IMPROVE YOUR ENGLISH WITH OUR SONGS ARCHIVE OF 200,000 LYRICS
Jane Austen "Mansfield
Park"
Chapter 1
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 an 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 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
disrespectful 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, an 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 professions, Lady Bertram dispatched
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 farther expense to anybody. A niece of ours, Sir
Thomas, I may say, or at least of yours, would not grow up in this
neighbourhood without many advantages. I don’t say she would be so
handsome as her cousins. I dare say she would not; but she would be
introduced into the society of this country under such very favourable
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 dare say 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 provision 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 tomorrow, and make the proposal; and, as soon as
matters are settled, I 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 dare say there
is always some reputable tradesman’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. The
division of gratifying sensations ought not, in strict justice, to have
been equal; for Sir Thomas was fully resolved to be the real and
consistent patron of the selected child, and Mrs. Norris had not the
least intention of being at any expense whatever in her maintenance. As
far as walking, talking, and contriving reached, she was thoroughly
benevolent, and nobody knew better how to dictate liberality to others;
but her love of money was equal to her love of directing, and she knew
quite as well how to save her own as to spend that of her friends.
Having married on a narrower income than she had been used to look
forward to, she had, from the first, fancied a very strict line of
economy necessary; and what was begun as a matter of prudence, soon grew
into a matter of choice, as an object of that needful solicitude which
there were no children to supply. Had there been a family to provide for,
Mrs. Norris might never have saved her money; but having no care of that
kind, there was nothing to impede her frugality, or lessen the comfort
of making a yearly addition to an income which they had never lived up
to. Under this infatuating principle, counteracted by no real affection
for her sister, it was impossible for her to aim at more than the credit
of projecting and arranging so expensive a charity; though perhaps she
might so little know herself as to walk home to the Parsonage, after
this conversation, in the happy belief of being the most liberal-minded
sister and aunt in the world.
When the subject was brought forward again, her views were more fully
explained; and, in reply to Lady Bertram’s calm inquiry of “Where shall
the child come to first, sister, to you or to us?” Sir Thomas heard with
some surprise that it would be totally out of Mrs. Norris’s power to
take any share in the personal charge of her. He had been considering
her as a particularly welcome addition at the Parsonage, as a desirable
companion to an aunt who had no children of her own; but he found
himself wholly mistaken. Mrs. Norris was sorry to say that the little
girl’s staying with them, at least as things then were, was quite out of
the question. Poor Mr. Norris’s indifferent state of health made it an
impossibility: he could no more bear the noise of a child than he could
fly; if, indeed, he should ever get well of his gouty complaints, it
would be a different matter: she should then be glad to take her turn,
and think nothing of the inconvenience; but just now, poor Mr. Norris
took up every moment of her time, and the very mention of such a thing
she was sure would distract him.
“Then she had better come to us,” said Lady Bertram, with the utmost
composure. After a short pause Sir Thomas added with dignity, “Yes, let
her home be in this house. We will endeavour to do our duty by her, and
she will, at least, have the advantage of companions of her own age, and
of a regular instructress.”
“Very true,” cried Mrs. Norris, “which are both very important
considerations; and it will be just the same to Miss Lee whether she has
three girls to teach, or only two—there can be no difference. I only
wish I could be more useful; but you see I do all in my power. I am not
one of those that spare their own trouble; and Nanny shall fetch her,
however it may put me to inconvenience to have my chief counsellor away
for three days. I suppose, sister, you will put the child in the little
white attic, near the old nurseries. It will be much the best place for
her, so near Miss Lee, and not far from the girls, and close by the
housemaids, who could either of them help to dress her, you know, and
take care of her clothes, for I suppose you would not think it fair to
expect Ellis to wait on her as well as the others. Indeed, I do not see
that you could possibly place her anywhere else.”
Lady Bertram made no opposition.
“I hope she will prove a well-disposed girl,” continued Mrs. Norris,
“and be sensible of her uncommon good fortune in having such friends.”
“Should her disposition be really bad,” said Sir Thomas, “we must not,
for our own children’s sake, continue her in the family; but there is no
reason to expect so great an evil. We shall probably see much to wish
altered in her, and must prepare ourselves for gross ignorance, some
meanness of opinions, and very distressing vulgarity of manner; but
these are not incurable faults; nor, I trust, can they be dangerous for
her associates. Had my daughters been younger than herself, I should
have considered the introduction
of such a companion as a matter of very serious moment; but, as it is, I
hope there can be nothing to fear for them, and everything to hope for
her, from the association.”
“That is exactly what I think,” cried Mrs. Norris, “and what I was
saying to my husband this morning. It will be an education for the
child, said I, only being with her cousins; if Miss Lee taught her
nothing, she would learn to be good and clever from them.”
“I hope she will not tease my poor pug,” said Lady Bertram; “I have but
just got Julia to leave it alone.”
“There will be some difficulty in our way, Mrs. Norris,” observed Sir
Thomas, “as to the distinction proper to be made between the girls as
they grow up: how to preserve in the minds of my daughters the
consciousness of what they are, without making them think too lowly of
their cousin; and how, without depressing her spirits too far, to make
her remember that she is not a Miss Bertram. I should wish to see them
very good friends, and would, on no account, authorise in my girls the
smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they
cannot be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights, and expectations will
always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must
assist us in our endeavours to choose exactly the right line of
conduct.”
Mrs. Norris was quite at his service; and though she perfectly agreed
with him as to its being a most difficult thing, encouraged him to hope
that between them it would be easily managed.
It will be readily believed that Mrs. Norris did not write to her sister
in vain. Mrs. Price seemed rather surprised that a girl should be fixed
on, when she had so many fine boys, but accepted the offer most
thankfully, assuring them of her daughter’s being a very well-disposed,
good-humoured girl, and trusting they would never have cause to throw
her off. She spoke of her farther as somewhat delicate and puny, but was
sanguine in the hope of her being materially better for change of air.
Poor woman! she probably thought change of air might agree with many of
her children.
