by Jane Austen
32. Both Elizabeth and Darcy have erred, at least partly, in their description of the other. Her description is particularly wrong (however justified her position might be in the argument), for Darcy has neither said he hates everybody, nor does he. He certainly does not hate Elizabeth. Darcy is right that she misunderstands him; where he errs is in thinking her misunderstanding to be a deliberate action or policy of hers, perhaps done in playful provocation—as his smile implies he considers her words to be. In fact, Elizabeth genuinely mistakes his character, in large part because she genuinely dislikes him. That is something he utterly fails to conceive.
33. Miss Bingley's call for music represents her acknowledgement of defeat in her scheme to engage Darcy's attention by asking Elizabeth to join her in her turn about the room, for what resulted from her scheme was a conversation that involved Darcy and Elizabeth almost exclusively, and thus only increased his focus on Elizabeth.
Chapter Twelve
I n consequence of an agreement between the sisters, Elizabeth wrote the next morning to her mother, to beg that the carriage1 might be sent for them in the course of the day. But Mrs. Bennet, who had calculated on her daughters remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday, which would exactly finish Jane's week,2 could not bring herself to receive them with pleasure before. Her answer, therefore, was not propitious, at least not to Elizabeth's wishes, for she was impatient to get home. Mrs. Bennet sent them word that they could not possibly have the carriage before Tuesday; and in her postscript it was added, that if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed them to stay longer, she could spare them very well.—Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved—nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves needlessly long, she urged Jane to borrow Mr. Bingley s carriage immediately, and at length it was settled that their original design of leaving Netherfield that morning should be mentioned, and the request made.
The communication excited many professions of concern; and enough was said of wishing them to stay at least till the following day to work on3 Jane; and till the morrow, their going was deferred. Miss Bingley was then sorry that she had proposed the delay, for her jealousy and dislike of one sister much exceeded her affection for the other.
The master of the house heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her —that she was not enough recovered; but Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right.4
To Mr. Darcy it was welcome intelligence5 —Elizabeth had been at Netherfield long enough. She attracted him more than he liked —and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her, and more teazing6 than usual to himself. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate7 her with the hope of influencing his felicity;8 sensible9 that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight10 in confirming or crushing11 it. Steady to his purpose, he scarcely spoke ten words to her through the whole of Saturday, and though they were at one time left by themselves for half an hour, he adhered most conscientiously to his book, and would not even look at her.
On Sunday, after morning service,12 the separation, so agreeable to almost all, took place. Miss Bingley's civility to Elizabeth increased at last very rapidly, as well as her affection for Jane; and when they parted, after assuring the latter of the pleasure it would always give her to see her either at Longbourn or Netherfield, and embracing her most tenderly, she even shook hands with the former.—Elizabeth took leave of the whole party in the liveliest spirits.
They were not welcomed home very cordially by their mother. Mrs. Bennet wondered at their coming, and thought them very wrong to give so much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. —But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.
They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass13 and human nature; and had some new extracts to admire, and some new observations of thread-bare morality to listen to.14 Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done, and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged,15 and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.
1. the carriage: meaning the Bennets' own carriage, which could come to fetch them.
2. Jane arrived on Tuesday, and it is now Saturday; see chronology, pp. 713.
3. work on: influence, persuade.
4. Jane reveals that there are limits even to her pliability. Significantly, it is not her own welfare but considerations of general good that inspire her to be firm.
5. intelligence: news.
6. teazing: teasing, or irritating.
7. elevate: inspire.
8. influencing his felicity: getting him to marry her, which of course would influence in some way his felicity or happiness. Darcy assumes as a matter of course that she would gladly marry him if she could because of his wealth and station. His assumption has a basis in current social realities, for many if not most women of the time would be eager to marry him solely for those reasons.
9. sensible: conscious, aware.
10. material weight: substantial importance.
11. crushing: the use of this term implies that Darcy believes Elizabeth's affections may be so strong that they require such a severe remedy; this in turn would indicate how much he has misread her character.
12. morning service: church morning service, something everyone would have attended.
13. thorough bass: a type of bass part or line in music. More generally, the study of musical harmony. Mary's studying music in this way is a sign of her pedantry.
14. In other words, trite sayings or messages she is repeating from books.
15. Flogging, and other types of brutal punishment, were common in the army at the time, as is signaled by the subject's simply being mentioned in passing here. Some of the reasons for this are indicated by a statement of the leading British commander of the time, the Duke of Wellington, in which he described his troops as “the very scum of the earth. People talk of their enlisting from their fine military feeling—all stuff—no such thing. Some of our men enlist from having got bastard children—some for minor offences—many more for drink.” The statement is partly a true description, for serving in the ranks of the army was held in such low regard that generally only those who were desperate or in trouble, often with the law, tended to join. This produced a strong criminal atmosphere among the soldiers, one that made it hard to prevent them from misbehavior, such as looting or violence against civilians, without harsh punishments. At the same time, Wellington's words also reveal the aristocratic disdain for the men among the officers, which made them very willing to employ such punishments.
Even with all that, the period did witness increased protest against the use of flogging. Jane Austen's own view of the matter is unknown, but she probably intends at least to show the crassness and shallowness of Lydia and Catherine by having them treat a flogging as merely a choice piece of gossip.
Chapter Thirteen
I hope, my dear” said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, “that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.”
“Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming I am sure, unless Charlotte Lucas should happen to call in, and I hope my dinners are good enough for her. I do not believe she often sees such at home.”
“The person of whom I speak, is a gentleman and a stranger.”
Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled.—“A gentleman and a stranger! It is
Mr. Bingley I am sure. Why Jane—you never dropt a word of this; you sly1 thing! Well, I am sure I shall be extremely glad to see Mr. Bingley. —But—good lord! how unlucky! there is not a bit of fish to be got to-day.2 Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill, this moment.”3
“It is not Mr. Bingley,” said her husband; “it is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life.”
This roused a general astonishment; and he had the pleasure of being eagerly questioned by his wife and five daughters at once.
After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained. “About a month ago I received this letter, and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention.4 It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”5
“Oh! my dear,” cried his wife, “I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it.”
Jane and Elizabeth attempted to explain to her the nature of an entail. They had often attempted it before, but it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason;6 and she continued to rail bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
“It certainly is a most iniquitous affair” said Mr. Bennet, “and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Long-bourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may perhaps be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.”
“No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?”
“Why, indeed, he does seem to have had some filial scruples on that head, as you will hear.”
Hunsford, near Westerham, Kent,7
15th October.
DEAR SIR,
The disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father, always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach; but for some time I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with any one, with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance. —”There, Mrs. Bennet.”—My mind however is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination8 at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh,9 whose bounty and beneficence has preferred10 me to the valuable rectory of this parish,11 where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England. As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish the
blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate, will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch. I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends,—but of this hereafter. If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on12 you and your family, Monday, November 18th, by four o'clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality till the Saturday se'night13 following, which I can do without any inconvenience, as Lady Catherine is far from objecting to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.14 I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,
WILLIAM COLLINS. 15
“At four o'clock, therefore, we may expect this peace-making gentleman” said Mr. Bennet, as he folded up the letter.16 “He seems to be a most conscientious and polite young man, upon my word; and I doubt not will prove a valuable acquaintance, especially if Lady Catherine should be so indulgent as to let him come to us again.”
“There is some sense in what he says about the girls however; and if he is disposed to make them any amends, I shall not be the person to discourage him.”17
“Though it is difficult,” said Jane, “to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due,18 the wish is certainly to his credit.”
Elizabeth was chiefly struck with his extraordinary deference for Lady Catherine, and his kind intention of christening, marrying, and burying his parishioners whenever it were required.19
“He must be an oddity, I think,” said she. “I cannot make him out.—There is something very pompous in his stile.—And what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the entail?—We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could. —Can he be a sensible man, sir?”20
“No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse. There is a mixture of servility and self-importance in his letter, which promises well.211 am impatient to see him.”
“In point of composition,” said Mary, “his letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive branch perhaps is not wholly new,22 yet I think it is well expressed.”
To Catherine and Lydia, neither the letter nor its writer were in any degree interesting. It was next to impossible that their cousin should come in a scarlet coat, and it was now some weeks since they had received pleasure from the society of a man in any other colour. As for their mother, Mr. Collins's letter had done away much of her ill-will, and she was preparing to see him with a degree of composure, which astonished her husband and daughters.23
Mr. Collins was punctual to his time, and was received with great politeness by the whole family. Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy looking young man of five and twenty. His air was grave and stately,24 and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he complimented Mrs. Bennet on having so fine a family of daughters, said he had heard much of their beauty, but that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth; and added, that he did not doubt her seeing them all in due time well disposed of in marriage. This gallantry25 was not much to the taste of some of his hearers, but Mrs. Bennet, who quarrelled with no compliments, answered most readily,
“You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so; for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.”
“You allude perhaps to the entail of this estate.”
“Ah! sir, I do indeed. It is a grievous affair to my poor girls, you must confess. Not that I mean to find fault with you, for such things I know are all chance in this world. There is no knowing how estates will go when once they come to be entailed.”26
“I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, —and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. But I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but perhaps when we are better acquainted”
He was interrupted by a summons to dinner;27 and the girls smiled on each other. They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture28 were examined and praised; and his commendation of every thing would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property.29 The dinner too in its turn was highly admired; and he begged to know to which of his fair cousins, the excell
ence of its cookery was owing. But here he was set right by Mrs. Bennet, who assured him with some asperity that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen.30 He begged pardon for having displeased her. In a softened tone she declared herself not at all offended; but he continued to apologise for about a quarter of an hour.
1. sly: silent, uncommunicative.
2. No fish is to be had because it is Monday. Fish that could be bought would come from the previous day's catch—lack of refrigeration would cause older fish to spoil—and fishermen would not have gone out on Sunday.
3. Hill is the chief servant (who would be summoned by the bell); her status is indicated by her being called by her last name rather than her first name, as lower servants would be called. In clamoring to summon her at this moment, before everyone has finished breakfast, Mrs. Bennet reveals her lack of self-control and of consideration for others.
4. early attention: what Mr. Bennet calls answering a letter at least two weeks after it arrived. This indicates his indolence. He has also told the others of their visitor only on the day of the visitor's arrival, though he has known of it for a month.
5. Mr. Collins is to inherit Mr. Bennet's property, which would include the house. Mr. Collins is thus Mr. Bennet's closest male relative who has a common paternal descent (an entail that cannot pass to a woman also cannot pass through a woman, which means that Mr. Collins's claim cannot derive from a mother or grandmother). Some have therefore wondered why the two men do not have the same last name. The answer is that an ancestor of one of them must have changed his name, a relatively common procedure at the time. This could happen through marriage: a favorite novel of Jane Austen's, Fanny Burney's Cecilia, centers around a legal provision by which the heroine can inherit a large fortune only if any husband of hers takes her venerable family name. It also happened through adoption: Jane Austen's brother Edward (father of Fanny Austen Knight, depicted on cover), who had been adopted by very wealthy cousins, had to change his last name to theirs, Knight, in order to inherit their estate. In Emma an important character, Frank Churchill, has changed his name for the same reason.
