This, Jane Austen's best-known novel, was written between 1796
and 1797, and was called "First Impressions." Revised in 1811,
it was published two years later by the same Mr. Egerton, of
the Military Library, Whitehall, who had brought out "Sense
and Sensibility." Like its predecessor, and like "Northanger
Abbey," it was written at Steventon Rectory, and it is
generally regarded not only as its author's most popular but
as her most representative achievement. Wickham, the
all-conquering young lady-killer of the story, is a favourite
character of the novelist He figures as Willoughby in "Sense
and Sensibility," as Crawford in "Mansfield Park," as
Churchill in "Emma," and--to a certain extent--as Wentworth in
"Persuasion." Another characteristic feature of "Pride and
Prejudice" is Wickham's unprepared attachment to Lydia Bennet,
resembling as it does Robert Ferrars' startling engagement to
Lucy Steele in "Sense and Sensibility," Frank Churchill's
secret understanding with Jane Fairfax in "Emma," and Captain
Benwick's sudden and unexpected union with Louisa Musgrove in
"Persuasion."
_I.--A Society Ball at Longbourn_
All Longbourn was agape with excitement when it became known that
Netherfield Park, the great place of the neighbourhood, was let to a
rich and handsome young bachelor called Bingley, and that Mr. Bingley
and his party were to attend the forthcoming ball at the Assembly Rooms.
Nowhere did the news create more interest and rouse greater hopes than
in the household of the Bennets, the chief inhabitants of Longbourn; for
Mr. Bennet--who was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour,
reserve and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had
been insufficient to make his wife understand his character--was the
father of five unmarried daughters; while Mrs. Bennet--a still handsome
woman, of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain
temper--made the business of her life getting her daughters married, and
its solace visiting and news.
The evening fixed for the ball came round at last; and when the
Netherfield party entered the Assembly Rooms it was found to consist of
five persons altogether--Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of
the elder, and another young man.
Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentleman-like; he had a pleasant
countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women,
with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely
looked the gentleman; but his friend, Mr. Darcy, soon drew the attention
of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and
the report, which was in general circulation within five minutes after
his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. He was looked at with
great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a
disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was found to be
proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased.
Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal
people in the room. He was lively and unreserved, danced every dance,
was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one
himself at Netherfield. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr.
Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst, and once with Miss Bingley, and
declined being introduced to any other lady.
It so happened that Elizabeth, the second eldest of the Bennet girls,
had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two
dances; and during part of that time Mr. Darcy had been standing near
enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley,
who came from the dance for a few minutes.
"Come, Darcy," said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you
standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better
dance."
"I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am
particularly acquainted with my partner" At such an assembly as this it
would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not
another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to
stand up with."
"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a
kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my
life as I have this evening, and there are several of them, you see,
uncommonly pretty."
"_You_ are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Mr.
Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
"Oh, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one
of her sisters sitting down just behind you who is very pretty, and I
dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."
"Which do you mean?" And turning round, he looked for a moment at
Elizabeth, till, catching her eye, he withdrew his own, and coldly said:
"She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt _me_; and I am in no
humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted
by other men; You had better return to your partner and enjoy her
smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."
Mr. Bingley followed his advice. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth
remained, with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story,
however, with great spirit among her friends, for she had a lively,
playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.
_II--The Bennet Girls and their Lovers_
Despite its rather unpromising commencement the course of a few days
placed the acquaintance of the Bennets with the Bingleys on a footing
approaching friendship; and soon matters began to stand somewhat as
follow. It was obvious that Charles Bingley and Jane Bennet were
mutually attracted, and this despite the latter's outward composure,
which, like her amiability of manner and charity of view, was apt to
mislead the superficial observer. On the other hand, while the Bingley
ladies expressed themselves as willing to know the two elder Miss
Bennets and pronounced Jane "a sweet girl," they found the other females
of the family impossible. Mrs. Bennet was intolerably stupid and
tedious; Mary, who, being the only plain member of her family, piqued
herself on the extent of her reading and the solidity of her
reflections, was a platitudinous moralist; while Lydia and Kitty were
loud, silly, giggling girls, who spent all their time in running after
men. As for Mr. Darcy, the indifference he at first felt to Elizabeth
Bennet was gradually converted into a sort of guarded interest.
Originally he had scarcely allowed her to be pretty, but now he admired
the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded
some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected more than one
failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge
her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that
her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by
their easy playfulness. He began to wish to know more of her, and, as a
step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation
with others, while, since both he and she were of a satirical turn, they
soon began to exchange little rallying, challenging speeches, so that
Caroline Bingley, who was openly angling for Darcy herself, said to him
one night: "How long has Miss Elizabeth Bennet been such a favourite?
And pray when am I to wish you joy?" To which remarks he merely replied:
"That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's
imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love
to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy."
Meantime, the friendship subsisting between the two families was
advanced by a visit of some days paid by the two Bennet sisters to the
Bingleys, at whose house Jane, thanks to her mother's scheming, was laid
up with a bad cold. On this occasion Jane was coddled and made much of
by her dear friends Caroline and Mrs. Hurst; but Elizabeth was now
reckoned too attractive by one sister, and condemned as too
sharp-tongued by both.
"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is
one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other
sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it
succeeds. But in my opinion it is a very mean art."
"Undoubtedly," replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed,
"there is meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies sometimes condescend
to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is
despicable."
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to
continue the subject.
Nevertheless, Darcy's growing attachment to Eliza was little dreamt of
by that young lady. Indeed, her prejudice against him was strengthened
by her pleasant intercourse with a handsome and agreeable young man
called Wickham, an officer of the militia regiment quartered at Meryton,
the nearest town to Longbourn. He told her how he was the son of a
trusted steward of Darcy's father, and had been left by the old
gentleman to his heir's liberality and care, and how Darcy had
absolutely disregarded his father's wishes, and had treated his protégé
in cruel and unfeeling fashion.
On the top of this disclosure, and just at it seemed certain that
Bingley was on the point of proposing to Jane, the whole Netherfield
party suddenly abandoned Hertfordshire and returned to town, partly, as
Elizabeth could not help thinking, in consequence of the behaviour of
her family at a ball given at Netherfield Park, where it appeared to her
that, had they made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they
could during the evening, they could not have played their parts with
more spirit or finer success.
_III.--Elizabeth Rejects the Rector_
About this time the Rev. Mr. Collins, heir-presumptive to Longbourn,
came on a visit to the Bennets. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man
of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were
very formal. He was a strange mixture of pomposity, servility, and
self-importance, a creature most abjectly, yet most amusingly, devoid of
anything like tact, taste, or humour.
Being ready to make the Bennet girls every possible amends for the
unwilling injury he must eventually do them, he thought first of all of
offering himself to Jane; but hearing that her affections were
pre-engaged, he had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth. It was soon
done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire. His proposal he made
to the younger lady in a long, set speech, in which he explained, first
of all, his general reasons for marrying, and then his reasons for
directing his matrimonial views to Longbourn, finally assuring her that
on the subject of the small portion she would bring him no ungenerous
reproach should ever pass his lips when they were married.
It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him then, so Elizabeth told him
he was too hasty, thanked him for his proposals, and declined them.
"I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the
hand, "that it is usual with young ladies to reject the addresses of the
man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their
favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second, or even a
third, time. I am, therefore, by no means discouraged by what you have
said, and shall hope to lead you to the altar ere long."
"Upon my word, sir," cried Elizabeth, "your hope is rather an
extraordinary one after my declaration! I do assure you that I am not
one of those young ladies (if such young ladies there are) who are so
daring as to risk their happiness on the chance of being asked a second
time. I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make _me_
happy; and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who
would make _you_ so. Nay; were your friend, Lady Catherine, to know me,
I am persuaded she would find me in every respect ill qualified for the
situation."
"Were it certain that Lady Catherine would think so----" said Mr.
Collins, very gravely. "But I cannot imagine that her ladyship would at
all disapprove of you. And you may be certain that when I have the
honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the highest terms of your
modesty, economy, and other amiable qualifications."
Twice more was Mr. Collins refused, and even then he would not take "No"
for an answer.
"You must give me leave to flatter myself, my dear cousin," said he,
"that your refusals of my addresses are merely words, of course. My
reasons for believing it are chiefly these. It does not appear to me
that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I
can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in
life, my connections with the family of De Bourgh, and my relationship
to your own, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take
it into further consideration that, in spite of your manifold
attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage
may ever be made to you. Your portion is unhappily so small that it
will, in all likelihood, undo the effects of your loveliness and amiable
qualifications. As I must, therefore, conclude that you are not serious
in your rejection of me, I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of
increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of
elegant females."
"I do assure you, sir," said Elizabeth, "that I have no pretensions
whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a
respectable man. I would rather be paid the compliment of being believed
sincere. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in
your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible. My feelings
in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer? Do not consider me now
as an elegant female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature
speaking the truth from her heart."
"You are uniformly charming," said he, with an air of awkward gallantry;
"and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by the express authority of
both your excellent parents, my proposals will be acceptable."
_IV.--Darcy Loves and Loses_
Rejected by Elizabeth, to the great satisfaction of her father and to
the great indignation of her mother, the rector of Hunsford lost no time
in betaking himself to Elizabeth's dearest friend, Charlotte Lucas, who,
being a girl with unromantic, not to say prosaic, views of marriage,
readily accepted and married him, thereby moving to further disgust and
anger poor Mrs. Bennet, who was already wondering and repining at Mr.
Bingley's returning no more into Hertfordshire. Jane suffered in
silence, and despite Elizabeth's efforts to point out the duplicity of
Caroline Bingley, was inclined to believe the protestations that the
latter made in her letters from London of Bingley's growing attachment
to Darcy's sister Georgiana.
Mr. Bennet treated the matter in his customary ironical way.
"So, Lizzy," said he, one day, "your sister is crossed in love, I find.
I congratulate her. Next to being married, a girl likes to be crossed in
love a little now and then. It is something to think of, and gives her a
sort of distinction among her companions. When is your turn to come? You
will hardly bear to be long outdone by Jane. Now is your time. Here are
officers enough at Meryton to disappoint all the young ladies in the
country. Let Wickham be your man. He is a pleasant fellow, and would
jilt you creditably."
"Thank you, sir, but a less agreeable man would satisfy me. We must not
all expect Jane's good fortune."
"True," said Mr. Bennet; "but it is a comfort to think that, whatever of
that kind may befall you, you have a mother who will always make the
most of it."
As it turned out, Wickham, though he had not arrived at an intimacy
which enabled him to _jilt_ Elizabeth, yet most certainly transferred
his attentions very shortly from her to a Miss King, who, by the death
of her grandfather, had come into £10,000. Elizabeth, however, was quite
heartwhole; and she and her former admirer parted on friendly terms when
she left Longbourn to pay her promised visit to Mr. and Mrs. Collins at
Hunsford.
There she found Charlotte, managing her home and her husband with
considerable discretion: and, as the rectory adjoined Rosings Park, the
seat of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the patroness of the living, she was
introduced to that lady, in whom she could discover nothing but an
insolent aristocratic woman, who dictated to everyone about her, meddled
in everybody's business, aimed at marrying her sickly daughter to Darcy,
and was, needless to say, slavishly adored by Mr. Collins.
In the third week of her visit Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Colonel
Fitzwilliam, came down to see their aunt, and thus--to Elizabeth's
indifference--an acquaintance was renewed which Darcy soon seemed to
show a real desire to take up again. He sought her society at Rosings
Park, he called familiarly at the rectory, he waylaid her in her
favourite walk; and all the time, in all his intercourse with her, he
revealed such a mixture of interest and constraint as demonstrated only
too clearly that some internal struggle was going on within him.
Mrs. Collins began to hope for her friend; but Elizabeth, who had
received from Colonel Fitzwilliam ample confirmation of her suspicion
that it was Darcy who had persuaded Bingley to give up Jane, was now
only more incensed against the man who had broken her sister's peace of
mind.
On the very evening of the day on which she had extracted this piece of
information from his cousin, Darcy, knowing her to be alone, called at
the rectory, and, after a silence of several minutes, came towards her
in an agitated manner.
"In vain have I struggled," he said. "It will not do. My feelings will
not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire
and love you."
Elizabeth's astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured,
doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement;
and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt, for her
immediately followed. He spoke well; but there were feelings besides
those of the heart to be detailed. His sense of her inferiority, of
marriage with her being a degradation, of the family obstacles which
judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth
which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very
unlikely to recommend his suit. In truth, it was already lost, for
though Elizabeth could not be insensible to the compliment of such a
man's affection, her intentions did not vary for an instant. Accusing
him of having ruined, perhaps for ever, the happiness of her sister
Jane, and of having blighted the career of his former friend Wickham,
she reproached him with the uncivil style of his declaration, and gave
him her answer in the words:
"You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way
that would have tempted me to accept it."
Soon after, Darcy took his leave; but the next day he accosted Elizabeth
in the park, and handed her a letter, which he begged her to read. She
read it, and had the mortification to discover not only that Darcy made
some scathing but perfectly justifiable comments on the objectionable
members of her family, but that he was able to clear himself of both the
charges she had brought against him. He maintained that in separating
Bingley from Jane he had not the slightest notion that he was doing the
latter any injury, since he never credited her with any strong
attachment to his friend; and he assured Elizabeth that, though Wickham
had always been an idle and dissipated person, he had more than
fulfilled his father's intentions to him, and that Wickham had repaid
him for his generosity by trying to elope with his young sister
Georgiana, a girl of fifteen.
When Elizabeth returned to Longbourn, she found it a relief to tell Jane
of Darcy's proposal, and of his revelation of Wickham's real character;
but she thought it best to suppress every particular of the letter in
which Jane herself was concerned.
_V.--An Elopement_
Some two months later Elizabeth went on a tour in Derbyshire with her
maternal uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. The latter had lived for
some years at a town called Lambton, and wished to revisit her old
friends there; and as Pemberley--Mr. Darcy's seat--was only five miles
off, and was a show-place, the Gardiners determined to see it, though
their niece was reluctant to accompany them until she had learned that
its owner was not at home. As they were being shown over the place,
Elizabeth could not help reflecting that she might have been mistress of
it, and she listened with surprise as the old housekeeper told them that
she should never meet with a better master, that she had never had a
cross word from him in her life, that as a child he was always the
sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world, and that
there was not one of his tenants or servants but would testify to his
excellent qualities as a landlord and a master.
As they were walking across the lawn the owner of Pemberley himself
suddenly came forward from the road, and as if to justify the praises of
his housekeeper, and to show that he had taken to heart Elizabeth's
former complaints of his behaviour, proceeded to treat the Gardiner
party with the greatest civility, and even cordiality. He introduced his
sister to them, asked them to dinner, invited Mr. Gardiner to fish at
Pemberley as often as he chose, and, in answer to a spiteful remark of
Miss Bingley's to the effect that he had thought Elizabeth pretty at one
time, made the crushing reply:
"Yes, but that was only when I first knew her; for it is many months
since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my
acquaintance."
But just when Elizabeth's growing esteem and gratitude might have
deepened into affection for Darcy, circumstances were communicated to
her in a letter from Jane which seemed to render it in the highest
degree improbable that so proud and fastidious a man as he would ever
make any further advances. Lydia, who had got herself invited by some
friends to Brighton in order to be near the militia regiment which had
been transferred there from Meryton, had eloped with Wickham, and the
pair, instead of going to Scotland to be married, appeared--though their
whereabouts could not yet be discovered--to be living together in London
unmarried.
Darcy seemed to be staggered when he heard the news, and instantly
acquiesced in the immediate return of the Gardiner party to Longbourn.
They found on their arrival that Mr. Bennet was searching for his
daughter in London, where Mr. Gardiner agreed to go to consult with him.
"Oh, my dear brother," said Mrs. Bennet, on hearing this, "that is
exactly what I could most wish for! And now do, when you get to town,
find them out wherever they may be; and if they are not married already,
_make_ them marry. And as for wedding clothes, do not let them wait for
that; but tell Lydia she shall have as much money as she chooses to buy
them after they are married. And, above all things, keep Mr. Bennet from
fighting. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in--that I am frightened
out of my wits, and have such tremblings, such flutterings all over me;
such spasms in my side, and pains in my head, and such beatings at my
heart that I can get no rest by day nor by night. And tell my dear Lydia
not to give any directions about her clothes till she has seen me, for
she does not know which are the best warehouses. Oh, brother, how kind
you are! I know you will contrive it all."
Mr. Collins improved the occasion by writing a letter of condolence, in
which he assured the distressed father that the death of Lydia would
have been a blessing in comparison with her elopement. But,
unfortunately, much of this instruction was wasted, the distress of the
Bennets proving less irremediable than their cousin had anticipated or
their neighbours feared--for, thanks, as it seemed, to the
investigations and to the generosity of Mr. Gardiner, the eloping couple
were discovered, and it was made worth Wickham's while to marry Lydia.
Longbourn society bore the good news with decent philosophy, though, to
be sure, it would have been more for the advantage of conversation had
Miss Lydia Bennet come upon the town.
_VI.--Three Bennet Weddings_
After arrangements had been made for Wickham's entering the regulars and
joining a regiment at Newcastle, his marriage with Lydia took place, and
the young couple were received at Longbourn. Their assurance was quite
reassuring.
"Well, mamma," said Lydia, "and what do you think of my husband? Is not
he a charming man? I am sure my sisters must all envy me. I only hope
they may have half my good luck. They must all go to Brighton. That is
the place to get husbands. What a pity it is, mamma, we did not all go!"
"Very true. And if I had my will we should. But, my dear Lydia, I don't
at all like your going such a way off. Must it be so?"
"Oh, Lord, yes! There is nothing in that. I shall like it of all things.
You and papa and my sisters must come down and see us. We shall be at
Newcastle all the winter; and I dare say there will be some balls, and I
will take care to get good partners for them all."
"I should like it beyond anything!" said her mother.
"And then, when you go away, you may leave one or two of my sisters
behind you; and I dare say I shall get husbands for them before the
winter is over."
"I thank you for my share of the favour," said Elizabeth; "but I do not
particularly like your way of getting husbands!"
Indeed, from some remark which Lydia let slip about Darcy being at the
wedding, Elizabeth soon began to think that it was only due to outside
efforts that Mrs. Wickham had succeeded in getting _her own_ husband.
An application for information which she made to her Aunt Gardiner
confirmed this suspicion. Darcy, it seems, had hurried up to London
immediately on hearing of the elopement; and he it was who, thanks to
his knowledge of Wickham's previous history, found out where Lydia and
he were lodging, and by dint of paying his debts to the tune of a
thousand pounds, buying his commission, and settling another thousand
pounds on Lydia, persuaded him to make her an honest woman. That is to
say, thought Elizabeth, Darcy had met, frequently met, reasoned with,
persuaded, and finally bribed the man whom he always most wished to
avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce.
Meantime, Bingley, accompanied by Darcy, made his reappearance at
Netherfield Park and at the Bennets'; and Elizabeth had the
mortification of seeing her mother welcome the former with the greatest
effusiveness, and treat the latter coldly and almost resentfully. "Any
friend of Mr. Bingley's will always be welcome here, to be sure; but
else I must say that I hate the very sight of him," said Mrs. Bennet, as
she watched the two men approaching the house to pay their first visit.
Despite, however, rather than by reason of, this surfeit of amiability
on the part of the mother, the lovers quickly came to an understanding,
and this, strangely enough, in the absence of Darcy, who had gone up to
town. It was in Darcy's absence, also, that Lady Catherine de Bourgh
came over to Longbourn, and helped to bring about what she most ardently
wished to prevent by making an unsuccessful demand on Elizabeth that she
should promise not to accept Darcy for a husband, and by then reporting
to him that Elizabeth had refused to give such a promise. The natural
result followed. Elizabeth mustered up courage one day to thank Darcy
for all he had done for Lydia; and this subject soon led _him_ to affirm
that in that matter he had thought only of Elizabeth, and to renew--and
to renew successfully--his former proposals of marriage. When Mrs.
Bennet first heard the great news she sat quite still, and unable to
utter a syllable; and at first even Jane and her father were almost
incredulous of the engagement, because they had seen practically nothing
of the courtship. But in the end they were all convinced, and Mr.
Bennet's decisive comment was: "I admire all my three sons-in-law
highly. Wickham, perhaps, is my favourite; but I think I shall like
_your_ husband quite as well as Jane's. If any young men come for Mary
or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure."
* * * * *