the "New Woman", a predatory figure who rejected marriage, advocated contraception and wanted independence through paid work. To those like Mrs Linton who supported the status quo this represented a state of anarchy. If society was built upon the family, which in turn depended upon a particular role for woman, to change that role was to threaten the whole structure of society.

Novels and periodicals, widely read at the time, offered a good medium in which to debate the "women's question", since the fate meted to characters could reflect opinions of their behaviour. Social, personal and religious integrity often depended upon the (generally male) choice between female sensuality and morality.

Before meeting Jane, Rochester has faced this dilemma and failed. He admits of Bertha Mason "I was not sure of the existence of one virtue in her nature: I had marked neither modesty, nor benevolence, nor candour, nor refinement in her mind or manners" but he married her because "[his] senses were excited". He recognised too late that Bertha's sensuality, exciting before their marriage, is immoral, but his naiveté and the family pressures he experienced do not absolve him of the responsibility for his choice. His marriage and his subsequent liaisons are ultimately unsatisfactory because they are based on sexual gratification; none of the women offer the stability and morality necessary for true happiness.

Jane initially appears to offer this chance, although she is not a traditional "Angel", as can be seen by a comparison with Jane Austen's Fanny Price. Both are daughters of marriages unsanctioned by their mother's families. Both live with wealthy relatives, outwardly as part of the family, but actually considered inferior to their cousins because of their backgrounds. They are portrayed, however, very differently.

Before Fanny is brought to live at Mansfield Park, Mrs Norris worries that, if pretty, she will tempt Tom or Edmund to marry her. Fanny proves not to be the siren her aunt has feared but her self effacement, timidity and frailty are exactly the qualities Mrs Linton says are required to attract male attention, and Austen does not prove her wrong. From childhood Fanny inspires Edmund to protect and care for her and she grows to provide a moral base from which he can act. That he is wrong to disregard this is illustrated in the incident of the play; Fanny confirms Edmund's inner conviction that it is wrong to take part but he disregards her advice, partly due to his flirtation with Mary Crawford, and has to endure the consequences. When he rejects Mary's sexual allure for Fanny's strong morality, their happy marriage reinforces the rightness of his choice.

Where Fanny from childhood is modest and restrained, Jane struggles with an overly passionate nature, and despite the efforts of Mr Brocklehurst to "render [his pupils] hardy, patient and self denying" becomes a passionate woman. Her patience and submission are not internalised as Fanny's are, but a facade kept in place by acts of self punishment (the portraits of herself and Blanche Ingram) as harsh as any contrived by her aunt or Brocklehurst. When Rochester finally declares his love for her the scene is one of overwhelming emotion and the facade is removed. Mrs Fairfax correctly identifies the sexual tension between them when she advises "Try and keep Mr Rochester at a distance: distrust yourself as well as him" and although Jane achieves this she says "I could not, in those days, see God for his creature of whom I had made an idol".

In allowing her sexual feelings to take precedence over her love for God, Jane has failed to provide the moral centre required for a happy union and secure family life. She realises something of this - the interruption of the marriage service forces her to recognise the inadequacy of passion alone as a basis for happiness and to acknowledge the vital role of society and the Church. She rejects her passion in favour of self respect and leaves Thornfield Hall.

At Moor House the sexual/moral conundrum is explored again through St John's relationship with Rosamond. Rosamond is innocent and childlike, but her effect on St John is clearly a sensual one. He describes her as a temptation, and says "When I colour and when I shake before Miss Oliver I do not pity myself. I scorn the weakness. I know it is ignoble; a mere fever of the flesh". St John recognises the nature of the temptation Rosamond represents, and can see that even her inadvertent sexual allure threatens his commitment to become a missionary, and therefore his moral well being.

He chooses instead to offer marriage to Jane whom he does not love and who he knows does not love him. Superficially this would appear to be an ideal match, offering St John the role of teacher and provider, and Jane an opportunity to absolve her rejection of God in self effacement and obedience. However, Jane has shown in her refurbishment of Moor House and her pleasure in her new found cousins that through her sufferings her passions have matured to a traditional feminine desire for home and family. St John's religious fervour will never allow him to offer this:

His morality comes from his inner convictions and he would usurp Jane's place at the moral centre of the family. He offers great deeds in the world but he would deny her a true woman's role. Now that Jane has fully accepted that role she is free to return to Rochester, who has bowed to her moral guidance by remaining at Thornfield Hall rather than returning to his life of reckless sensuality. His taking responsibility for Bertha in trying to rescue her from the fire at the risk of his own life is both his salvation and his punishment for past transgressions. He is freed of his wife but at the price of his hand and sight, and through them, his pride. Jane and Rochester's second courtship lacks the all consuming passion of the first, it is of the spirit not the senses, and gives due gratitude and humility to God. Their marriage, like Fanny and Edmund's, is dealt with by the author in an understated way, since it serves only to confirm the rightness of their reformed relationship.

While authors reward virtue with marriage, women who do not conform to the ideal tend to be dealt with more summarily. Blanche Ingram, like Mary Crawford, attempts to meet the ideal but fails. Their outward vivacity and good manners are the result of a superficial education designed only to help them to attract husbands. They offer not moral guidance but flirtatious manipulation, and indulge in overly romantic day-dreams of a "wild, fierce bandit hero", elopements and affairs. Without the innate moral strength to fulfil their place at the centre of a home they are unable to make the idealised marriages allotted to Jane and Fanny.

Bertha Mason is a more extreme case, providing the antithesis of the Angel at the hearth and a warning of what Jane might become if she allows her passions too free a rein. She is described as an animal but is more than that; animals are prey to their sexual impulses without fault but Bertha retains enough humanity for her behaviour to inspire horror. Bertha's madness manifests itself as inappropriate sexual behaviour; she is "unchaste . . . gross, impure, depraved". This leads to her being confined out of sight, an embodiment of the treatment meted out to all female sensuality.

Her attacks are physical ones but Bronte links them to a moral threat when Rochester calls her a "demon" and her room "the mouth of Hell". To Jane she is "the foul German spectre - the Vampyre", echoing Mason's cry that "she sucked the blood: she said she'd drain my heart".

This connection between sexuality and morality clearly reflects contemporary concerns about the social threats posed by women's emancipation, and occurs throughout the nineteenth century. Jane Eyre appeared in 1847 but as early as 1814 the risqué elements of Lovers' Vows threatened the peace of Mansfield Park, and in 1897 Bertha Mason was reincarnated in Bram Stoker's horror fantasy Dracula.

During Jonathan Harker's stay at Castle Dracula he awakens to find himself surrounded by three young and beautiful women. The reader is painfully aware that these are vampires whose attentions imperil Harker's soul, but his damnation, like Rochester's is aided by his inability to resist sexual enticements:

Harker is saved by the timely intervention of the Count who, re-enacting Rochester's role when Mason is bitten by Bertha, confines them again to their locked quarters.

Lucy Westenra initially seems an unlikely descendant of Bertha Mason. Frequently described as "sweet", she is quiet, pretty, and well bred, with a good moral education. Three men fall in love with her and propose marriage, and although she must refuse two of them it is done with genuine regret at the necessity of hurting them and none of the flirtation common to Blanche Ingram or Mary Crawford. Lucy is attacked by Dracula whose effect on her appears to be sexual; she is heard tossing and moaning and discovered breathless and flushed. Her inability to resist means that, despite the efforts of her would be rescuers, she is easy prey for Dracula on his return, and dies.

Once Lucy becomes a vampire herself she poses a serious moral threat - the loss of Heaven - but it is portrayed in sexual not religious tones; "the purity [was turned] to voluptuous wantonness". Lucy wears a long white shroud resembling both a wedding dress and an angel's gown and carries a child upon whom she has been preying. She attempts to seduce her fiancé into joining her; and he "under a spell" almost does so. In losing her soul Lucy has become a travesty of wife, mother and Angel, endangering any respectable man falling within her sphere of influence; the archetypal establishment view of the New Woman.

Just as Jane has not knowingly agreed to a bigamous marriage, neither Lucy nor Bertha can avoid their dangerous sexuality. They are still, however seen as morally responsible, since they pose a real temptation and threat to the men around them. Attempts to confine them - Jane in her room after discovering Bertha's existence, Bertha in her den, Lucy in her garlic filled bedroom and tomb - are insufficient to contain the danger. Jane's innate morality forces her to leave and Lucy is saved from eternal damnation by symbolic masculine dominance - a stake through her body - but Bertha dies unredeemed in a sheet of flame reminiscent of Hell.

All the novels I have chosen to look at reinforce the restrictive sexual values aspired to by a small but influential strata of Victorian society. Fanny Price is a positive role model for the patient and self abnegating ideal described by Linton. She suffers emotional mistreatment without complaint and is assertive only when making moral choices in the face of pressure or disapproval from others. In contrast Lucy Westenra is overcome by her own sensuality, which once aroused can only be subdued by gruesome and dramatic measures. Although the vampire is a fictional creation, and the New Woman was unlikely to come to exactly this end, the message is clear - the rejection of a proper woman's role (represented by Lucy's planned marriage to Arthur) is a dangerous undertaking.

Jane Eyre is not so obviously traditional, and Jane, struggling between her love of God and her passionate nature, has the potential to become either a Fanny Price or a Bertha Mason. Jane Eyre has been called a feminist novel, in particular Jane's speech including the words:

but, as R. B. Mason points out, this is not a plea for equality on anything but an emotional level. Jane never questions her limited career choices or her subservient role, and although she believes in self determination she is not New Woman enough to reject conventional morality:

Like St John Rivers, she is not immune to sexual feeling but recognises it for the temptation it is. The reference to sexuality as insanity is a clear link to Bertha Mason but Jane rejects it where Bertha did (or could) not and, shorn of her excessive passions, is awarded a happy, contented and conventional future as Rochester's wife/nurse and the mother of his children.

Though characters like Jane are fictional, the situations they face and the motivations with which they act are given to them by real authors who must be influenced by their own societies. The morality I have identified in these books was a phenomenon of the nineteenth century middle class, not evident in earlier novels like Moll Flanders, nor in later ones such as those by D H Lawrence. However, while it lasted it was extremely powerful and those who, like Hardy, tried to portray an alternative faced widespread condemnation. Eventually the recognition of the hypocrisy within Victorian society and the death in 1901 of the Queen with whom the moral regime had been associated brought about its overthrow. In a sense the threat to Society which the Victorians saw in liberated sexuality was a real one. The sex roles and class distinctions of the nineteenth century no longer exist; society is less structured and more informal. Perhaps this is one reason their recognition of the threat is of such interest to the twentieth century reader.