Emma

"Emma," one of the author's later novels, had been finished,

when, in the autumn of 1815, Jane Austen came to London to

nurse her brother Henry, who was a clergyman, at his house in

Hans Place, in Chelsea. He was being attended by one of the

Prince Regent's physicians, who seems to have learned in this

way the secret of the authorship of "Mansfield Park" and its

predecessors. The result was that the Prince, who is said to

have been a great admirer of these then anonymous novels, was

graciously pleased to notify Miss Austen, through his

chaplain, Mr. Clarke, that if she had any new novel in hand,

she was at liberty to dedicate it to his Royal Highness.

"Emma" was accordingly dedicated to the Prince. It was

reviewed, along with its author's other novels, in the

"Quarterly," and the anonymous reviewer, who took no notice of

"Mansfield Park," turns out to have been none other than Sir

Walter Scott. In his Diary for March 14, 1826, Sir Walter

further praised Miss Austen's exquisite touch and her gift for

true description and sentiment.

_I.--The Social Amenities of Highbury_

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and

happy disposition, was the younger of the two daughters of a most

affectionate and indulgent father, and had, in consequence of her

sister's marriage, been mistress of his house from a very early period.

Her mother had died too long ago for her to have more than an indistinct

remembrance of her caresses, and her place had been supplied by Miss

Taylor, who for sixteen years had been in Mr. Woodhouse's family, less

as governess than friend, very fond of both daughters, but particularly

of Emma. For years the two ladies had been living together, mutely

attached, Emma doing just what she liked, highly esteeming Miss Taylor's

judgment, but chiefly directed by her own.

The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having

rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too

well of herself. The danger, however, was at present unperceived, and

did not by any means rank as a misfortune with her.

Sorrow came--a gentle sorrow. Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor's

loss which first brought grief. It was on the wedding-day of this

beloved friend, with the wedding over and the bride-people gone, that

Emma first sat in mournful thought of any continuance. The event had

every promise of happiness for her friend. Mr. Weston was a man of

unexceptionable character, easy fortune, suitable age, and pleasant

manners; and there was some satisfaction in considering with what

self-denying, generous friendship she had always wished and promoted the

match. But it was a black morning's work for her. The want of Miss

Taylor would be felt every hour of every day. She had been a friend and

companion such as few possessed: intelligent, well-informed, useful,

gentle; knowing all the ways of the family, interested in all its

concerns, and peculiarly interested in herself, in every pleasure, every

scheme of hers--one to whom she could speak every thought, and who had

such an affection for her as could never find fault.

How was Emma to bear the change? She was now in great danger of

suffering from intellectual solitude. She dearly loved her father, but

he was no companion for her. He could not meet her in conversation,

rational or playful. The evil of the actual disparity in their ages (as

Mr. Woodhouse had not married early) was much increased by his

constitution and habits; for, having been a valetudinarian all his life,

without activity of mind or body, he was a much older man in ways than

in years; and though everywhere beloved for the friendliness of his

heart and his amiable temper, his talents could not have recommended him

at any time.

Emma's sister, though comparatively but little removed by matrimony,

being settled in London, only sixteen miles off, was much beyond her

daily reach; and it was quite three months before Christmas, that would

bring the next visit from Isabella, her husband, and children.

Highbury, the large and populous village to which her house, Hartfield,

really belonged, afforded her no equals. The Woodhouses were first in

consequence there. All looked up to them; but there was not one of her

acquaintances among them who could be accepted in lieu of Miss Taylor

for even half a day. It was a melancholy change; and Emma could not but

sigh over it, and wish for impossible things, till her father awoke from

his usual after-dinner sleep, and made it necessary to be cheerful. His

spirits required support. He was a nervous man, easily depressed; fond

of everybody he was used to, and hating to part with them; hating change

of every kind. Matrimony, as the origin of change, was always

disagreeable to him; and he was not yet reconciled to his own daughter

marrying, nor could ever speak of her but with compassion, though it had

been entirely a match of affection, when he was now obliged to part with

Miss Taylor, too.

He was pitying "poor Miss Taylor," and magnifying the half-mile's

distance that separated Hartfield from Mr. Weston's place, Randalls,

when a visitor walked in. This was Mr. George Knightley, the elder

brother of Isabella's husband, and the owner of Donwell Abbey, the large

estate of the district. He was a sensible man, about seven or eight and

thirty, a very old and intimate friend of the family, and a frequent and

always welcome visitor. He had returned to a late dinner after some

days' absence in London, and had walked up to Hartfield to say that all

was well with their relatives in Brunswick Square. They talked of the

wedding. Emma congratulated herself on having made the match. Mr.

Knightley demurred to this, remarking: "A straightforward, open-hearted

man, like Weston, and a rational, unaffected woman, like Miss Taylor,

may be safely left to manage their own concerns." And when Emma, in

reply to entreaties from her father to make no more matches, answered,

"Only one more, papa; only for Mr. Elton--you like Mr. Elton, papa; I

must look about for a wife for him"--her old friend gave her the

salutary advice: "Invite him to dinner, Emma, and help him to the best

of the fish and the chicken; but leave him to choose his own wife.

Depend upon it, a man of six or seven and twenty can take care of

himself."

_II.--Emma as a Matchmaker_

Emma lost no time in developing her schemes for the happiness of Mr.

Elton. Through Mrs. Goddard, the mistress of the local boarding-school

for girls, she struck up an acquaintance, which she contrived rapidly to

develop into intimacy, with a Miss Harriet Smith--a plump, fair-haired,

blue-eyed little beauty of seventeen, whose prettiness, docility,

good-temper and simplicity might be allowed to balance her lack of

intelligence and information.

Harriet was the natural daughter of somebody. Somebody had placed her

several years back at Mrs. Goddard's school, and somebody had lately

raised her from the condition of scholar to that of parlour-boarder.

This was all that was generally known of her history. She had no visible

friends but what had been acquired at Highbury, and was now just

returned from a long visit in the country to some young ladies--the

Misses Martin--who had been at school there with her.

The first step which Emma took in the education of Harriet was to cool

her interest in the Martins. She pointed out that Mr. Robert Martin, who

held a large farm from Mr. Knightley in Donwell parish, was too young to

marry at twenty-four, that he had, besides, an awkward look, an abrupt

manner, and an uncouth voice; and that, moreover, he was quite plain-

looking and wholly ungenteel; whereas Mr. Elton, who was good-humoured,

cheerful, obliging and gentle, was a pattern of good manners and good

looks, and seemed to be taking quite an interest in Harriet. So indeed

it appeared. Mr. Elton seemed delighted with being in the society of

Emma and Harriet. He praised Harriet as a beautiful girl, congratulated

Emma on the improvement she had wrought in her, contributed a charade to

Harriet's riddle-book, and took a most animated interest in a portrait

which Emma began to paint of her.

But Mr. Knightley was not so complacent. "I think Harriet," he said to

Mrs. Weston, "the very worst sort of a companion that Emma could

possibly have. She knows nothing herself, and looks upon Emma as knowing

everything. Her ignorance is hourly flattery. How can Emma imagine she

has anything to learn herself while Harriet is presenting such a

delightful inferiority? And as for Harriet, Hartfield will only put her

out of conceit with all the other places she belongs to. She will grow

just refined enough to be uncomfortable with those among whom birth and

circumstances have placed her."

This was in the early stages of the intimacy. Later in the day, when he

learned that Emma had taken so decided a hand in the affairs of Harriet

as to persuade her to decline a formal offer of marriage from Mr.

Martin, he told her plainly:

"I have always thought it a very foolish intimacy, though I have kept my

thoughts to myself; but now I perceive that it will be a very

unfortunate one for Harriet. You will puff her up with such ideas of her

own beauty, and what she has claim to, that, in a little while, nobody

within her reach will be good enough for her. Robert Martin has no great

loss if he can but think so; and I hope it will not be long before he

does. Your views for Harriet are best known to yourself; but, as you

make no secret of your love of match-making, I shall just hint to you as

a friend that, if Elton is the man, I think it will be all labour in

vain."

Emma laughed and disclaimed. "Depend upon it," he continued, "Elton will

not do. Elton is a very good sort of a man, and a very respectable vicar

of Highbury, but not at all likely to make an imprudent match. He is as

well acquainted with his own claims as you can be with Harriet's; and I

am convinced that he does not mean to throw himself away."

But despite this warning from Mr. George Knightley, despite a hint

dropped by Mr. John Knightley, when he and his wife and children came to

stop with the Woodhouses for Christmas--a hint to the effect that his

sister-in-law would do well to consider whether Mr. Elton was not in

love with _her_--Emma continued quite as ardent in her new friendship

and in her hopes.

As to herself, she told Harriet that she was not going to be married at

present, and had very little intention of ever marrying at all; though

when Harriet reminded her of Miss Bates, who was the daughter of a

former vicar of Highbury and lived in a very small way with her mother,

a very old lady almost past everything but tea and quadrille, she

confessed that if she thought she would ever be like Miss Bates, "so

silly, so satisfied, so smiling, so prosing, so undistinguishing, so

unfastidious, and so garrulous," she would marry to-morrow.

But Mr. Elton was unaware of Emma having thought of making such a

self-denying ordinance; and so one night when the Woodhouses and the

Knightleys were returning home from a party at Randalls he took

advantage of his being alone in a carriage with her to propose to her,

seeming never to doubt his being accepted. When he learned, however, for

whom his hand had been destined, he became very indignant and

contemptuous.

"Never, madam!" cried he. "Never, I assure you! _I_ think seriously of

Miss Smith! Miss Smith is a very good sort of girl; and I should be

happy to see her respectably settled. I wish her extremely well; and, no

doubt, there are men who might not object to--Everybody has their level;

but as for myself, I am not, I think, quite so much at a loss. I need

not so totally despair of an equal alliance as to be addressing myself

to Miss Smith! No, madam; my visits to Hatfield have been for yourself

only."

Needless to say, Emma refused him, and they parted on terms of mutually

deep mortification. Fortunately, the task of enlightening Harriet as to

the state of Mr. Elton's feelings proved less troublesome than Emma had

expected it to be. Harriet's tears fell abundantly, but otherwise she

bore the intelligence very meekly and well.

_III.--Emma's Schemes in a Tangle_

As if to make up for the absence of Mr. Elton, who went to spend a few

weeks in Bath, in an endeavour to cure his wounded affections. Highbury

society was shortly enlarged by the arrival of two such welcome

additions as Miss Jane Fairfax and Mr. Frank Churchill.

Miss Fairfax, who was the orphan daughter of Lieutenant Fairfax, and

Miss Janes Bates had for many years been living with her father's

brother-officer, Colonel Campbell, and his wife and daughter. A

beautiful girl of nineteen, with only a few hundred pounds of her own,

and no monetary expectations from her adoptive father, she had received

such an education as qualified her to become a governess; and though as

long as Colonel and Mrs. Campbell lived their home might always be hers,

she had all along resolved to start earning her own living at one-and-

twenty. Her friend, Miss Campbell, had recently married a rich and

agreeable young man called Dixon; and though the Dixons had urgently

invited her to join Colonel and Mrs. Campbell in a visit to them in

Ireland, Jane preferred to spend three months' holiday with her aunt and

grandmother at Highbury, with some vague intention of starting her

scholastic career at the end of this period. Emma did not like Jane

Fairfax, partly because Jane's aunt was always boring people by talking

of her; partly, perhaps, because--as Mr. Knightley once told her--she

saw in her the really accomplished young woman which she wanted to be

thought herself. At any rate, she still found her as reserved as ever.

Jane had been a little acquainted with Mr. Frank Churchill at Weymouth,

but she either could not, or would not, tell Emma anything about him.

That gentleman, however, soon presented himself in person. He was the

son of Mr. Weston by his first wife. At the age of three he had been

adopted by his maternal uncle, Mr. Churchill; and so avowedly had he

been brought up as their heir by Mr. and Mrs. Churchill--who had no

children of their own--that on his coming of age he had assumed the name

of Churchill. For some months he had been promising to pay a visit to

his father and stepmother to compliment them on their marriage; but on

the pretext of his not being able to leave Enscombe, his uncle's place,

it had been repeatedly postponed.

Emma was inclined to make allowances for him as a young man dependent on

the caprices of relations. But Mr. Knightley condemned his conduct

roundly. "He cannot want money, he cannot want leisure," he said. "We

know, on the contrary, that he has so much of both that he is glad to

get rid of them at the idlest haunts in the kingdom." Notwithstanding,

when he did arrive, Frank Churchill carried all before him by reason of

his good looks, sprightliness, and amiability. Emma and he soon became

great friends. He favoured an idea of hers, that Jane's refusal to go to

the Dixons' in Ireland was due either to Mr. Dixon's attachment to her,

or to her attachment to Mr. Dixon. When a Broadwood pianoforte arrived

for Jane--which was generally taken to be a gift from Colonel

Campbell--he agreed with her in thinking that this was another

occurrence for which Mr. Dixon's love was responsible; and he was busily

engaged in planning out the details of a projected ball at the Crown Inn

when a letter from Mr. Churchill urging his instant departure compelled

him to make a hurried return to Enscombe.

Meanwhile, while Emma was entertaining no doubt of her being in love

with Frank, and only wondering how deep her feeling was, while she was

content to think that Frank was very much in love with her, and was

concluding every imaginary declaration on his side with a refusal of his

proposals, Mr. Elton returned to Highbury with his bride. Miss Augusta

Hawkins--to give Mrs. Elton her maiden name--was the younger of the two

daughters of a Bristol tradesman, and was credited with having ten

thousand pounds of her own. A self-important, presuming, familiar,

ignorant, and ill-bred woman, with a little beauty and a little

accomplishment, who was always expatiating on the charms of Mr.

Suckling's--her brother-in-law's--place, Maple Grove, she soon excited

disgust in Emma, who offended her by the scanty encouragement with which

she received her proposals of intimacy, and was herself offended by the

great fancy which Mrs. Elton took to Jane Fairfax. Long before Emma had

forfeited her confidence, she was not satisfied with expressing a

natural and reasonable admiration of Jane, but, without solicitation, or

plea, or privilege, she must be wanting to assist and befriend her. The

ill-feeling thus aroused found significant expression on the occasion of

the long-talked-of ball at the Crown, which Mr. Weston was able to give

one evening in May, thanks to the settlement of the Churchills at

Richmond, and the consequent reappearance of Frank Churchill at

Highbury. Indeed, Emma met with two annoyances on that famous evening.

Mr. Weston had entreated her to come early, before any other person

came, for the purpose of taking her opinion as to the propriety and

comfort of the rooms; and when she got there, she found that quite half

the company had come, by particular desire, to help Mr. Weston's

judgment. She felt that to be the favourite and intimate of a man who

had so many intimates was not the first distinction in the scale of

vanity.

The other vexing circumstance was due to the conduct of Mr. Elton, who,

asked by Mrs. Weston to dance with Harriet Smith, declined on the ground

that he was an old married man, and that his dancing days were over.

Fortunately, Mr. Knightley, who has recently disappointed Mrs. Weston,

and pleased Emma by disclaiming any idea of being attached to Jane

Fairfax, was able in some measure to redeem the situation by leading

Harriet to the set himself. Emma had no opportunity of speaking to him

till after supper; and then he said to her: "They aimed at wounding more

than Harriet. Emma, why is it that they are your enemies?" He looked

with smiling penetration, and, on receiving no answer, added: "_She_

ought not to be angry with you, I suspect, whatever he may be. To that

surmise you say nothing, of course; but confess, Emma, that you did want

him to marry Harriet." "I did," replied Emma, "and they cannot forgive

me."

A day or two afterwards, Harriet figured as the heroine of another

little scene. She was rescued by Frank Churchill from an encounter with

some gipsies; and after telling Emma, in a very serious tone, a few days

later, that she should never marry, confessed that she had come to this

resolution because the person she might prefer to marry was one so

greatly her superior in situation.

_IV.--Love Finds its Own Way_

His own attentions, his father's hints, his stepmother's guarded

silence, all seemed to declare that Emma was Frank Churchill's object.

But while so many were devoting him to Emma, and Emma herself was making

him over to Harriet, Mr. Knightley began to suspect him of some

inclination to trifle with Jane Fairfax. When Mr. Knightley mentioned

these suspicions to Emma, she declared them sheer imagination, and said

that she could _answer_ for there being no attachment on the side of the

gentleman; while he himself, as if to ridicule the whole idea, flirted

outrageously with Emma on an excursion to Box Hill at which Jane was

present, and even asked the former lady to choose a wife for him. The

next day Emma, calling on Miss Bates, learned that Jane, who, was at

present too unwell to see her, had just accepted a post as governess,

obtained for her by Mrs. Elton, and that Frank Churchill had been

summoned to return immediately to Richmond in consequence of Mrs.

Churchill's state of health. On the following day an express arrived at

Randalls to announce the death of Mrs. Churchill.

Emma, seeing in this latter event a circumstance favourable to the union

of Frank and Harriet (for Mr. Churchill, independent of his wife, was

feared by nobody), now only wished for some proof of the former's

attachment to her friend. She could, however, for the moment do nothing

for Harriet, whereas she could show some attention to Jane, whose

prospects were closing, while Harriet's were opening. But here she

proved to be mistaken; all her endeavours were to no purpose. The

invalid refused everything that was offered, no matter what its

character; and Emma had to console herself with the thought that her

intentions were good, and would have satisfied even so strict an

investigator of motives as Mr. Knightley.

One morning, about ten days after Mrs. Churchill's death, Emma was

called downstairs to Mr. Weston, who asked her to come to Randalls as

Mrs. Weston wanted to see her alone. Relieved to find that the matter

was not one of illness, either there or at Brunswick Square, Emma

resolved to wait patiently till she could see her old friend. But what

was her surprise, on Mr. Weston leaving them together, when his wife

revealed the fact that Frank and Jane had been secretly engaged since

October of the previous year! It was almost greater than Mrs. Weston's

relief when she learned, to her joy, that Emma now cared nothing at all

for Frank, and so had been in no wise injured by this clandestine

understanding, the divulgence of which was due, it seemed, to the fact

that, immediately on hearing of Jane's agreement to take up the post of

governess, Frank had gone to his uncle, told him of the engagement, and

with little difficulty obtained his consent to it.

It was with a heavy heart that Emma went home to give Harriet the news

that must blast her hopes of happiness once more. But, again, a surprise

was in store for her. Harriet had already been told by Mr. Weston, and

seemed to bear her misfortune quite stoically, the reason being that the

person of "superior situation" whom she despaired of securing was not

Mr. Frank Churchill, but Mr. George Knightley.

Emma was not prepared for this development. It darted through her, with

the speed of an arrow, that Mr. Knightley must marry no one but herself!

Which desirable consummation was brought about at their next interview;

for, after trying to console her for the abominable conduct of Frank

Churchill, under the mistaken impression that that young gentleman had

succeeded in engaging her affections, Mr. Knightley proposed marriage to

her, and was accepted. As for Harriet, she was invited, at Emma's

suggestion, to spend a fortnight with Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley in

Brunswick Square, and there, meeting Mr. Robert Martin, through Mr.

George Knightley's contrivance, was easily persuaded to become his wife.

About this same time, too, Mrs. Weston's husband and friends were all

made happy by knowing her to be the mother of a little girl; while Emma

and Mrs. Weston were enabled to take a more lenient view of Frank

Churchill's conduct, thanks to a long letter which he wrote to the

latter lady in which he apologised for his equivocal conduct to Emma,

and expressed his regret that those attentions should have caused such

poignant distress to the lady whom he was shortly to make his wife. The

much discussed pianoforte had been his gift.

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