Mansfield Park, etc

Introduction

BY AUSTIN DOBSON ILonion MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY iSg8 A U rights reserved First printed in " Afacmillan's Illustrated Standard Novels " 1897 Reprinted

INTRODUCTION.

'Oh, Mr. Bickerstaff,' says the delightfully fatuous Tom Folio of the Tatler, ' what would a man give to see one simile of Virgil writ in his own hand ! ' What, indeed ! one may reply. But the sentiment expressed is by no means the most foolish aspiration of Addison's fantastic 'broker in learning.' To the genuine and reverent lover of letters, as opposed to the mere cackler and virtuoso, there is an exceptional attraction in the manuscript of a work which has taken rank as a classic, and has therefore attained to that eminence of reputation in which everything con nected with its production becomes of interest. There lies before us at this moment a facsimile of Dickens's Christmas Carol — 'my own, and only MS. of the Book,' it is styled — and you may follow step by step his first thoughts, his second thoughts, his final decisions, until, with endless circumvolutions of correction, he arrives at that terminal, ' And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless us every one ! ' which puts the finishing touch to his task — a task, as we know from his biographers, prolonged through several weeks, and broken only by long nocturnal walks.

At South Kensington you may see a sequence of the original MSS. of the novels from the first free and flowing script of Oliver Twist to the last laboured and slow-moving paragraphs of Edwin Drood, and you may trace, if you MANSFIELD PARK will, the gradual signs which show how, as the creative power grew feebler, the effort was increased. We have no such memorials of the author of Mansfield Park. A few lines of facsimile in her nephew's Life serve to exemplify ' her clear, strong handwriting ' ; but though specimens of her manuscript must exist — of Lady Susan, for instance — they have never, as far as we are aware, been submitted for public inspection. It would be of considerable interest to learn whether she wrote readilyor laboriously; whethershecor rected greatly ; whether, in short, those finished little epigrams of hers — to quote her own description of Mr. Collins's com pliments — 'proceeded from the impulse of the moment, or were the result of previous study.' For ourselves, we are disposed to surmise that her work was, as the French say, ' coule d'un jet,' that her sentences had taken precise and definite shape in her head before she set them down, and that her final word was not — like Victor Hugo's, for instance — only the apex of a pyramid of discarded epithets.

But her autographs seldom come into the market, and there are none in the British Museum. There is a fragment of a note to her niece in the Locker-Lampson collection at Rowfant, and a long letter to her sister, invitingly described as treating of her writings, was sold last year at Sotheby's. Something of the story of Mansfield Park has, of necessity, been included in the introductions to those of Miss Austen's books which have preceded the present volume. As will be remembered, it belongs to, and begins, the second group of her novels. The first three of these had been written or sketched before she left Steventon in 1801, when she was twenty-six; the last three belong to the period of her residence at Chawton Cottage, in Hampshire, which commenced in 1809, when she was four-and-thirty. In the interval she had written nothing but the fragment

INTRODUCTION.

reprinted in 187 1 under the title of The Watsons. Whether, as we have already said,1 this long intermission of literary activity — which is really longer than it looks, for she had practically ceased writing for three years before she left Steventon — must be attributed to obstacles in the way of publication, or to the fact that her parents claimed a larger share of her attention, is not now discoverable ; but it may be repeated that, during all this fallow time, her powers of observation must have been maturing, her experience in creasing in scope and variety, and her criticism of life becoming finer and more exact in quality. That there is much appreciable difference in her style there are good reasons for denying, one of the foremost being that, of her first written books, two were certainly revised at Chawton.

But both in Mansfield Park and Emma there is unmistakable evidence of a closer grasp of the plot and a greater attention to its artistic evolution. After Sense and Sensibility was off her hands in 181 1, and Pride and Prejudice had followed in 1813, she seems to have pro ceeded actively with Mansfield Park, which she had commenced in 1812. By the beginning of March 1814 it had apparently been completed, for her brother Henry is reading it approvingly (presumably in manuscript) on a posting journey which she takes with him to London, perhaps in order to arrange for its publication. ' Henry's approbation,' she tells her sister Cassandra at this time, 'is hitherto even equal to my wishes. He says it [Mansfield Park] is different from the other two [novels] ; but does not appear to think it at all inferior.

He has only married Mrs. R[ushworth]. I am afraid he has gone through the most entertaining part, fie took to Lady B[ertram] and Mrs. 1 Introduction to Pride and Prejudice (Macmillan's Illustrated Standard Novels), 1895, X MANSFIELD PARK N[orris] most kindly, and gives great praise to the drawing of the characters. He understands them all, likes Fanny, and, I think, foresees how it will all be.' This quotation is from a letter which is added to the second edition of Mr. Austen -Leigh's Memoir. Another, which must have immediately followed it, is given by Lord Brabourne, and from this we get the brother's progressing verdict. ' Henry has this moment said that he likes my M\ansfield~\ P[ark] better and better; he is in the third volume. I believe now he has changed his mind as to foreseeing the end ; he said yesterday, at least, that he defied anybody to say whether H[enry] C[rawford] would be reformed or would forget Fanny in a fortnight.' Finally, on 9th March, comes : ' Henry has finished Mansfield Park, and his approbation has not lessened.

He found the last half of the last volume extremely interesting.' These quotations, in which the last italics are Miss Austen's own, are notable for two reasons, neither of which concerns the literary value of the fraternal judgment. One is that her references to her works are of the briefest and most casual character ; the other that, whatever the worth of the opinion reproduced, it constitutes the criticism upon which she still mainly relied to gauge the measure of her success. In the next letter, printed by Lord Brabourne, which is dated 13th June, it would seem that the book had then been printed, and, as a matter of fact, it is duly advertised among the Quarterly's ' List of New Publications ' for July, making joint appearance with Madame D'Arblay's now forgotten novel of The Wanderer and the Rosanne of Miss Lætitia Matilda Hawkins.

The publisher of Mansfield Park was the same Mr. Egerton who had issued its two predecessors, and by the middle of November the first edition was all sold. Whether a second edition was to be 'hazarded

INTRODUCTION.

was, however, still matter of debate. ' People,' she says in her modest way, 'are more ready to borrow and praise than to buy, which I cannot wonder at ; but, though I like praise as well as anybody, I like what Edward calls "Pewter" too.' Eventually, towards the close of the following year, a second edition was arranged for, and it was advertised con currently with the new novel of Emma. By this time, however, Miss Austen had changed her publisher. ' I return,' she writes to Mr. John Murray in December 1815, a propos of Emma, ' also Mansfield Park, as ready for a second edition, I believe, as I can make it.' A later letter to the same gentleman inserted in the second edition of Mr. Austen -Leigh's Memoir and dated ist April 181 6, includes a little reference which should properly have had its place in the Introduction to Emma, as it supplies the sequel of that dedication to the Prince Regent, of which, according to His Royal Highness's librarian, Mr. Clarke, the merits of Mansfield Park were the proximate cause.

The First Gentleman in Europe does not seem to have particularly distinguished himself by the manner of his acknowledgment of the honour he had invited. He caused the author to be thanked for the ' handsome copy ' she had sent him of Emma, a neglect of the text which leads her to observe to her correspondent, ' with the least little touch of spleen,' that whatever His Royal Highness might think of her share in the work, that of Mr. Murray had manifestly been approved. Henry Austen was not the only person who did not think Mansfield Park 'at all inferior,' in spite of the fact that the Quarterly reviewer for October 1815 — as already narrated in the Introduction to Emma — refrained from mentioning it in any way.1 Indeed, like all Miss Austen's 1 At the beginning of the Introduction to Emtna mention was MANSFIELD PARK other books, it has its party of preference, and Professor Goldwin Smith tells a story which should make that party even stronger.

It is of a group of literary men at a country house, who, being required to write down the name of the novel which had given them the greatest pleasure, were found to have given no fewer than seven votes to Alansfield Park. The incident would gain in impressiveness if we were also informed how soon it occurred after the publication of the book, and how many voters there were on the occasion ; but in any case the percentage must be abnormal. It is also recorded that Fanny Price was a prime favourite with Sydney Smith, a circumstance which should always count greatly in her favour. It is possible, however, that the modern reader, who has seen many descendants of this young lady, may not be equally impressed. She is certainly drawn with great care and insight But she is neither as brilliant as made of the fact that, although Emma was published in December 1S15, it had been reviewed in the number of the Quarterly for the preceding October ; and it was suggested that this review must have been written from the proofs or the MS.

Miss Austen's letter to Mr. Murray of ist April 1S16, which is quoted above, imported a new difficulty into the question, since, besides referring to the Prince Regent, it thanked Mr. Murray for the review in the Quarterly, and went on : ' The Authoress of Emma has no reason, I think, to complain of her treatment in it, except in the total omission of Mansfield Park. I cannot but be sorry that so clever a man as the reviewer of Emma should consider it as unworthy of being noticed.' This passage makes it plain that, on Ist April 1 8 16, Miss Austen had only very recently been made aware of the existence of the review of October 1815. In these perplexing circumstances the present writer sought counsel of the publisher of the Quarterly, Mr. John Murray, whose ready courtesy and well-arranged records at once supplied the key to the mystery.

Owing to exceptional delays, the Quarterly for October 18 15 was not actually issued to the public until the March of the year following — that is to say, about three months after instead of before the appearance of Emma. Mr. Murray further stated that the article referred to was written by Walter Scott.

INTRODUCTION.

Eliza Bennet nor as animated as Emma Woodhouse, and it is difficult not to suspect that she is rather the result of a preconception — a fixed intention to create a model character of a certain type, than a study from the life. The same may be said of Edmund Bertram. He is evi dently meant to be a gentleman and a better clergyman than Mr. Collins or Mr. Elton or Dr. Grant. But like Fanny Price he also seems to have been drawn less objectively than subjectively ; and both he and Miss Price, when they reflect and moralise, tremble sometimes on the verge of what has been styled ' the discovery of the obvious.' On the other hand, Henry Crawford and his sister are admirable. One sees and recognises them to be real personages. None of the rest come up to these four, though William Price is a pleasant sketch — it may be, an Austen family portrait.

Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram play secondary parts appropriately, and the two handsome Miss Bertrams are good flesh-and-blood examples of the education of the head at the expense of the heart — by which we mean some thing more than that merely physical organ which plays so palpitating a part in the famous Frederick-«;«-Agatha scene of Lovers' Vows. Mr. Rushworth, with his forty-two speeches, and his mother, with her housekeeper patter, are subordinate figures and therefore slightly drawn. But the Collins and Bates and Jennings gallery is admirably reinforced by Mrs. Norris. She is not an amiable character, nor is she in tended to be. But whether she is arranging to provide for Fanny at her brother-in-law's expense ; or cajoling the housekeeper at Sotherton out of the pheasant's eggs which, having been hatched under somebody's hen, are to be reared in somebody else's coop ; or spiriting away the famous green baize curtain which was to have hung in such graceful festoons — she is uniformly diverting.

Her absences MANSFIELD PARK from the stage leave it blanker, and her reappearances are hailed with delight. A word may be added with respect to the play which, upon two occasions in this book, never got beyond a rehearsal. As far as we can remember, Miss Austen does not name the author of Lovers' Vows. It was a translation, duly altered to suit British susceptibilities, from Das Kind der Liebe of Kotzebue, better known in this day as the author of that once popular Stranger in which Mrs. Haller (Miss Emily Fotheringay) captivated Mr. Arthur Pendennis, or of that other almost equally admired tragedy described by Miss Fotheringay's father as Pezawro. There were several English versions of Das Kind der Liebe?- but the only one acted was Mrs. Inchbald's, which had a considerable vogue at Covent Garden in 1798.

This was some years after those private theatricals at Steventon Parsonage, of which the memories no doubt survive in Mansfield Park ; but Miss Austen, besides being an assiduous playgoer when in London, was well posted in the drama of that Kean and Kemble age. Of literary allusion there is more in Mansfield Park than usual, for not only are Scott and Cowper quoted, but Henry Crawford talks sententiously of Shakespeare with Edmund Bertram, and Mary Crawford makes unexpected adaptation from that rather recondite parodist, Isaac Hawkins Browne. In an early chapter there is a reference which reminds us that although it was no longer possible, as in the last century, to send a cow or a housemaid by free post, the old fashioned abuse of franking was still in full vigour, and mention is made elsewhere of that other reprehensible practice of hiding money under a seal which is described 1 This has been translated The Child of Love.

An exacter English equivalent would be that title of ' Love-child,' by which — in the Old Curiosity Shop — Mr. Sampson Brass describes and defines the Marchioness.

INTRODUCTION.

in Trevelyan's Life of Macaulay. ' Macaulay wrote to me at Harrow pretty constantly,' says the biographer, ' sealing his letters with an amorphous mass of red wax, which, in defiance of post-office regulations, not unfre quently concealed a piece of gold.' This is precisely how Edmund Bertram conveys half a guinea to William Price.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE Put round her shoulders by Mr. Crawford's quicker hands Frontispiece In vain did Lady Bertram smile and make her sit on the sofa with herself and Pug . . . . .10 'How much I used to dread riding' . ■. . .23 Attending them to their carriage . . . -39 ' I did not know which way to look ' . . . .44 A circle of admirals . . . . . .54 There were many other views to be shown . . .63 Their road was through a pleasant country . . -73 Convinced him it was an ague, and promised him a charm for it 93 Busy at the pianoforte . . . . -97 Just falling into a gentle doze . . . .113 ' I am to have another fine fancy suit ' . . .124 A most welcome interruption .... 129 ' My father is come ! ' ..... 153 A ranting young man . . . . .161 ' To advise him not to venture ' . . . .168 Good wishes for a pleasant journey .... 173 Dr. Grant himself came out with an umbrella . . .183 ' My dear Sir Thomas, Fanny can walk ' . . .198 MANSFIELD PARK PAGE ' And how do you think I mean to amuse myself, Mary, on the days that I do not hunt ? ' . . . . 205 Both advised Mrs. Norris's continuing where she was . .210 It was Thornton Lacey . . . . .217 Making her see how well it looked .... 233 Conducted to the top of the room .... 248 ' Poor Fanny ! ' cried William . . . 253 Talking over Thursday night . . . ■ .257 She still went on, after a civil reception . . . 270 The note was held out, and must be taken . . . 278 Mrs. Norris called out, ' Stay, stay, Fanny ! don't be in such a hurry' ....... 292 Receiving a welcome . . . . .301 She said nothing but, ' Sad, sad, girl ' . . . 322 William and Fanny were horror-struck at the idea . . 336 Mr. Price kicked away his son's portmanteau and his daughter's band-box ...... 343 Mrs. Price, Rebecca, and Betsey all went up to defend themselves, all talking together .... 346 Fanny was obliged to introduce him to Mr. Crawford . 364 Only discomposed if she saw Rebecca pass by with a flower in her hat ....... 370 ' There (holding out the paper to her) — much good may such fine relations do you ' . . . . . 397 ' No wonder — you must feel it ' . . . 404 ' Mr. Bertram,' said she, with a smile . . .415 Sitting under trees with Fanny . . . .419

Chapter I About

thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet's lady, with all the comforts and consequences of a handsome house and large income. All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match ; and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. She had two sisters to be benefited by her elevation ; and such of their acquaintance as thought Miss Ward and Miss Frances quite as handsome as Miss Maria, did not scruple to predict their marrying with almost equal advantage. But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them.

Miss Ward, at the end of half a dozen years, found herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law, with scarcely any private fortune, and Miss Frances fared yet worse. Miss Ward's match, indeed, when it came to the point, was not contemptible, Sir Thomas being happily able to give his friend an income in the living of Mansfield ; and Mr. and Mrs. Norris began their career of conjugal felicity with very little less than a thousand a year. But Miss Frances married, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family, and by fixing on a Lieutenant of Marines, without education, fortune, or connections, did it very thoroughly. She could hardly have made a more untoward choice. Sir Thomas Bertram had interest, which, from principle as well as pride, from a general wish of doing right, and a desire of seeing all that B i & were connected with him in situations of respectability, he would have been glad to exert for the advantage of Lady Bertram's sister : but her husband's profession was such as no interest could reach ; and before he had time to devise any other method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place.

It was the natural result of the conduct of each party, and such as a very imprudent marriage almost always produces. To save herself from useless remonstrance, Mrs. Price never wrote to her family on the subject till actually married. Lady Bertram, who was a woman of very tranquil feelings, and a temper remarkably easy and indolent, would have contented herself with merely giving up her sister, and thinking no more of the matter : but Mrs. Norris had a spirit of activity, which could not be satisfied till she had written a long and angry letter to Fanny, to point out the folly of her conduct, and threaten her with all its possible ill consequences. Mrs. Price, in her turn, was injured and angry ; and an answer, which comprehended each sister in its bitterness, and bestowed such very disre spectful reflections on the pride of Sir Thomas as Mrs. Norris could not possibly keep to herself, put an end to all intercourse between them for a considerable period.

Their homes were so distant, and the circles in which they moved so distinct, as almost to preclude the means of ever hearing of each other's existence during the eleven following years, or at least to make it very wonderful to Sir Thomas that Mrs. Norris should ever have it in her power to tell them, as she now and then did in an angry voice, that Fanny had got another child. By the end of eleven years, however, Mrs. Price could no longer afford to cherish pride or resentment, or to lose one connection that might possibly assist her. A large and still increasing family, a husband disabled for active service, but not the less equal to company and good liquor, and a very small income to supply their wants, made her eager to regain the friends she had so carelessly sacrificed ; and she addressed Lady Bertram in a letter which spoke so much contrition and despondence, such a superfluity of children, and such a want of almost everything else, as could not but dispose them all to a reconciliation.

She was preparing for her ninth lying-in ; and after bewailing the circumstance, and imploring their countenance as sponsors to the expected child, she could not conceal how important she felt they might be to the future maintenance of the eight already in being. Her eldest was a boy of ten years old, a fine spirited fellow, who longed to be out in the world ; but what could she do ? Was there any chance of his being hereafter useful to Sir Thomas in the concerns of his West Indian property ? No situation would be beneath him — or what did Sir Thomas think of Woolwich ? or how could a boy be sent out to the East ? The letter was not unproductive. It re-established peace and kindness. Sir Thomas sent friendly advice and pro fessions, Lady Bertram despatched money and baby-linen, and Mrs. Norris wrote the letters.

Such were its immediate effects, and within a twelvemonth a more important advantage to Mrs. Price resulted from it. Mrs. Norris was often observing to the others that she could not get her poor sister and her family out of her head, and that, much as they had all done for her, she seemed to be wanting to do more ; and at length she could not but own it to be her wish that poor Mrs. Price should be relieved from the charge and expense of one child entirely out of her great number. ' What if they were among them to undertake the care of her eldest daughter, a girl now nine years old, of an age to require more attention than her poor mother could possibly give ? The trouble and expense of it to them would be nothing, compared with the benevolence of the action.' Lady Bertram agreed with her instantly. ' I think we cannot do better,' said she ; ' let us send for the child.' Sir Thomas could not give so instantaneous and unqualified a consent.

He debated and hesitated : — it was a serious charge ; — a girl so brought up must be adequately provided for, or there would be cruelty instead of kindness in taking her from her family. He thought of his own four children— of his two sons — of cousins in love, etc.; — but no sooner had he deliberately begun to state his objections, than Mrs. Norris interrupted him with a reply to them all, whether stated or not. ' My dear Sir Thomas, I perfectly comprehend you, and do justice to the generosity and delicacy of your notions, which indeed are quite of a piece with your general conduct ; and I entirely agree with you in the main as to the propriety of doing everything one could by way of providing for a child one had in a manner taken into one's own hands ; and I am sure I should be the last person in the world to withhold my mite upon such an occasion.

Having no children of my own, who should I look to in any little matter I may ever have to bestow, but the children of my sisters ? and I am sure Mr. Norris is too just — but you know I am a woman of few words and professions. Do not let us be frightened from a good deed by a trifle. Give a girl an education, and introduce her properly into the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well, without further expense to anybody. A niece of ours, Sir Thomas, I may say, or, at least, oi yours, would not grow up in this neighbourhood without many advantages. I don't say she would be so handsome as her cousins. I daresay she would not ; but she would be introduced into the society of this country under such very favour able circumstances as, in all human probability, would get her a creditable establishment.

You are thinking of your sons — but do not you know that of all things upon earth that is the least likely to happen ; brought up, as they would be, always together like brothers and sisters ? It is morally impossible. I never knew an instance of it. It is, in fact, the only sure way of providing against the connection. Suppose her a pretty girl, and seen by Tom or Edmund for the first time seven years hence, and I daresay there would be mischief. The very idea of her having been suffered to grow up at a distance from us all in poverty and neglect would be enough to make either of the dear, sweet-tempered boys in love with her. But breed her up with them from this time, and suppose her even to have the beauty of an angel, and she will never be more to either than a sister.' ' There is a great deal of truth in what you say,' replied Sir Thomas, ' and far be it from me to throw any fanciful impediment in the way of a plan which would be so consistent with the relative situations of each.

I only meant to observe that it ought not to be lightly engaged in, and that to make it really serviceable to Mrs. Price, and creditable to ourselves, we must secure to the child, or consider ourselves engaged to secure to her hereafter, as circumstances may arise, the pro vision of a gentlewoman, if no such establishment should offer as you are so sanguine in expecting.' ' I thoroughly understand you,' cried Mrs. Norris ; ' you are everything that is generous and considerate, and I am sure we shall never disagree on this point. Whatever I can do, as you well know, I am always ready enough to do for the good of those I love ; and, though I could never feel for this little girl the hundredth part of the regard I bear your own dear children, nor consider her, in any respect, so much my own, I should hate myself if I were capable of neglecting her.

Is not she a sister's child ? and could I bear to see her want, while I had a bit of bread to give her ? My dear Sir Thomas, with all my faults I have a warm heart ; and, poor as I am, would rather deny myself the necessaries of life, than do an ungenerous thing. So, if you are not against it, I will write to my poor sister to-morrow, and make the proposal ; and, as soon as matters are settled, / will engage to get the child to Mansfield ; you shall have no trouble about it. My own trouble, you know, I never, regard. I will send Nanny to London on purpose, and she may have a bed at her cousin the saddler's, and the child be appointed to meet her there. They may easily get her from Portsmouth to town by the coach, under the care of any creditable person that may chance to be going. I daresay there is always some reputable trades man's wife or other going up.' Except to the attack on Nanny's cousin, Sir Thomas no longer made any objection, and a more respectable though less economical rendezvous being accordingly substituted, everything was considered as settled, and the pleasures of so benevolent a scheme were already enjoyed.