Pride and Prejudice

When Lady Catherine complains that Pemberley will be “polluted” (332) if Darcy marries Elizabeth, a woman “without family, connections, or fortune” (331), Elizabeth retorts that she and Darcy are “equal” because Darcy “is a gentleman” and she is “a gentleman’s daughter” (331). Lady Catherine admits Elizabeth is a gentleman’s daughter but asks, “But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts?” (331). Mr. Bennet and Darcy are both part of the landed gentry, a class of landowners whose income consists of that earned by the land, sometimes through rent brought in by tenant farmers. Members of the landed gentry earned their living by managing the land, rather than in trade. Lady Catherine therefore is reminding Elizabeth that her father married beneath him, for Mrs. Bennet comes from a family of lawyers, including her father, brother (Mr. Gardiner), and brother-in-law (Mr. Philips, “who had been a clerk to their father, and had succeeded him in the business” [28]).

As land was equated with social standing, tradesmen were beneath the landed gentry, though they could make good money in their trade, sometimes surpassing the income of those in the landed gentry. One example of a wealthy tradesman is Bingley. Bingley’s father, who had left Bingley a vast fortune, “had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it” (17). Austen writes that Bingley’s “sisters were very anxious” (17) for Bingley to purchase an estate, which would place them properly in the landed gentry. Despite the fact that “their brother’s fortune and their own had been acquired by trade” (17), their fortune is greater than that of Mr. Bennet, who has not “laid by an annual sum” (286). Though their mocking of the Bennets is ironic given their connection to trade, they consider themselves superior for their wealth and family connections.

The Bingley sisters are far from the only characters in Pride and Prejudice who exhibit social pretension and snobbery. Mrs. Bennet embarrasses Elizabeth by assuring Darcy the city has no advantage to the town, for she and her family “dine with four-and-twenty-families” (43). Sir William Lucas, who “had made a tolerable fortune” in trade, earned “a knighthood by an address to the king during his mayoralty,” an honor that had “been felt too strongly” (18). Though Sir William’s fortune is evidently not great enough to ensure an adequate dowry for his daughter, Charlotte, he puts on airs both with Darcy—to whom he professes to know about “superior society” (26)—and with Mr. Collins, to whom he states that “his situation in life” (153) has provided him with “knowledge of what the manners of the great really are” (153). Sir William, however, like Mr. Collins, is overwhelmed and in awe of Rosings and Lady Catherine, to whom he can barely bring himself to speak.

Like Sir William Lucas, Mr. Collins attempts to make himself look superior through his connections to the wealthy. Mr. Collins’s reverence of Lady Catherine is revealed as early as his letter to Mr. Bennet and continues to be his defining quality throughout his stay at Longbourn. He brags about his connection to her at every opportunity, using it as evidence of his own importance. At the Netherfield ball, he dismisses Elizabeth’s warnings that his approaching Darcy is “imprudent,” telling her that he is “more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right” (94). He regales the Bennets with tales of his many dinners at Rosings and Lady Catherine’s generous advice as to his manner of living. He delights in his ability to show “the grandeur of his patroness” (152) to Elizabeth, Sir William, and Maria; once there, he agrees with everything Lady Catherine says, “thanking her” every time he wins at cards “and apologizing [sic]” (159) when he wins too much. His compliment to Mrs. Philips that her apartment reminds him of “the small summer breakfast parlour [sic] at Rosings” (73) is in truth a boast of his own relationship with the wealthy Lady Catherine. Like Sir William and Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins unwittingly debases himself, refusing to see that his obsequiousness merely distinguishes him further from the object of his awe. Later, at Pemberley, Elizabeth is pleased when Darcy speaks with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner who, unlike her other friends and family, exhibit “intelligence,” “taste,” and “good manners” (238).

Austen seems to suggest that regardless of wealth or status, true class is indicated in one’s behavior. Despite Lady Catherine’s money and circumstance, her dinner party “did not supply much conversation” (156). Lady Catherine demonstrates ill breeding in her arrogance, stating that her daughter is more beautiful than most women “because there is that in her features which marks the young woman of distinguished birth” (65); she also claims she has “more true enjoyment of music” (165) than anyone in England, even though she doesn’t play—a comment that contributes to Darcy’s feeling “ashamed” (165). In contrast, Mrs. Annesley, Miss Darcy’s attendant, is “a genteel” woman “whose endeavor to introduce some kind of discourse proved her to be more truly well-bred” (249) than Bingley’s sisters. Jane and Elizabeth, though not wealthy, are honest, thoughtful, and unpretentious. That Darcy and Bingley defy their wealthy relations’ protests and marry women of true good breeding suggests the futility of snobbery and entitlement.

At the Meryton ball, Darcy’s pride makes him prejudiced against the townspeople: he declares that the idea of dancing “[a]t such an assembly as this” is “insupportable” (13). He falls in love with Elizabeth against his will and even in his proposal fixates on her “inferiority” (179). Elizabeth’s rejection, though “inexpressibly painful,” forces him to reevaluate his haughty behavior. He admits that he’d proposed expecting to be accepted and that he was “properly humbled” by her rejection, which showed him that “a woman worthy of being pleased” (343) deserves more. By the end of the novel, Darcy’s changed behavior proves that he’s taken these lessons to heart. He is kind and gentle with the Gardiners, and he tolerates the “parading and obsequious civility” of Mr. Collins and the “vulgarity” of Mrs. Philips with “admirable calmness” (356). When he anonymously settles Wickham’s debts, it is a selfless sacrifice where he helps two people he personally dislikes, wholly for Elizabeth’s benefit, without any hope of being acknowledged.

Darcy’s comment at the Meryton ball that Elizabeth is merely “tolerable” (13) wounds her pride and clouds her perception of him through much of the novel. Missing the signs that he loves her, Elizabeth assumes he pays attention to her to find ways to criticize her and tells him she believes he wants only “the pleasure of despising my taste” (50). At Hunsford, she believes he meets her on her walks because of his “willful [sic] ill-nature” (173). In fact, when Charlotte, at the Netherfield ball, suggests Elizabeth may enjoy dancing with him, Elizabeth flatly admits she wants to hate him: “That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate!” (88). After reading the letter Darcy writes after she rejects his proposal, Elizabeth is horrified to discover that her attraction to Wickham has made her “blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd” and that she, who has “prided myself on my discernment,” has “courted prepossession and ignorance” (196). Like Darcy, she amends her behavior; as she falls in love with him, she regrets having spoken so strongly against him.

Elizabeth's prejudice against Darcy also colors her opinion of Miss Darcy, whom she assumes, based on Wickham’s report, to be proud. This opinion is formed without her having met Miss Darcy who, it turns out, is merely shy. Upon meeting, the two women like each other instantly and ultimately form a special bond.