A Very Common Failing I Believe

Pride and Prejudice, chapter 5

This chapter becomes, surprisingly, something of a discourse on pride and what it signifies. We hear from several different characters, though they end up on two subtle but distinct sides.

Chapter five opens with a description of a character we might, based on this, expect to see more of than we eventually do: Sir William Lucas. We are treated to an account of his rise from tradesman to mayor to knight. The narrator informs us, with typical understatement, that “the distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly.” Sir William’s knighthood caused him to leave his business behind and set up as an idle country gentleman.

Sir William’s pride is obviously harmless; he is friendly, and open to everyone, and seems most invested in making sure everyone around him has a good time. He thinks his new rank has elevated him more than it probably has, but he doesn’t use this as an excuse to condescend to anyone. His pride manifests itself in looking up, not down.

The next account of pride comes courtesy of Mrs. Bennet, as she condemns Darcy for his behavior at the Meryton assembly:

"I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by his ill-treatment; for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips."
"Are you quite sure, Ma'am? -- is not there a little mistake?" said Jane. -- "I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her."
"Aye -- because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; -- but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to."
"Miss Bingley told me," said Jane, "that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable."
"I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; every body says that he is ate up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise."

Mrs. Bennet’s idea of pride is entirely based around behavior, and the treatment she considers herself and her friends entitled to. Her evidence that Darcy is proud is that he did not dance with one of her daughters, and he did not speak to Mrs. Long. She does not know why he acted this way, but she is certain that he did because “he is ate up with pride.” Mrs. Bennet is not a student of character like her daughter; she does not have any interest in Darcy’s thoughts or feelings or in those of anyone apart from herself.

I wonder the extent to which Mrs. Bennet is projecting here; her account of Darcy follows a boast of Jane’s beauty and success with Bingley, during which she passively insults the less beautiful Charlotte. We know from an earlier chapter that she is perfectly capable of insulting the unseen Mrs. Long herself when she wants to. She cannot imagine that Darcy might find a friend of hers simply irritating or boring, and assumes he must look down on her for the same reason Mrs. Bennet herself does. There’s nothing in particular to indicate it, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Mrs. Bennet was the one who made sure everyone knew Mrs. Long came to the assembly in a hack chaise. I’m certain that if Darcy heard he immediately forgot it. Mrs. Bennet’s manner in this scene is not so much proud as it is vain; she is offended that Darcy did not value her daughter and friend as highly as she thinks he ought. Mr. Darcy might be proud. Mrs. Bennet is smug.

Charlotte Lucas speaks the most intelligently in this scene, making it a fitting introduction to the character. More than any other person in Pride and Prejudice, even Elizabeth, she comes closest to matching the detached tone of the narrator; Charlotte is able to judge Darcy’s characteristics objectively even as she acknowledges and condemns his poor treatment of her friend. She is not as funny as Elizabeth is, but she is as good an observer. Her judgments are less clouded by her vanity. Charlotte on Darcy’s pride:

"His pride," said Miss Lucas, "does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud."

This points to the purpose of the description of Sir William at the opening of the chapter; Charlotte is echoing in speech the implied values of her father. She is clearly more intelligent than him, but her judgments are not so different from his. Pride in oneself, to the Lucases, has nothing to do with one's behavior to others and is something which certain men are entitled to. Sir William believes himself entitled to it; he may be wrong, but Charlotte at least believes the idea is sound.

What is also interesting is that Elizabeth quickly agrees with Charlotte in principle, adding as a caveat that "I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine." Elizabeth is the first character here who acknowledges pride as a trait she shares, though she is making the mistake which Mary will unthinkingly allude to soon, in saying "pride" when she really means "vanity."

Vanity is what Elizabeth will later call her principle folly in her dealings with Darcy, and we can see it at work here. Look at how in sync she and her mother are in their judgments in this scene, how comparatively slow she is to correct her mother (Jane does it instead) and how readily she makes a promise never to dance with Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth and her mother are typically placed in contrast to each other: one is embarrassing and the other is embarrassed; one is stupid and the other is clever; one is selfish and the other is compassionate. Here they are in accord, for perhaps the only time.

Mrs. Bennet’s vanity is vulgar, and displayed before everyone. Elizabeth’s is kept private. She will admit to an offense to her pride, as she does agree with Charlotte that pride is not necessarily a fault. She will not admit to an offense to her vanity, as that would involve admitting that she, like her mother, considered herself entitled to notice which she did not receive. Elizabeth is taking this personally. One suspects that if she were turning her whole (considerable) intellect to the matter, she would agree with Charlotte without reservation.

Mary gives a probably prepared speech on pride, which reveals more of her own values; rather, it reveals that she doesn’t have any of her own:

"Pride," observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, "is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us."

That Mary bases her estimations on "all that [she has] ever read" instead of interactions with other people is of course typical. However, there is another line here that is even more illuminating. We learn that Mary "piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections." Mary does not speak to enrich the conversation, or even really to inform. Mary speaks because she considers herself intelligent, and well read, and wants everyone to know how much. Mary believes she is dispassionately offering a reflection on pride and vanity, but she is instead providing an example as clearly as her mother just has.

And entirely by accident, she has illustrated part of the point: "Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously."

Almost invisibly, Austen has given us a primer on these two families and their values. The Lucases, maybe undeservedly, are proud. The Bennets are vain. The Lucases value pride, while the Bennets condemn it in others and fail to recognize its twin, vanity, in themselves. Mrs. Bennet, Mary and Elizabeth are very different women, but they all share this fault. Elizabeth stands apart here only because she comes closest of the three to naming this in herself.

We leave this scene with one of the younger Lucas brothers. He is a ridiculous kid, but he still clearly sides with his father and sister:

"If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy," cried a young Lucas who came with his sisters, "I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day."
"Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought," said Mrs. Bennet; "and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly."
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.

According to all the Lucases, intelligent and stupid alike, pride is just fine for some people. The great and proud can do as they like, Mrs. Bennets of the world be damned.