Persuasion E-Book

Jane Austen.

• Herausgeber: Madeley publishing
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Persuasion is the last novel completed by the English author Jane Austen. It was published on 20 December 1817, along with  Northanger Abbey, six months after her death, although the title page is dated 1818.
The story concerns Anne Elliot, an Englishwoman of 27 years, whose family moves to lower their expenses and reduce their debt by renting their home to an admiral and his wife. The wife's brother, Captain Frederick Wentworth, was engaged to Anne in 1806, but the engagement was broken when Anne was persuaded by her friends and family to end their relationship. Anne and Captain Wentworth, both single and unattached, meet again after a separation lasting almost eight years, setting the scene for a second, well-considered chance at love and marriage for Anne.

Leseprobe

Persuasion

––––––––

by Jane Austen

Madeley publishing

Contents

Jane Austen Biography

Jane Austen Interesting Facts

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Jane Austen Biography

Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775, in Steventon, Hampshire, England. While not widely known in her own time, Austen's comic novels of love among the landed gentry gained popularity after 1869, and her reputation skyrocketed in the 20th century. Her novels, including Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility, are considered literary classics, bridging the gap between romance and realism.

The seventh child and second daughter of Cassandra and George Austen, Jane Austen was born on December 16, 1775, in Steventon, Hampshire, England. Jane's parents were well-respected community members. Her father served as the Oxford-educated rector for a nearby Anglican parish. The family was close and the children grew up in an environment that stressed learning and creative thinking. When Jane was young, she and her siblings were encouraged to read from their father's extensive library. The children also authored and put on plays and charades.

Over the span of her life, Jane would become especially close to her father and older sister, Cassandra. Indeed, she and Cassandra would one day collaborate on a published work.

In order to acquire a more formal education, Jane and Cassandra were sent to boarding schools during Jane's pre-adolescence. During this time, Jane and her sister caught typhus, with Jane nearly succumbing to the illness. After a short period of formal education cut short by financial constraints, they returned home and lived with the family from that time forward.

Ever fascinated by the world of stories, Jane began to write in bound notebooks. In the 1790s, during her adolescence, she started to craft her own novels and wrote Love and Freindship [sic], a parody of romantic fiction organized as a series of love letters. Using that framework, she unveiled her wit and dislike of sensibility, or romantic hysteria, a distinct perspective that would eventually characterize much of her later writing. The next year she wrote The History of England..., a 34-page parody of historical writing that included illustrations drawn by Cassandra. These notebooks, encompassing the novels as well as short stories, poems and plays, are now referred to as Jane's Juvenilia.

Jane spent much of her early adulthood helping run the family home, playing piano, attending church, and socializing with neighbours.

Steventon Church, as depicted in A Memoir of Jane Austen.

Her nights and weekends often involved cotillions, and as a result, she became an accomplished dancer. On other evenings, she would choose a novel from the shelf and read it aloud to her family, occasionally one she had written herself. She continued to write, developing her style in more ambitious works such as Lady Susan, another epistolary story about a manipulative woman who uses her sexuality, intelligence and charm to have her way with others. Jane also started to write some of her future major works, the first called Elinor and Marianne, another story told as a series of letters, which would eventually be published as Sense and Sensibility. She began drafts of First Impressions, which would later be published as Pride and Prejudice, and Susan, later published as Northanger Abbey by Jane's brother, Henry, following Jane's death.

In 1801, Jane moved to Bath with her father, mother and Cassandra. Then, in 1805, her father died after a short illness. As a result, the family was thrust into financial straits; the three women moved from place to place, skipping between the homes of various family members to rented flats. It was not until 1809 that they were able to settle into a stable living situation at Jane's brother Edward's cottage in Chawton.

Now in her 30s, Jane started to anonymously publish her works. In the period spanning 1811-16, she pseudonymously published Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prejudice (a work she referred to as her "darling child," which also received critical acclaim), Mansfield Park and Emma.

In 1816, at the age of 41, Jane started to become ill with what some say might have been Addison's disease. She made impressive efforts to continue working at a normal pace, editing older works as well as starting a new novel called The Brothers, which would be published after her death as Sanditon. Another novel, Persuasion, would also be published posthumously. At some point, Jane's condition deteriorated to such a degree that she ceased writing. She died on July 18, 1817, in Winchester, Hampshire, England.

Jane Austen Interesting Facts

Help from the family

When Austen penned First Impressions, the book that would become Pride and Prejudice, in 1797, her proud farther George took it to a London publisher named Thomas Cadell for review. Cadell rejected it unread. It's not clear if Jane was even aware that George approached Cadell on her behalf.

Much later, in 1810, her brother Henry would act as her literary agent, selling Sense and Sensibility to London publisher Thomas Egerton.

Anonymous publications

From Sense and Sensibility through Emma, Austen's published works never bore her name. Sense and Sensibility carried the byline of "A Lady," while later works like Pride and Prejudice featured credits like, "By the Author of Sense and Sensibility."

Backing out of marriage

The year after her family's move to the city of Bath in 1801, Austen received a proposal of marriage from Harris Bigg-Wither, a financially prosperous childhood friend.

A 10 year break

When her family moved to Bath and subsequently kept relocating following her father's death in 1805, Austen's writing habits were severely disrupted. Once prolific—she completed three of her novels by 1801—a lack of a routine kept her from producing work for roughly 10 years. It wasn't until she felt her home life was stable after moving into property owned by her brother, Edward, that Austen resumed her career.

Straight pins

For an unfinished novel titled The Watsons, Austen took the pins and used them to fasten revisions to the pages of areas that were in need of correction or rewrites. The practice dates back to the 17th century.

Home brewing

In Austen's time, beer was the drink of choice, and like the rest of her family, Austen could brew her own beer. Her specialty was spruce beer, which was made with molasses for a slightly sweeter taste.

Poison

Austen lived to see only four of her six novels published. She died on July 18, 1817 at the age of 41 following complaints of symptoms that medical historians have long felt pointed to Addison's disease or Hodgkin's lymphoma. In 2017, the British Library floated a different theory—that Austen was poisoned by arsenic in her drinking water due to a polluted supply or possibly accidental ingestion due to mismanaged medication.

Court decisions

Jurists often use Austen as a kind of shorthand to explain matters involving relationships or class distinctions. Half of the decisions used the opening line from Pride and Prejudice: "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."

Chapter 1

Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who,

for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage;

there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a

distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and

respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents;

there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs

changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over

the almost endless creations of the last century; and there,

if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history

with an interest which never failed. This was the page at which

the favourite volume always opened:

"ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL.

"Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth,

daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of

Gloucester, by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth,

born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son,

November 5, 1789; Mary, born November 20, 1791."

Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's hands;

but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of

himself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth—

"Married, December 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles

Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,"

and by inserting most accurately the day of the month on which

he had lost his wife.

Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable family,

in the usual terms; how it had been first settled in Cheshire;

how mentioned in Dugdale, serving the office of high sheriff,

representing a borough in three successive parliaments,

exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first year

of Charles II, with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married;

forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with

the arms and motto:—"Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county

of Somerset," and Sir Walter's handwriting again in this finale:—

"Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of

the second Sir Walter."

Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character;

vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome

in his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man.

Few women could think more of their personal appearance than he did,

nor could the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with

the place he held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty

as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot,

who united these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect

and devotion.

His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment;

since to them he must have owed a wife of very superior character

to any thing deserved by his own. Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman,

sensible and amiable; whose judgement and conduct, if they might be

pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot,

had never required indulgence afterwards.—She had humoured,

or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real

respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest

being in the world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends,

and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of

indifference to her when she was called on to quit them.

—Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy

for a mother to bequeath, an awful charge rather, to confide to

the authority and guidance of a conceited, silly father.

She had, however, one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman,

who had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settle

close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness and advice,

Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and maintenance of

the good principles and instruction which she had been anxiously

giving her daughters.

This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have been

anticipated on that head by their acquaintance. Thirteen years

had passed away since Lady Elliot's death, and they were still

near neighbours and intimate friends, and one remained a widower,

the other a widow.

That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremely

well provided for, should have no thought of a second marriage,

needs no apology to the public, which is rather apt to be unreasonably

discontented when a woman does marry again, than when she does not;

but Sir Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation.

Be it known then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met with

one or two private disappointments in very unreasonable applications),

prided himself on remaining single for his dear daughters' sake.

For one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up any thing,

which he had not been very much tempted to do. Elizabeth had succeeded,

at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rights

and consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself,

her influence had always been great, and they had gone on together

most happily. His two other children were of very inferior value.

Mary had acquired a little artificial importance, by becoming

Mrs Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness

of character, which must have placed her high with any people

of real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister;

her word had no weight, her convenience was always to give way—

she was only Anne.

To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valued

god-daughter, favourite, and friend. Lady Russell loved them all;

but it was only in Anne that she could fancy the mother to revive again.

A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl,

but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in its height,

her father had found little to admire in her, (so totally different

were her delicate features and mild dark eyes from his own),

there could be nothing in them, now that she was faded and thin,

to excite his esteem. He had never indulged much hope, he had now none,

of ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite work.

All equality of alliance must rest with Elizabeth, for Mary had merely

connected herself with an old country family of respectability and

large fortune, and had therefore given all the honour and received none:

Elizabeth would, one day or other, marry suitably.

It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than

she was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been

neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any

charm is lost. It was so with Elizabeth, still the same handsome

Miss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago, and Sir Walter

might be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least,

be deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabeth

as blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of everybody else;

for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family and

acquaintance were growing. Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every face

in the neighbourhood worsting, and the rapid increase of the crow's foot

about Lady Russell's temples had long been a distress to him.

Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment.

Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and

directing with a self-possession and decision which could never have given

the idea of her being younger than she was. For thirteen years had

she been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home,

and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking immediately after

Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms and dining-rooms in the country.

Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had seen her opening every ball

of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded, and thirteen springs

shewn their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her father,

for a few weeks' annual enjoyment of the great world. She had

the remembrance of all this, she had the consciousness of being

nine-and-twenty to give her some regrets and some apprehensions;

she was fully satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever,

but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would have rejoiced

to be certain of being properly solicited by baronet-blood within

the next twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take up

the book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth,

but now she liked it not. Always to be presented with the date of

her own birth and see no marriage follow but that of a youngest sister,

made the book an evil; and more than once, when her father had left it

open on the table near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes,

and pushed it away.

She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book,

and especially the history of her own family, must ever present

the remembrance of. The heir presumptive, the very William Walter

Elliot, Esq., whose rights had been so generously supported

by her father, had disappointed her.

She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be,

in the event of her having no brother, the future baronet,

meant to marry him, and her father had always meant that she should.

He had not been known to them as a boy; but soon after Lady Elliot's death,

Sir Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures

had not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it,

making allowance for the modest drawing-back of youth; and, in one of

their spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom,

Mr Elliot had been forced into the introduction.

He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law;

and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour

was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of

and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came.

The following spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable,

again encouraged, invited, and expected, and again he did not come;

and the next tidings were that he was married. Instead of pushing

his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of Elliot,

he had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman

of inferior birth.

Sir Walter has resented it. As the head of the house, he felt that

he ought to have been consulted, especially after taking the young man

so publicly by the hand; "For they must have been seen together,"

he observed, "once at Tattersall's, and twice in the lobby of

the House of Commons." His disapprobation was expressed,

but apparently very little regarded. Mr Elliot had attempted no apology,

and shewn himself as unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family,

as Sir Walter considered him unworthy of it: all acquaintance between

them had ceased.

This very awkward history of Mr Elliot was still, after an interval

of several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the man

for himself, and still more for being her father's heir, and whose

strong family pride could see only in him a proper match for Sir Walter

Elliot's eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z whom

her feelings could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal.

Yet so miserably had he conducted himself, that though she was

at this present time (the summer of 1814) wearing black ribbons

for his wife, she could not admit him to be worth thinking of again.

The disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there was

no reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have been got over,

had he not done worse; but he had, as by the accustomary intervention

of kind friends, they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully

of them all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very blood

he belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter to be his own.

This could not be pardoned.

Such were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations; such the cares

to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance,

the prosperity and the nothingness of her scene of life;

such the feelings to give interest to a long, uneventful residence

in one country circle, to fill the vacancies which there were no habits

of utility abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy.

But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to be

added to these. Her father was growing distressed for money.

She knew, that when he now took up the Baronetage, it was to drive

the heavy bills of his tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints of

Mr Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts. The Kellynch property was good,

but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state required

in its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method,

moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income;

but with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that period

he had been constantly exceeding it. It had not been possible

for him to spend less; he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot

was imperiously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he was

not only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often,

that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even partially,

from his daughter. He had given her some hints of it the last spring

in town; he had gone so far even as to say, "Can we retrench?

Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which

we can retrench?" and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first

ardour of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be done,

and had finally proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off

some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing

the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added

the happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne,

as had been the usual yearly custom. But these measures,

however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real extent

of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found himself obliged

to confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth had nothing to propose

of deeper efficacy. She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate,

as did her father; and they were neither of them able to devise

any means of lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity,

or relinquishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.

There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of;

but had every acre been alienable, it would have made no difference.

He had condescended to mortgage as far as he had the power,

but he would never condescend to sell. No; he would never disgrace

his name so far. The Kellynch estate should be transmitted whole

and entire, as he had received it.

Their two confidential friends, Mr Shepherd, who lived in

the neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were called to advise them;

and both father and daughter seemed to expect that something should be

struck out by one or the other to remove their embarrassments

and reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss of

any indulgence of taste or pride.

Chapter 2

Mr Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever might be his hold

or his views on Sir Walter, would rather have the disagreeable

prompted by anybody else, excused himself from offering the slightest hint,

and only begged leave to recommend an implicit reference to

the excellent judgement of Lady Russell, from whose known good sense

he fully expected to have just such resolute measures advised as

he meant to see finally adopted.

Lady Russell was most anxiously zealous on the subject, and gave it

much serious consideration. She was a woman rather of sound than of

quick abilities, whose difficulties in coming to any decision

in this instance were great, from the opposition of two leading principles.

She was of strict integrity herself, with a delicate sense of honour;

but she was as desirous of saving Sir Walter's feelings, as solicitous

for the credit of the family, as aristocratic in her ideas of what

was due to them, as anybody of sense and honesty could well be.

She was a benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of

strong attachments, most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions

of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of good-breeding.

She had a cultivated mind, and was, generally speaking,

rational and consistent; but she had prejudices on the side of ancestry;

she had a value for rank and consequence, which blinded her a little

to the faults of those who possessed them. Herself the widow of

only a knight, she gave the dignity of a baronet all its due;

and Sir Walter, independent of his claims as an old acquaintance,

an attentive neighbour, an obliging landlord, the husband of her

very dear friend, the father of Anne and her sisters, was,

as being Sir Walter, in her apprehension, entitled to a great deal

of compassion and consideration under his present difficulties.

They must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt. But she was

very anxious to have it done with the least possible pain to him

and Elizabeth. She drew up plans of economy, she made exact calculations,

and she did what nobody else thought of doing: she consulted Anne,

who never seemed considered by the others as having any interest

in the question. She consulted, and in a degree was influenced by her

in marking out the scheme of retrenchment which was at last submitted

to Sir Walter. Every emendation of Anne's had been on the side of

honesty against importance. She wanted more vigorous measures,

a more complete reformation, a quicker release from debt,

a much higher tone of indifference for everything but justice and equity.

"If we can persuade your father to all this," said Lady Russell,

looking over her paper, "much may be done. If he will adopt

these regulations, in seven years he will be clear; and I hope

we may be able to convince him and Elizabeth, that Kellynch Hall has

a respectability in itself which cannot be affected by these reductions;

and that the true dignity of Sir Walter Elliot will be very far from

lessened in the eyes of sensible people, by acting like a man of principle.

What will he be doing, in fact, but what very many of our first families

have done, or ought to do? There will be nothing singular in his case;

and it is singularity which often makes the worst part of our suffering,

as it always does of our conduct. I have great hope of prevailing.

We must be serious and decided; for after all, the person who

has contracted debts must pay them; and though a great deal is due to

the feelings of the gentleman, and the head of a house, like your father,

there is still more due to the character of an honest man."

This was the principle on which Anne wanted her father to be proceeding,

his friends to be urging him. She considered it as an act

of indispensable duty to clear away the claims of creditors with

all the expedition which the most comprehensive retrenchments

could secure, and saw no dignity in anything short of it.

She wanted it to be prescribed, and felt as a duty. She rated

Lady Russell's influence highly; and as to the severe degree

of self-denial which her own conscience prompted, she believed

there might be little more difficulty in persuading them to a complete,

than to half a reformation. Her knowledge of her father

and Elizabeth inclined her to think that the sacrifice of one pair

of horses would be hardly less painful than of both, and so on,

through the whole list of Lady Russell's too gentle reductions.

How Anne's more rigid requisitions might have been taken

is of little consequence. Lady Russell's had no success at all:

could not be put up with, were not to be borne. "What! every comfort

of life knocked off! Journeys, London, servants, horses, table—

contractions and restrictions every where! To live no longer

with the decencies even of a private gentleman! No, he would sooner

quit Kellynch Hall at once, than remain in it on such disgraceful terms."

"Quit Kellynch Hall." The hint was immediately taken up by Mr Shepherd,

whose interest was involved in the reality of Sir Walter's retrenching,

and who was perfectly persuaded that nothing would be done without

a change of abode. "Since the idea had been started in the very quarter

which ought to dictate, he had no scruple," he said, "in confessing

his judgement to be entirely on that side. It did not appear to him

that Sir Walter could materially alter his style of living in a house

which had such a character of hospitality and ancient dignity to support.

In any other place Sir Walter might judge for himself; and would

be looked up to, as regulating the modes of life in whatever way

he might choose to model his household."

Sir Walter would quit Kellynch Hall; and after a very few days more

of doubt and indecision, the great question of whither he should go

was settled, and the first outline of this important change made out.

There had been three alternatives, London, Bath, or another house

in the country. All Anne's wishes had been for the latter.

A small house in their own neighbourhood, where they might still have

Lady Russell's society, still be near Mary, and still have the pleasure

of sometimes seeing the lawns and groves of Kellynch, was the object

of her ambition. But the usual fate of Anne attended her,

in having something very opposite from her inclination fixed on.

She disliked Bath, and did not think it agreed with her;

and Bath was to be her home.

Sir Walter had at first thought more of London; but Mr Shepherd felt

that he could not be trusted in London, and had been skilful enough

to dissuade him from it, and make Bath preferred. It was a much safer

place for a gentleman in his predicament: he might there be important

at comparatively little expense. Two material advantages of Bath

over London had of course been given all their weight: its more convenient

distance from Kellynch, only fifty miles, and Lady Russell's spending

some part of every winter there; and to the very great satisfaction

of Lady Russell, whose first views on the projected change had been

for Bath, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were induced to believe that

they should lose neither consequence nor enjoyment by settling there.

Lady Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear Anne's known wishes.

It would be too much to expect Sir Walter to descend into a small house

in his own neighbourhood. Anne herself would have found

the mortifications of it more than she foresaw, and to Sir Walter's

feelings they must have been dreadful. And with regard to Anne's

dislike of Bath, she considered it as a prejudice and mistake arising,

first, from the circumstance of her having been three years

at school there, after her mother's death; and secondly,

from her happening to be not in perfectly good spirits the only winter

which she had afterwards spent there with herself.

Lady Russell was fond of Bath, in short, and disposed to think

it must suit them all; and as to her young friend's health,

by passing all the warm months with her at Kellynch Lodge,

every danger would be avoided; and it was in fact, a change which must

do both health and spirits good. Anne had been too little from home,

too little seen. Her spirits were not high. A larger society

would improve them. She wanted her to be more known.

The undesirableness of any other house in the same neighbourhood

for Sir Walter was certainly much strengthened by one part,

and a very material part of the scheme, which had been happily

engrafted on the beginning. He was not only to quit his home,

but to see it in the hands of others; a trial of fortitude,

which stronger heads than Sir Walter's have found too much.

Kellynch Hall was to be let. This, however, was a profound secret,

not to be breathed beyond their own circle.

Sir Walter could not have borne the degradation of being known

to design letting his house. Mr Shepherd had once mentioned the word

"advertise," but never dared approach it again. Sir Walter spurned

the idea of its being offered in any manner; forbad the slightest hint

being dropped of his having such an intention; and it was only on

the supposition of his being spontaneously solicited by some most

unexceptionable applicant, on his own terms, and as a great favour,

that he would let it at all.

How quick come the reasons for approving what we like! Lady Russell had

another excellent one at hand, for being extremely glad that Sir Walter

and his family were to remove from the country. Elizabeth had been

lately forming an intimacy, which she wished to see interrupted.

It was with the daughter of Mr Shepherd, who had returned,

after an unprosperous marriage, to her father's house, with

the additional burden of two children. She was a clever young woman,

who understood the art of pleasing—the art of pleasing, at least,

at Kellynch Hall; and who had made herself so acceptable to Miss Elliot,

as to have been already staying there more than once, in spite of all

that Lady Russell, who thought it a friendship quite out of place,

could hint of caution and reserve.

Lady Russell, indeed, had scarcely any influence with Elizabeth,

and seemed to love her, rather because she would love her,

than because Elizabeth deserved it. She had never received from her more

than outward attention, nothing beyond the observances of complaisance;

had never succeeded in any point which she wanted to carry,

against previous inclination. She had been repeatedly very earnest

in trying to get Anne included in the visit to London, sensibly open

to all the injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrangements

which shut her out, and on many lesser occasions had endeavoured

to give Elizabeth the advantage of her own better judgement and experience;

but always in vain: Elizabeth would go her own way; and never had she

pursued it in more decided opposition to Lady Russell than in

this selection of Mrs Clay; turning from the society of so deserving

a sister, to bestow her affection and confidence on one who ought

to have been nothing to her but the object of distant civility.

From situation, Mrs Clay was, in Lady Russell's estimate, a very unequal,

and in her character she believed a very dangerous companion;

and a removal that would leave Mrs Clay behind, and bring a choice

of more suitable intimates within Miss Elliot's reach, was therefore

an object of first-rate importance.

Chapter 3

"I must take leave to observe, Sir Walter," said Mr Shepherd

one morning at Kellynch Hall, as he laid down the newspaper,

"that the present juncture is much in our favour. This peace will

be turning all our rich naval officers ashore. They will be

all wanting a home. Could not be a better time, Sir Walter,

for having a choice of tenants, very responsible tenants.

Many a noble fortune has been made during the war. If a rich admiral

were to come in our way, Sir Walter—"

"He would be a very lucky man, Shepherd," replied Sir Walter;

"that's all I have to remark. A prize indeed would Kellynch Hall

be to him; rather the greatest prize of all, let him have taken

ever so many before; hey, Shepherd?"

Mr Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, and then added—

"I presume to observe, Sir Walter, that, in the way of business,

gentlemen of the navy are well to deal with. I have had a little knowledge

of their methods of doing business; and I am free to confess that they

have very liberal notions, and are as likely to make desirable tenants

as any set of people one should meet with. Therefore, Sir Walter,

what I would take leave to suggest is, that if in consequence of

any rumours getting abroad of your intention; which must be contemplated

as a possible thing, because we know how difficult it is to keep

the actions and designs of one part of the world from the notice

and curiosity of the other; consequence has its tax; I, John Shepherd,

might conceal any family-matters that I chose, for nobody would think it

worth their while to observe me; but Sir Walter Elliot has eyes upon him

which it may be very difficult to elude; and therefore, thus much

I venture upon, that it will not greatly surprise me if,

with all our caution, some rumour of the truth should get abroad;

in the supposition of which, as I was going to observe, since applications

will unquestionably follow, I should think any from our wealthy

naval commanders particularly worth attending to; and beg leave to add,

that two hours will bring me over at any time, to save you

the trouble of replying."

Sir Walter only nodded. But soon afterwards, rising and pacing the room,

he observed sarcastically—

"There are few among the gentlemen of the navy, I imagine, who would

not be surprised to find themselves in a house of this description."

"They would look around them, no doubt, and bless their good fortune,"

said Mrs Clay, for Mrs Clay was present: her father had driven her over,

nothing being of so much use to Mrs Clay's health as a drive to Kellynch:

"but I quite agree with my father in thinking a sailor might be

a very desirable tenant. I have known a good deal of the profession;

and besides their liberality, they are so neat and careful

in all their ways! These valuable pictures of yours, Sir Walter,

if you chose to leave them, would be perfectly safe. Everything in

and about the house would be taken such excellent care of!

The gardens and shrubberies would be kept in almost as high order

as they are now. You need not be afraid, Miss Elliot, of your own

sweet flower gardens being neglected."

"As to all that," rejoined Sir Walter coolly, "supposing I were induced

to let my house, I have by no means made up my mind as to the privileges

to be annexed to it. I am not particularly disposed to favour a tenant.

The park would be open to him of course, and few navy officers,

or men of any other description, can have had such a range;

but what restrictions I might impose on the use of the pleasure-grounds,

is another thing. I am not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being

always approachable; and I should recommend Miss Elliot to be on her guard

with respect to her flower garden. I am very little disposed

to grant a tenant of Kellynch Hall any extraordinary favour,

I assure you, be he sailor or soldier."

After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say—

"In all these cases, there are established usages which

make everything plain and easy between landlord and tenant.

Your interest, Sir Walter, is in pretty safe hands. Depend upon me

for taking care that no tenant has more than his just rights.

I venture to hint, that Sir Walter Elliot cannot be half so jealous

for his own, as John Shepherd will be for him."

Here Anne spoke—

"The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, have at least

an equal claim with any other set of men, for all the comforts and

all the privileges which any home can give. Sailors work hard enough

for their comforts, we must all allow."

"Very true, very true. What Miss Anne says, is very true,"

was Mr Shepherd's rejoinder, and "Oh! certainly," was his daughter's;

but Sir Walter's remark was, soon afterwards—

"The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see

any friend of mine belonging to it."

"Indeed!" was the reply, and with a look of surprise.

"Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong grounds

of objection to it. First, as being the means of bringing persons

of obscure birth into undue distinction, and raising men to honours

which their fathers and grandfathers never dreamt of; and secondly,

as it cuts up a man's youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old

sooner than any other man. I have observed it all my life.

A man is in greater danger in the navy of being insulted by the rise

of one whose father, his father might have disdained to speak to,

and of becoming prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in

any other line. One day last spring, in town, I was in company

with two men, striking instances of what I am talking of;

Lord St Ives, whose father we all know to have been a country curate,

without bread to eat; I was to give place to Lord St Ives,

and a certain Admiral Baldwin, the most deplorable-looking personage

you can imagine; his face the colour of mahogany, rough and rugged

to the last degree; all lines and wrinkles, nine grey hairs of a side,

and nothing but a dab of powder at top. `In the name of heaven,

who is that old fellow?' said I to a friend of mine who was standing near,

(Sir Basil Morley). `Old fellow!' cried Sir Basil, `it is Admiral Baldwin.

What do you take his age to be?' `Sixty,' said I, `or perhaps sixty-two.'

`Forty,' replied Sir Basil, `forty, and no more.' Picture to yourselves

my amazement; I shall not easily forget Admiral Baldwin.

I never saw quite so wretched an example of what a sea-faring life can do;

but to a degree, I know it is the same with them all: they are all

knocked about, and exposed to every climate, and every weather,

till they are not fit to be seen. It is a pity they are not knocked

on the head at once, before they reach Admiral Baldwin's age."

"Nay, Sir Walter," cried Mrs Clay, "this is being severe indeed.

Have a little mercy on the poor men. We are not all born to be handsome.

The sea is no beautifier, certainly; sailors do grow old betimes;

I have observed it; they soon lose the look of youth. But then,

is not it the same with many other professions, perhaps most other?

Soldiers, in active service, are not at all better off: and even in

the quieter professions, there is a toil and a labour of the mind,

if not of the body, which seldom leaves a man's looks to the natural

effect of time. The lawyer plods, quite care-worn; the physician

is up at all hours, and travelling in all weather; and even

the clergyman—" she stopt a moment to consider what might

do for the clergyman;—"and even the clergyman, you know is obliged

to go into infected rooms, and expose his health and looks to

all the injury of a poisonous atmosphere. In fact, as I have

long been convinced, though every profession is necessary and honourable

in its turn, it is only the lot of those who are not obliged to follow any,

who can live in a regular way, in the country, choosing their own hours,

following their own pursuits, and living on their own property,

without the torment of trying for more; it is only their lot, I say,

to hold the blessings of health and a good appearance to the utmost:

I know no other set of men but what lose something of their personableness

when they cease to be quite young."

It seemed as if Mr Shepherd, in this anxiety to bespeak

Sir Walter's good will towards a naval officer as tenant,

had been gifted with foresight; for the very first application

for the house was from an Admiral Croft, with whom he shortly afterwards

fell into company in attending the quarter sessions at Taunton; and indeed,

he had received a hint of the Admiral from a London correspondent.

By the report which he hastened over to Kellynch to make,

Admiral Croft was a native of Somersetshire, who having acquired

a very handsome fortune, was wishing to settle in his own country,

and had come down to Taunton in order to look at some advertised places

in that immediate neighbourhood, which, however, had not suited him;

that accidentally hearing—(it was just as he had foretold,

Mr Shepherd observed, Sir Walter's concerns could not be kept a secret,)—

accidentally hearing of the possibility of Kellynch Hall being to let,

and understanding his (Mr Shepherd's) connection with the owner,

he had introduced himself to him in order to make particular inquiries,

and had, in the course of a pretty long conference, expressed as strong

an inclination for the place as a man who knew it only by description

could feel; and given Mr Shepherd, in his explicit account of himself,

every proof of his being a most responsible, eligible tenant.

"And who is Admiral Croft?" was Sir Walter's cold suspicious inquiry.

Mr Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman's family,

and mentioned a place; and Anne, after the little pause which followed,

added—

"He is a rear admiral of the white. He was in the Trafalgar action,

and has been in the East Indies since; he was stationed there,

I believe, several years."