Chapter Text
Men and women are formed to be complimentary to each other, yet there is not such a universal Temper, as to make a union of One Man and One Woman only pleasing to our Lord God, or to those in such a Union, and our Fathers in the Early Church thereby recognised, that it was the will of our Lord God that Marriage should not be formed of only two Souls, but of three. And so as the Holy Trinity, with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, form together a perfect Balance, so is it natural that our holy State of Matrimony should mimic it; blessed indeed is the Union, which through three spouses, combines a strong Intellect, Sensibility and an even Temper, ensuring the domestic bliss, to which all of us must surely aspire.
Yet it must be acknowledged that a true perfect marriage, in these times, is not within the immediate grasp of all. A sad state of affairs indeed, but let us not ourselves be carried away by our feelings for those women, though a natural affection may subsist between them, which within a marriage to a man would be all that is proper, and say: Let them be permitted a partnership! For what use has such a state for two women?
Women are formed for domestic happiness, and their sweet tempers indeed, may be of a comfort for each other, until they may find a Man who would join with them into holy Matrimony, but how could such two form a partnership between themselves? To force one of these two sweet creatures, into a state where one must of necessity take a leading role, and act contrary to their nature, would not only be damaging to the poor woman in question, but could not but consequently damage their ability to obtain a Full Marriage, by leading one of the partners away, from that natural subservience and deference which must be so pleasing in a wife…
…two men, have even less cause than two women, to wish for such a union, for it is in Men’s natures, though they may be sociable creatures, to be Independent, and men may manage their own households freely until such a time of their marriage; for though many Men, to their great credit, may recognise that within a true Marriage to another man and woman, they might find their greatest happiness, and so submit themselves to the authority of another, for a Marriage may only have one Leader, yet what man could wish for this state of subservience, without the guarantees that a Full Marriage must give, of the moderating Influence and love of a Woman? For hath not our Lord God decreed that a Marriage must consist of one man and one woman, and one other such as they have need? Would a union of two men only not, therefore, without this Influence, introduce such strife between them as to extinguish, all the affection and warmth between them, that existed before?
A Partnership of one man and one woman, is in-keeping with the Laws and Traditions of our land, as well as the Will of God, and therefore might be permitted from Necessity, though we must all wish for such a Partnership to be temporary and a suitable third spouse to join and make the Union a perfect and happy Marriage without delay. It must also follow, though lamentable, that we should not imagine that the affections existing between two men or two women, and their griefs without a third to consummate a Full Marriage between them, would be at all alleviated with the introduction of Partnerships between them.
From On the Bill for the Formal Partnership of Two Persons, In Anticipation of a Full Marriage, lately introduced to Parliament, anonymous tract, published 1785. The bill was defeated in the House of Lords.
*
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a young man in possession of a fortune, must be in want of at least one wife.
The arrival in the neighbourhood of Meryton, Hertfordshire of a young man called Mr Bingley of five thousand a year aroused much excitement, especially in the Bennet household where there were five unmarried daughters. Luckily for the Bennet girls, one of their fathers, Mr Philips, had advance intelligence of Mr Bingley from the role he had played as a solicitor in securing the man’s tenancy of Netherfield.
Though the husband of a gentleman, Mr Philips still continued in the firm which he had inherited from his wife’s father; perhaps indeed his marriage to one of the wealthiest gentleman of the neighbourhood increased the consequence of his firm, and his choice to continue in it. Certainly it was unusual for a gentleman to encourage his husband to continue in employment, but Mr Bennet’s eccentricities were well known in their small neighbourhood and tolerated, if not often delighted in, for the occasions they gave to gossip when all other sources had been exhausted.
Mr Philips therefore was not only able to reassure his daughters with first hand knowledge of Mr Bingley being an amiable, sensible, and handsome gentleman who was currently unattached and without any understanding, but also to advise them that very lively hopes were being entertained of him throughout the neighbourhood.
“Therefore, girls,” he informed them sternly, “I expect you to recommend yourselves by good principles and character, without designs to set yourself as the competition of any in the neighbourhood, for I’m sure there are many young men and women who would make you a suitable spouse alongside Mr Bingley.”
“Papa,” Jane protested, “we have not even met Mr Bingley, you cannot suppose he will be interested in us.”
“I suppose nothing,” Mr Philips replied, “for he had already heard the Bennet girls described as the handsomest of our little society before I even had the pleasure of telling him you were my daughters. He is most eager to make the acquaintance of all of you.”
Though saying this, he looked smilingly in particular at Jane, the eldest and even to Mr Philips, who was most similar in character to his middle and favourite daughter Mary, the most beautiful of all the Bennet girls. He very proudly did not think any of them deficient in this aspect, but Jane he admitted possessed more than the others, and though she was not so widely read or devout as Mary, she complemented her beauty with good sense, taste, and a gentle character, which matched very well with his impression of the young man new to the neighbourhood. Yes, Mr Philips’s hopes for Mr Bingley’s heart were as lively as any father in the locality.
Mr Philips was, however, more circumspect in telling his wife of his expectations of Mr Bingley at breakfast with all of the family, saying only that Mr Bingley should be further acquainted with the family shortly, for he was very sure to attend the next public assembly.
His efforts were in vain; Mrs Bennet’s imagination carried all before her. “Oh! Such a rich, a handsome young man, is a fine thing for our girls! Oh Jane, he must certainly fall in love with you, I knew you could not be so beautiful for no reason. You shall marry Mr Bingley and throw all your sisters into the path of other rich gentlemen. Why, if you were to marry, Lydia could have her come out all the sooner. Mr Bennet, is it not a fine idea? You must let Lydia come out early if Jane is married!”
Mr Bennet, aware of both his husband’s determination that Lydia was not yet sensible enough for company, and equally of his wife’s ability to invade his study to carry her points, said only, “My dear, Jane must be married before we could possibly think of such a thing; might not your brother provide Jane some fine material for a new dress?” and satisfied himself for having avoided giving any answer which would injure either spouse.
Mrs Bennet happily carried on conversation of new dresses, and prevailed on her husband Philips to provide the funds for this scheme, and Mr Philips was happy to acquiesce, after the cooperation of Mary and her insistence that she wanted only lace and new ribbons to make over an older dress, and her insistence that this must surely be Kitty’s and Elizabeth’s feelings also, had reduced the enterprise into a new dress for Jane only. To ensure Mrs Bennet’s compliance, he was forced to promise that Lydia should have something new and very handsome for her come out after Jane married.
Though Mrs Bennet accepted this compromise with bad grace and insisted Mr Philips did not have compassion for her nerves or for their daughters’ wish to be married to Mr Bingley, Mr Philips hoped for Jane’s marriage to that young man almost as much as herself. To this end, he was determined to put aside money now, such that Jane should not appear shabby next to the finery that Mr Bingley’s family were no doubt accustomed to, when it came time to procure her trousseau. Perhaps Mr Bingley would find two spouses in the neighbourhood, but Mr Philips was determined that his daughter should be the finest of them.
Had he thought to only explain this reasoning to Mrs Bennet, harmonious relations in the household would have been assured for weeks; alas, Mrs Bennet retired to her room with Lydia, both feeling very ill-used, whilst Kitty went away to play the pianoforte very ill so that Mary could not, extremely put out that she had been denied a new dress. Mary therefore took to the comfort of reading aloud from Fordyce, which, though Elizabeth was not in the least upset that her sister should have something new when she should not, drove her out of doors so fast that her elder sister worried that she was upset. Jane therefore fretted about her own unChristian charity to the tune of Mary’s lectures about covetousness and jealousy, which were read very loudly in hopes of reaching Kitty over the discordant notes of the pianoforte, and became more upset on behalf of her sisters when Mr Philips refused to alter the plans.
Mr Bennet locked the door to his study and did not emerge until dinner time, and so he was the most satisfied of all by the arrangement.
*
In the end, despite Mr Philips’s triumph of prior acquaintance, the Bennet daughters were not to meet Mr Bingley until the rest of the neighbourhood did at the next public assembly.
Elizabeth was pleased to see both that Mr Bingley seemed genuinely keen to deepen his acquaintance with Mr Philips, and how taken he was with Jane, standing up with her for two dances and signing Jane’s praises when he danced with Elizabeth also. As Jane was Elizabeth’s favourite sister, she was more than pleased to indulge this interest.
Elizabeth’s intimate friend, Charlotte Lucas, also danced with Mr Bingley and returned to her friend’s side with a similar report.
“I also told Mr Bingley that Jane was of a reserved character and so he should assume she feels more affection than she shows,” she added.
“Charlotte!” Elizabeth coloured. “They have only just met!”
“Well of course I did not say it in so many words,” was Charlotte’s implacable reply, “but she seems equally taken with him; he has no prior attachments which might complicate things; why should I not recommend her to him?” She paused. “Jane has not formed an understanding with anyone, has she?”
“No! — Jane is as she ever was, loved by everyone, but she has found no one to touch her heart.” Elizabeth could see Bingley standing near Jane, deep in conversation with her, and thought the brightness of her sister’s expression might soon change this, however.
“That is just as well; Bingley’s sister might more easily allow a love match if they see no impediment to a wealthier third spouse, as they no doubt expect of him.”
“You read them as I do, then?” Elizabeth asked. “Conceited and condescending?”
“Yes, though I suppose they condescend nicely enough to Jane. We may entertain some hopes of their approbation.” Charlotte paused. “Do you suppose they mean Bingley and Mr Darcy to…?”
“No, I do not suppose it,” Elizabeth said dryly, having already observed Miss Bingley’s very devoted interest in Mr Darcy. Her observations of the Bingleys led into a discussion of all that had passed so far at the assembly, including the conversation Elizabeth had overheard between Bingley and Mr Darcy concerning herself.
“Not handsome enough to tempt him!” Charlotte repeated with genuine anger that startled Elizabeth. “And having caught your eye, such that he might expect you could possibly overhear! Monstrous pride, indeed!”
“You need not speak so on my behalf,” she protested; she had expected her rank-conscious friend to offer some defence of him, that she might feel a bit better of the whole. “I assure you, his opinion can mean little to me, if he is so blinded by pride.”
Charlotte recovered herself enough to say, “I suppose pride in one of Darcy’s rank is justifiable enough, but it does not speak well of his sense, to speak so of the handsomest woman in the room.” She looked at Elizabeth piercingly. “And you cannot pretend indifference to me, I know your joke is to cover your injury, and as much as I hope you will soon forget this slight to you, I cannot easily forgive anyone who would cause you any grief.”
Elizabeth, already blushing at Charlotte’s compliment, could not find in her the words necessary to convey her feelings, and reached over to squeeze her friend’s hand instead.
Realising how honestly she had spoken, Charlotte hastily said, “But since we are entering into your sister’s feelings so much, I should suppose as she would that he speaks from discomfort among strangers and does not act as he would wish, and go engage him in conversation to see if I can set him more at ease,” and excused herself before Elizabeth could protest.
Charlotte’s attempt to ease Mr Darcy’s woe was short-lived, as might well be expected from the conversation that preceded it, but Elizabeth could not get Charlotte to sit with her for the rest of the night.
*
Mr Bingley’s preference for Jane Bennet was noted with less enjoyment by other parties. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst, sometimes whilst soliciting Mr Darcy’s opinion, made every effort to disparage the Bennet family.
“And a father still in work, though he is the husband of a gentleman!” Miss Bingley said, after the uncle in Cheapside had failed to have the desired effect. “It cannot speak well of the family’s solvency that one of the men should need to continue in work, can it, Mr Darcy?”
“If it is of necessity, then certainly not,” Darcy agreed.
“Well, for myself, I cannot believe it is from necessity at all,” Bingley replied. “Mr Philips is a very sensible, well-dressed man, and he is involved in so many charitable schemes for the poor, I really think that is where he prefers to spend whatever he earns, which is so much the good. What a fine example he sets as a father! I think he works only to have some occupation, which men really must want, you know, even in marriage to a gentleman.”
Miss Bingley applied again to Mr Darcy. “I’m sure you, sir, would never suffer the scandal of a husband taking up an occupation.”
“I could not allow it,” Mr Darcy said, but, seeing his friend’s expression was becoming less sanguine, and not really feeling any strong objection to Jane Bennet alone, was magnanimous enough to add, “but then, I would not suppose my husband, should I have one, would have to be unoccupied either; I should think a share in the estate management of Pemberley would provide enough employment. Perhaps on a smaller estate it is different.”
By this recommendation did Mr Bingley think himself free to think of the Bennet family and its eldest daughter however he chose. Miss Bingley realised that her brother was really determined to like Jane Bennet and relented. She allowed that Miss Bennet was a very beautiful and amiable young woman, and speculated that she might get along very well with Miss Darcy, dwelling on what she saw as the common positives of each; as both Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, for their own reasons, were very amenable to this topic, she was able to continue on this line until the party arrived at Netherfield and were obliged to break up for their separate beds.
*
Elizabeth sent a note to Lucas Lodge the next day, asking for Charlotte to come so that they could discuss what had happened as the assembly. She was not sure if Charlotte really would come, after what happened—her friend prided herself on her rationality and self-control; a display of sentiment such as that must have embarrassed her as much as it had pleased Elizabeth.
Charlotte defeated her once again—she did come, but with her mother and younger sibilings in tow, leaving little possibility of private discussion. Every detail of the assembly was gone over in detail except those Elizabeth most wanted to discuss.
She could not even take the usual amount of pleasure in Jane’s blushes as Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas commented on Mr Bingley’s preference for her.
“Mr Darcy made himself prodigiously uncivil, did he not?” Mrs Bennet added, when even she considered this topic exhausted. “He called my Lizzy ‘not handsome enough to tempt him’ to dance! One of my girls! Lizzy is not so fine as Jane, I dare say, but he did not even dance with Jane, and all of my girls dance extremely fine.”
“Very disagreeable of him indeed,” Lady Lucas said. “Charlotte, it was courteous of you to try to further your acquaintance with him, but he is obviously above such politeness; though what he meant being so short to you I do not know—surely he knows you are the daughter of a knight and more sensible than to be fortune hunting at your age. There was no call for it!”
“I am sure Charlotte knows she is thought quite plain, not by us my dear, you are our dear friend of course, but I have heard others say it so.”
Charlotte bore these comments with apparent indifference, but Elizabeth fumed. Plain? Charlotte? Perhaps at first glance her features were not extraordinary, or perfectly symmetrical, yet how could anyone observe the glitter of intelligence in Charlotte’s grey eyes, the subtle curve of her mouth when suppressing mirth, and not admire how it transformed her whole face?
Her figure, too, was lithe and elegant; Charlotte always moved gracefully, making even casual walks seem like a dance. Elizabeth found her gaze drawn to Charlotte whenever she entered a room. Plain! To see her mother mention it so shamefully was even more mortifying for how wrong it was.
Elizabeth found the rest of the visit equally unsatisfactory. The only opportunity for private discussion was in the bustle of the Lucases preparing to leave.
Charlotte saw she could not avoid the topic with Elizabeth any longer. “Put it all out of your head, Lizzy—I should not have spoken—forgive me.”
“Charlotte, I—”
“I am nearly an old maid. Even my mother says so. It is for the best.”
“You are not,” Elizabeth said, “and I would not care if you were.”
Charlotte coloured, and quickly busied herself in hurrying her young siblings out the door, leaving Elizabeth staring after her until her mother complained about her letting in the cold and she was obliged to retreat to her room to avoid scrutiny which she could not, at present, meet with any composure.
*
Elizabeth was not prepared to cede all ground to Charlotte, however, and she therefore contrived to call at Lucas Lodge the next day, ostensibly for Charlotte’s assistance with some fine needlework, which she was much better at than Elizabeth.
Charlotte knew exactly what she was about, of course, and attempted to level her a stern look—but was really too pleased to pull it off. She took Lizzy upstairs so that they might work and talk in private. “Lizzy, really. The prospects around here are slim enough without attaching yourself to me.”
“If that is your only objection, then I assure you—”
“No, Lizzy.” Charlotte’s expression was hard, but softened even now when looking at her. “Dear Elizabeth. You may insist you could stand a life of genteel poverty with me, but I could not bare the thought of being the reason for you to be brought so low. Do not push me on this.”
Elizabeth could see that Charlotte was firmly set on this idea; like Jane, she was immovable when she believed herself in the right. Pausing to collect herself, she instead said, “What if we could move in different circles? Say, if Jane and Mr Bingley were really to partner or marry? Mr Bingley might introduce us to a much wider acquaintance in the north or in town. You are the daughter of a knight, and still handsome; I cannot believe your prospects would really be so slim outside Meryton’s limited society.”
“‘Still handsome,’” Charlotte repeated with a smile and a shake of her head. “Only you would say such a thing. Very well, if you truly do insist, then if—only if, mind!—Jane, or any of your sisters I suppose, marries outside our usual society, then we… we may have an understanding.”
She said the last all in a rush and with a violent blush, looking at Elizabeth defiantly as though daring her to realise what a mess she had wandered into. As though Elizabeth had not just experienced a great triumph at the tender age of one-and-twenty!
She could only smile. Seeing her smile, Charlotte somehow coloured even more deeply, but her face broke out into the most beaming of smiles herself.
Elizabeth’s own face was warm, and to stop herself from saying something that would embarrass Charlotte even more, said in a tone of forced cheer and lightness, “Now that we have an understanding about our understanding, will you really help me with this detail work? My flowers always seem to look more like lumpy bees.”
Charlotte laughed and pulled Elizabeth’s cloth towards herself. “I see what you are about. You love me only for my needlework!”
She said it lightly, but the phrase stuck in Elizabeth’s head all afternoon and evening, and her head was still full of it when she got into bed with Jane that night and told her, in whispers, what she and Charlotte had discussed.
You love me.
“Oh Lizzy!” Jane clasped her sister’s hands tightly. “I am so happy for you and Charlotte! You have always looked so well together. To think, my favourite sister and one of my very dear friends might soon be married!”
Elizabeth laughed. “Your optimism soothes me, sister! Do you think Mr Bingley so much in love already?”
“You know that is not what I meant. Mr Bingley is a very amiable man, but I have no claims on him, nor he on me.” Jane’s blush belied her words.
The Bingley sisters had called whilst Elizabeth was out and made their approval of Jane, if not of the rest of the family, known—so said Mary, who had been ordered to observe the sisters closely if they called and to report back to the absent Papa Philips.
“But if Charlotte wants only the chance to meet more eligible men,” Jane continued, “I’m sure our uncles and aunt would have no objection to her staying in town with you, Lizzy, when they realise how important she is to you.”
Elizabeth had not thought of that; before she could run away with the idea, she said firmly, “I will have to ask Charlotte,” as much a rejoinder to herself as to her sister.