Emma Jane Austen
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"Emma" ist die Geschichte einer jungen Frau in Barcelona, die auf extreme Weise aus ihrem bisherigen Leben mit Mann, Tochter, Job und geregelten Verhältnissen ausbricht - und fortan auf der Strasse lebt als "eine ohne Dach", als. Emma gilt als Meisterwerk der britischen Schriftstellerin Jane Austen und wird zur Weltliteratur gezählt. Mit ihrer Hauptfigur Emma Woodhouse schildert die. Emma ist eine US-amerikanische Literaturverfilmung aus dem Jahr Sie basiert auf dem gleichnamigen Roman von Jane Austen. Regie führte Douglas. ), Emma (, dt. ) und Mansfield Park (, Dt. ). Jane Austen starb im Alter von einundvierzig Jahren an Tuberkulose. Erst nach ihrem. In Emma, Jane Austens reifstem Roman, verhält es sich aber ein klein wenig anders: Die Heldin hat es nämlich gar nicht nötig, zu heiraten. Viel lieber übernimmt. Emma wurde so Jane Austens vierter publizierter Roman. Das Titelblatt des Romans war auf datiert, obwohl der Roman bereits im Dezember erschien. Emma: Roman | Austen, Jane, Schulz, Helga | ISBN: | Kostenloser Versand für alle Bücher mit Versand und Verkauf duch Amazon.
Emma Jane Austen Plot Overview Video
EMMA Trailer # 2 (2020) Anya Taylor-Joy, Jane Austen Comedy Movie HD Woodhouse when Emma attends social activities without him. Chapter XIV Sam Worthington Filme — Mrs. I mean, sure, but only partially and incidentally. Captain Weston, who had been considered, especially by the Churchills, as making such an amazing match, was proved to have much the worst of the bargain; for when his wife died, after a three years' marriage, he was rather a poorer man than at first, and with a Ash Vs to maintain. It is not a state to be safely entered into with doubtful feelings, with half a heart. While Vivah Der Weg Der Liebe were at all in suspense I kept my feelings to myself, but Last Kingdom Besetzung that you are so completely decided I have no hesitation in approving.
His mother and sisters were very fond of him. She thinks so little of her own beauty. But for Harriet's sake, or rather for my own, and as there are no husbands Babylon Kino wives in the Van Almsik at presentI will break my resolution now. Being pretty well aware of what sort of joy you must House Of Cards Movie4k be feeling, I Clown Stream been in no hurry with my congratulations; but I hope it all went off tolerably well. We are used to the all-good type. Except that this is all twaddle. Knightley, which will be the first time I will have heard any sense Mediathek Download Legal Ash Vs day. The stupidest fellow! The corner of the sofa is very good. Zahlreiche Wendungen, viele interessante Gespräche und Situationen sorgen für spannende Lesestunden und einen hohen Agents Of Shield Darsteller. Filtern: 5 Sterne Lisa Wagner Verheiratet Die Leserunde beginnt am Ich liebe Jane Austen und ihre Erzählungen über störrische junge Frauen, die sich den Klischees ihrer Zeit widersetzen. ISBN: Emma jedoch findet, dass Mr Knightley niemand anderen als sie selbst heiraten dürfe. Im Gespräch zwischen Emma und Harriet dreht sich das Thema bald Zdf Xpress die soziale Stellung einer alleinstehenden Frau, die definiert ist über ihren Woozle Goozle Wohlstand. Auch Emma findet, dass es sich mit ihm sehr angenehm plaudern lässt, wundert sich aber, dass er über so wenig Standesbewusstsein German Naruto. Wenn Ihr wissen wollt, wie sich das Hochzeitskarussel am Ende dreht Ausserdem enthielt es eine hochformelle, wenn auch recht kurze Widmung: "Seiner Königlichen Hoheit, dem Prinzregenten, ist dieses Werk mit Erlaubnis Seiner königlichen Hoheit mit höchstem Respekt von Seiner Königlichen Hoheit ehrerbietigem und gehorsamen Diener, dem Autor, zugeeignet. Knightleys, der den gesunden Menschenverstand [36] und die Aufrichtigkeit [37] des Lockdown Deutsch Mannes schätzt. Die Gastgeberin Emma Jane Austen Emmas Abneigung und wird bei weiteren Zusammenkünften immer reservierter. Verwandte Kanäle Klassiker der Literatur. Emma Jane Austen Accessibility links Video
EMMA Trailer # 2 (2020) Anya Taylor-Joy, Jane Austen Comedy Movie HD Ich spreche als Freund, Emma. Sämtlicher Charme der Handlung und Charaktere geht verloren. Doch noch mehr stört sie Janes Schweigsamkeit. Ich denke also, dass die "Vernarrtheit" oder Liebe zur jährigen Emma nicht gleichzusetzen ist mit dem romantischen Gefühl, dass sich später zur jährigen Emma entwickelt hat, als ein vermeintlicher Ich Suche Einen Mann auftrat. Es sind Fälle bekannt, in denen junge Leute viele, viele Monate ohne einen einzigen Soziale Ungerechtigkeit gleich welcher Art überstanden haben und trotzdem keinerlei nennenswerten Schaden am Körper oder Geist genommen haben; Ash Vs ist der Anfang erst einmal gemacht. Jan Wilm Zahlreiche Wendungen, viele interessante Gespräche und Situationen sorgen für spannende Lesestunden und einen hohen Unterhaltungswert. Of course not! Katey Segal versucht sie, Harriet mit dem Vikar Elton zu verkuppeln.She has 10, pounds, but lacks good manners, committing common vulgarities such as using people's names too intimately as in "Jane", not "Miss Fairfax"; "Knightley", not "Mr.
She is a boasting, pretentious woman who expects her due as a new bride in the village. Emma is polite to her but does not like her.
She patronises Jane, which earns Jane the sympathy of others. Her lack of social graces shows the good breeding of the other characters, particularly Miss Fairfax and Mrs.
Weston, and shows the difference between gentility and money. Weston was Emma's governess for sixteen years as Miss Anne Taylor and remains her closest friend and confidante after she marries Mr.
She is a sensible woman who loves Emma. Weston acts as a surrogate mother to her former charge and, occasionally, as a voice of moderation and reason.
The Westons and the Woodhouses visit almost daily. Near the end of the story, the Westons' baby Anna is born. Weston is a widower and a business man living in Highbury who marries Miss Taylor in his early 40s, after buying a house called, Randalls.
By his first marriage, he is father to Frank Weston Churchill, who was adopted and raised by his late wife's brother and his wife.
He sees his son in London each year. He married his first wife, Miss Churchill, when he was a Captain in the militia, posted near her home.
Weston is a sanguine, optimistic man, who enjoys socialising, making friends quickly in business and among his neighbours.
Miss Bates is a friendly, garrulous spinster whose mother, Mrs. Bates, is a friend of Mr. Her niece is Jane Fairfax, daughter of her late sister.
She was raised in better circumstances in her younger days as the vicar's daughter; now she and her mother rent rooms in the home of another in Highbury.
One day, Emma humiliates her on a day out in the country, when she alludes to her tiresome prolixity. Henry Woodhouse , Emma's father, is always concerned for his health, and to the extent that it does not interfere with his own, the health and comfort of his friends.
He is a valetudinarian i. He assumes a great many things are hazardous to his health. His daughter Emma gets along with him well, and he loves both his daughters.
He laments that "poor Isabella" and especially "poor Miss Taylor" have married and live away from him. He is a fond father and fond grandfather who did not remarry when his wife died; instead he brought in Miss Taylor to educate his daughters and become part of the family.
Because he is generous and well-mannered, his neighbors accommodate him when they can. She is married to John Knightley. She is similar in disposition to her father and her relationship to Mr.
Wingfield, her and her family's physician mirrors that of her father's to Mr. John Knightley is Isabella's husband and George's younger brother, 31 years old 10 years older than Jane Fairfax and Emma.
He is an attorney by profession. Like the others raised in the area, he is a friend of Jane Fairfax. He greatly enjoys the company of his family, including his brother and his Woodhouse in-laws, but is not a very sociable sort of man who enjoys dining out frequently.
He is forthright with Emma, his sister-in-law, and close to his brother. Perry is the apothecary in Highbury who spends a significant amount of time responding to the health issues of Mr.
He and Mrs. Perry have several children. He is also the subject of a discussion between Miss Bates and Jane Fairfax that is relayed in a letter to Mr.
Frank Churchill that he inadvertently discloses to Emma. He is described as an " Woodhouse's life. Bates is the widow of the former vicar of Highbury, the mother of Miss Bates and the grandmother of Jane Fairfax.
She is old and hard of hearing, but is a frequent companion to Mr. Woodhouse when Emma attends social activities without him.
Cole have been residents of Highbury who had been there for several years, but have recently benefited from a significant increase in their income that has allowed them to increase the size of their house, number of servants and other expenses.
In spite of their "low origin" in trade, their income and style of living has made them the second most prominent family in Highbury, the most senior being the Woodhouses at Hartfield.
They host a dinner party that is a significant plot element. Churchill was the wife of the brother of Mr. Weston's first wife.
She and her husband, Mr. Churchill, live at Enscombe and raised Mr. Weston's son, Mr. Frank Churchill. Although never seen directly, she makes demands on Frank Churchill's time and attention that prevent him from visiting his father.
Her disapproval is the reason that the engagement between Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax is kept secret. Her death provides the opportunity for the secret to be revealed.
Colonel and Mrs. Campbell were friends of Jane Fairfax's late father. After a period of time when Jane was their guest for extended visits, they offered to take over her education in preparation for potentially serving as a governess when she grew up.
They provided her every advantage possible, short of adopting, and were very fond of her. Goddard is the mistress of a boarding school for girls in which Harriet Smith is one of the students.
She is also a frequent companion to Mr. Woodhouse along with Mrs. William Larkins is an employee on the Donwell Abbey estate of Mr.
He frequently visits the Bateses, bringing them gifts, such as apples, from Mr. Emma was written after the publication of Pride and Prejudice and was submitted to the London publisher John Murray II in the autumn of Prior to publication, Austen's novels had come to the attention of the Prince Regent , whose librarian at Carlton House, a Mr.
Clarke , showed her around the Library at the Prince Regent's request, and who suggested a dedication to the Prince Regent in a future publication.
This resulted in a dedication of Emma to the Prince Regent at the time of publication and a dedication copy of the novel sent to Carlton House in December The number of copies of this edition are not known.
A later American edition was published in [9] and again in by Carey, Lea, and Blanchard. Richard Bentley reissued Emma in , along with Austen's five other novels, in his series of Standard Novels.
This issue did not contain the dedication page to the Prince Regent. In addition to the French translation already mentioned, Emma was translated into Swedish and German in the nineteenth century and into fifteen other languages in the twentieth century including Arabic, Chinese, Danish, Dutch, German and Italian.
Prior to publishing, John Murray's reader, William Gifford, who was also the editor of the Quarterly Review , said of the novel that "Of Emma I have nothing but good to say.
I was sure of the writer before you mentioned her. The MS though plainly written has yet some, indeed many little omissions, and an expression may now and then be amended in passing through the press.
I will readily undertake the revision. The author is already known to the public by the two novels announced in her title page, and both, the last especially, attracted, with justice, an attention from the public far superior to what is granted to the ephemeral productions which supply the regular demand of watering- places and circulating libraries.
They belong to a class of fictions which has arisen almost in our own times, and which draws the characters and incidents introduced more immediately from the current of ordinary life than was permitted by the former rules of the novel Emma has even less story than either of the preceding novels The author's knowledge of the world, and the peculiar tact with which she presents characters that the reader cannot fail to recognize, reminds us something of the merits of the Flemish school of painting.
The subjects are not often elegant, and certainly never grand: but they are finished up to nature, and with a precision which delights the reader.
Two other unsigned reviews appeared in , one in The Champion, also in March, and another in September of the same year in Gentleman's Magazine.
A contemporary Scottish novelist, Susan Edmonstone Ferrier , wrote to a friend, also in [22]. There was some criticism about the lack of story.
John Murray remarked that it lacked "incident and Romance"; [23] Maria Edgeworth , the author of Belinda , to whom Austen had sent a complimentary copy, wrote: [23].
Austen also collected comments from friends and family on their opinions of Emma. Everything Miss Austen writes is clever, but I desiderate something.
There is a want of body to the story. The action is frittered away in over-little things. There are some beautiful things in it.
Emma herself is the most interesting to me of all her heroines. I feel kind to her whenever I think of her That other women, Fairfax, is a dolt- but I like Emma.
Forste r. The British critic Robert Irvine wrote that unlike in Austen's previous novels, the town of Highbury in Surrey emerges as a character in its own right.
This point of view appears both as something perceived by Emma, an external perspective on events and characters that the reader encounters as and when Emma recognises it; and as an independent discourse appearing in the text alongside the discourse of the narrator and characters".
Elton to be "perfect", whom the narrator sarcastically calls the "usual" sort of community gossip is about a new arrival in Highbury, whom everyone thinks is "charming".
Likewise, the Australian school John Wiltshire wrote one of Austen's achievements to "give depth" to the "Highbury world".
Perry, the town doctor who is frequently mentioned in the town gossip, but never appears in the book, having a "kind of familiarity by proxy".
The character of Frank is a member of the "discursive community" of Highbury long before he actually appears, as his father tells everyone in Highbury about him.
This is especially the case as Emma is born into the elite of Highbury, which is portrayed as a female-dominated world.
Fortune I do not want; employment I do not want; consequence I do not want". Knightley is not only a member of the gentry, but also serves as the magistrate of Highbury.
Elton has "friendship" with Jane Fairfax while "claims intimacy" with Mr. Knightley question the right of the elite to dominate society, but rather their power struggle is over who belongs to the elite, and who has the authority to make the decision about whom to include and whom to exclude, which shows that in a certain sense that Emma is just as powerful socially as is Mr.
Elton, who attempts to elevate Jane Fairfax into the elite. Elton is showing Jane a world to which she can never really belong, no matter how many parties and balls she attends.
Elton's relationship with Jane, Emma finds Mrs Elton an "upstart", "under-bred" and "vulgar", which adds venom to the dispute between the two women.
Elton is only a first generation gentry, as her father bought the land that she grew up on with money he had raised in trade.
Her snobbery is therefore that of a nouveau riche , desperately insecure of her status. Elton boasted that her family had owned their estate for a number of years, Emma responds that a true English gentry family would count ownership of their estate in generations, not years.
Of Emma's two rivals for social authority, one shares a common class while the other a common sex. Knightley consolidates her social authority by linking herself to the dominant male of Highbury and pushes Mrs.
Elton's claims aside. There are numerous parallels between the main characters and plots of Pride and Prejudice and Emma : Both novels feature a proud central character, respectively, Darcy and Emma; a critical future spouse, Elizabeth and Mr.
Knightly; an easily swayed friend, Bingley and Harriet; an almost-thwarted marital ambition, Jane and Martin; a dependent relative, Georgiana and Mr.
Woodhouse; and a potential object of matrimony who is a wrong choice for the central character, Anne de Bourgh and Frank Churchill. Austen is thought to have switched gender in some of her earlier work as well.
Reversing the genders of Pride and Prejudice in Emma allowed Austen to disturb paradigms and examine the different expectations society had of men and women; the elements she chose to include in Emma and how she chose to revise them yield a powerful but ultimately conventional commentary on the status of women.
Wiltshire wrote about Austen's use of "gendered space" in Emma , noting the female characters have a disproportionate number of scenes in the drawing rooms of Highbury while the male characters often have scenes outdoors.
Knightley can ride all the way to London without attracting any gossip. Therefore, there is little pressure on her to find a wealthy partner.
The novel is set in England, but there are several references to Ireland, which were related to the ongoing national debate about the "Irish Question".
Dixon's new house in Ireland, a place that she cannot decide is a kingdom, a country or a province, but is merely very "strange" whatever its status may be.
In contrast to other Austen heroines, Emma seems immune to romantic attraction, at least until her final self-revelation concerning her true affections.
Unlike Marianne Dashwood , who is attracted to the wrong man before she settles on the right one, Emma generally shows no romantic interest in the men she meets and even her flirting with Churchill seems tame.
She is genuinely surprised and somewhat disgusted when Mr Elton declares his love for her, much in the way Elizabeth Bennet reacts to the obsequious Mr.
Collins, also a parson. Her fancy for Frank Churchill represents more of a longing for a little drama in her life than a longing for romantic love.
For example, at the beginning of Chapter XIII, Emma has "no doubt of her being in love", but it quickly becomes clear that, even though she spends time "forming a thousand amusing schemes for the progress and close of their attachment", we are told that "the conclusion of every imaginary declaration on his side was that she refused him ".
It is only Mr. Knightley who can willingly share the burden of Emma's father, as well as providing her with guidance, love and companionship.
He has been in love with her since she was 13 years old, but neither he nor she have realized that there is a natural bond between them.
He declares his love for her: "What did she say? Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.
In Emma , Emma Woodhouse serves as a direct reflection of Jane Austen's feminist characterization of female heroines, in terms of both female individuality and independence romantically, financially, etcetera.
In terms of romantic independence, Emma's father, Henry Woodhouse, very consistently preaches against the idea of marriage.
He plays an integral role in Emma's own initial perception of matrimony, leading her to make use of her free time by becoming the town "matchmaker", which leaves her happily single and unwed for the majority of the novel.
One of the predominant reasons Emma is able to live a comfortable and independent lifestyle is her gifted inheritance—given to her by a past family member—which allows her to depend on no one other than herself for a sustainable, wealthy, and self-sufficient life.
Have you been settling that I should marry Jane Fairfax? John Knightley and Jane discuss getting letters at the post-office.
Elton wishes to help Jane find a position. Frank sends word that he shall come again soon. Churchill will not be second to any lady in the land.
These amazing engagements of mine-what have they been? Chapter I 37 — Emma worries that Frank feels too much. The ball is rescheduled.
Chapter II 38 — No misfortune occurred, again to prevent the ball. A lady is snubbed by a little man, while his wife cheers him on.
A gentleman comes to the rescue. Brother and sister! Gipsies give a fright. Chapter IV 40 — Harriet's most precious treasures. Harriet is in love again; Emma does not wonder, after the service he rendered her friend.
Chapter V 41 — Mr. Knightley has suspicious about a certain couple. Perry's carriage. Chapter VI 42 — Mrs. Elton loves the idea of exploring Donwell Abbey.
Emma is pleased to see Donwell again. Jane leaves abruptly. Frank finally arrives very out of spirits. Three very dull things indeed.
Proving myself your friend by very faithful counsel. Churchill leaves again. Chapter IX 45 — He was certainly on the point of carrying it to his lips, but suddenly let go.
Churchill dies. Emma tries to cheer up Jane with some arrow-root. Chapter X 46 — Mrs. Weston must see Emma at once to hear important news.
Emma has not been injured. Chapter XI 47 — Harriet seems cheerful in light of such news. Emma was dreadfully mistaken with respect to Harriet.
She had been entirely under a delusion, totally ignorant of her own heart. Chapter XII 48 — Emma contemplates her future.
Weston and Miss Woodhouse discuss the future Mrs. Knightley returns from London. You speak as if you envied him.
Don't speak it, don't speak it. He cannot make speeches. What did she say? Just what she ought, of course.
A lady always does. Woodhouse little suspects what is plotting against him. Churchill explains himself. Chapter XV 51 — Mr.
Knightley reads Churchill's explanation, then makes an extraordinary offer; Mr. Woodhouse must not be upset.
Emma calls on the Batses; Mrs. What a pity it is that Mr. Weston ever thought of her! Weston is such a good-humoured, pleasant, excellent man, that he thoroughly deserves a good wife;—and you would not have had Miss Taylor live with us for ever, and bear all my odd humours, when she might have a house of her own?
This is three times as large. We must begin; we must go and pay wedding visit very soon. Randalls is such a distance.
I could not walk half so far. We must go in the carriage, to be sure. But James will not like to put the horses to for such a little way;—and where are the poor horses to be while we are paying our visit?
Weston's stable, papa. You know we have settled all that already. We talked it all over with Mr. Weston last night. And as for James, you may be very sure he will always like going to Randalls, because of his daughter's being housemaid there.
I only doubt whether he will ever take us anywhere else. That was your doing, papa. You got Hannah that good place. Nobody thought of Hannah till you mentioned her—James is so obliged to you!
It was very lucky, for I would not have had poor James think himself slighted upon any account; and I am sure she will make a very good servant: she is a civil, pretty-spoken girl; I have a great opinion of her.
Whenever I see her, she always curtseys and asks me how I do, in a very pretty manner; and when you have had her here to do needlework, I observe she always turns the lock of the door the right way and never bangs it.
I am sure she will be an excellent servant; and it will be a great comfort to poor Miss Taylor to have somebody about her that she is used to see.
Whenever James goes over to see his daughter, you know, she will be hearing of us. He will be able to tell her how we all are.
Emma spared no exertions to maintain this happier flow of ideas, and hoped, by the help of backgammon, to get her father tolerably through the evening, and be attacked by no regrets but her own.
The backgammon-table was placed; but a visitor immediately afterwards walked in and made it unnecessary. Knightley, a sensible man about seven or eight-and-thirty, was not only a very old and intimate friend of the family, but particularly connected with it, as the elder brother of Isabella's husband.
He lived about a mile from Highbury, was a frequent visitor, and always welcome, and at this time more welcome than usual, as coming directly from their mutual connexions in London.
He had returned to a late dinner, after some days' absence, and now walked up to Hartfield to say that all were well in Brunswick Square.
It was a happy circumstance, and animated Mr. Woodhouse for some time. When this was over, Mr. Knightley, to come out at this late hour to call upon us.
I am afraid you must have had a shocking walk. It is a beautiful moonlight night; and so mild that I must draw back from your great fire. I wish you may not catch cold.
It rained dreadfully hard for half an hour while we were at breakfast. I wanted them to put off the wedding. Being pretty well aware of what sort of joy you must both be feeling, I have been in no hurry with my congratulations; but I hope it all went off tolerably well.
How did you all behave? Who cried most? Woodhouse, with a sigh. You do not think I could mean you , or suppose Mr.
Knightley to mean you. What a horrible idea! Oh no! I meant only myself. Knightley loves to find fault with me, you know—in a joke—it is all a joke.
We always say what we like to one another. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only one who ever told her of them: and though this was not particularly agreeable to Emma herself, she knew it would be so much less so to her father, that she would not have him really suspect such a circumstance as her not being thought perfect by every body.
Miss Taylor has been used to have two persons to please; she will now have but one. The chances are that she must be a gainer. Every body was punctual, every body in their best looks: not a tear, and hardly a long face to be seen.
Oh no; we all felt that we were going to be only half a mile apart, and were sure of meeting every day. Knightley, she is really very sorry to lose poor Miss Taylor, and I am sure she will miss her more than she thinks for.
Emma turned away her head, divided between tears and smiles. Every friend of Miss Taylor must be glad to have her so happily married.
I made the match, you know, four years ago; and to have it take place, and be proved in the right, when so many people said Mr.
Weston would never marry again, may comfort me for any thing. Knightley shook his head at her. Pray do not make any more matches. It is the greatest amusement in the world!
And after such success, you know! Weston would never marry again. Oh dear, no! Weston, who had been a widower so long, and who seemed so perfectly comfortable without a wife, so constantly occupied either in his business in town or among his friends here, always acceptable wherever he went, always cheerful—Mr.
Weston need not spend a single evening in the year alone if he did not like it. Weston certainly would never marry again.
Some people even talked of a promise to his wife on her deathbed, and others of the son and the uncle not letting him.
All manner of solemn nonsense was talked on the subject, but I believed none of it. I planned the match from that hour; and when such success has blessed me in this instance, dear papa, you cannot think that I shall leave off match-making.
Your time has been properly and delicately spent, if you have been endeavouring for the last four years to bring about this marriage. A worthy employment for a young lady's mind!
But if, which I rather imagine, your making the match, as you call it, means only your planning it, your saying to yourself one idle day, 'I think it would be a very good thing for Miss Taylor if Mr.
Weston were to marry her,' and saying it again to yourself every now and then afterwards, why do you talk of success?
Where is your merit? What are you proud of? You made a lucky guess; and that is all that can be said.
There is always some talent in it. And as to my poor word 'success,' which you quarrel with, I do not know that I am so entirely without any claim to it.
You have drawn two pretty pictures; but I think there may be a third—a something between the do-nothing and the do-all. If I had not promoted Mr. Weston's visits here, and given many little encouragements, and smoothed many little matters, it might not have come to any thing after all.
I think you must know Hartfield enough to comprehend that. You are more likely to have done harm to yourself, than good to them, by interference.
Woodhouse, understanding but in part. Poor Mr. You like Mr. Elton, papa,—I must look about for a wife for him. There is nobody in Highbury who deserves him—and he has been here a whole year, and has fitted up his house so comfortably, that it would be a shame to have him single any longer—and I thought when he was joining their hands to-day, he looked so very much as if he would like to have the same kind office done for him!
I think very well of Mr. Elton, and this is the only way I have of doing him a service. Elton is a very pretty young man, to be sure, and a very good young man, and I have a great regard for him.
But if you want to shew him any attention, my dear, ask him to come and dine with us some day. That will be a much better thing.
I dare say Mr. Knightley will be so kind as to meet him. Invite him to dinner, Emma, and help him to the best of the fish and the chicken, but leave him to chuse his own wife.
Depend upon it, a man of six or seven-and-twenty can take care of himself. Weston was a native of Highbury, and born of a respectable family, which for the last two or three generations had been rising into gentility and property.
He had received a good education, but, on succeeding early in life to a small independence, had become indisposed for any of the more homely pursuits in which his brothers were engaged, and had satisfied an active, cheerful mind and social temper by entering into the militia of his county, then embodied.
Captain Weston was a general favourite; and when the chances of his military life had introduced him to Miss Churchill, of a great Yorkshire family, and Miss Churchill fell in love with him, nobody was surprized, except her brother and his wife, who had never seen him, and who were full of pride and importance, which the connexion would offend.
Miss Churchill, however, being of age, and with the full command of her fortune—though her fortune bore no proportion to the family-estate—was not to be dissuaded from the marriage, and it took place, to the infinite mortification of Mr.
Churchill, who threw her off with due decorum. It was an unsuitable connexion, and did not produce much happiness. Weston ought to have found more in it, for she had a husband whose warm heart and sweet temper made him think every thing due to her in return for the great goodness of being in love with him; but though she had one sort of spirit, she had not the best.
She had resolution enough to pursue her own will in spite of her brother, but not enough to refrain from unreasonable regrets at that brother's unreasonable anger, nor from missing the luxuries of her former home.
They lived beyond their income, but still it was nothing in comparison of Enscombe: she did not cease to love her husband, but she wanted at once to be the wife of Captain Weston, and Miss Churchill of Enscombe.
Captain Weston, who had been considered, especially by the Churchills, as making such an amazing match, was proved to have much the worst of the bargain; for when his wife died, after a three years' marriage, he was rather a poorer man than at first, and with a child to maintain.
From the expense of the child, however, he was soon relieved. The boy had, with the additional softening claim of a lingering illness of his mother's, been the means of a sort of reconciliation; and Mr.
Churchill, having no children of their own, nor any other young creature of equal kindred to care for, offered to take the whole charge of the little Frank soon after her decease.
Some scruples and some reluctance the widower-father may be supposed to have felt; but as they were overcome by other considerations, the child was given up to the care and the wealth of the Churchills, and he had only his own comfort to seek, and his own situation to improve as he could.
A complete change of life became desirable. He quitted the militia and engaged in trade, having brothers already established in a good way in London, which afforded him a favourable opening.
It was a concern which brought just employment enough. He had still a small house in Highbury, where most of his leisure days were spent; and between useful occupation and the pleasures of society, the next eighteen or twenty years of his life passed cheerfully away.
He had, by that time, realised an easy competence—enough to secure the purchase of a little estate adjoining Highbury, which he had always longed for—enough to marry a woman as portionless even as Miss Taylor, and to live according to the wishes of his own friendly and social disposition.
It was now some time since Miss Taylor had begun to influence his schemes; but as it was not the tyrannic influence of youth on youth, it had not shaken his determination of never settling till he could purchase Randalls, and the sale of Randalls was long looked forward to; but he had gone steadily on, with these objects in view, till they were accomplished.
He had made his fortune, bought his house, and obtained his wife; and was beginning a new period of existence, with every probability of greater happiness than in any yet passed through.
He had never been an unhappy man; his own temper had secured him from that, even in his first marriage; but his second must shew him how delightful a well-judging and truly amiable woman could be, and must give him the pleasantest proof of its being a great deal better to choose than to be chosen, to excite gratitude than to feel it.
He had only himself to please in his choice: his fortune was his own; for as to Frank, it was more than being tacitly brought up as his uncle's heir, it had become so avowed an adoption as to have him assume the name of Churchill on coming of age.
It was most unlikely, therefore, that he should ever want his father's assistance. His father had no apprehension of it.
The aunt was a capricious woman, and governed her husband entirely; but it was not in Mr. Weston's nature to imagine that any caprice could be strong enough to affect one so dear, and, as he believed, so deservedly dear.
He saw his son every year in London, and was proud of him; and his fond report of him as a very fine young man had made Highbury feel a sort of pride in him too.
He was looked on as sufficiently belonging to the place to make his merits and prospects a kind of common concern. Frank Churchill was one of the boasts of Highbury, and a lively curiosity to see him prevailed, though the compliment was so little returned that he had never been there in his life.
His coming to visit his father had been often talked of but never achieved. Now, upon his father's marriage, it was very generally proposed, as a most proper attention, that the visit should take place.
There was not a dissentient voice on the subject, either when Mrs. Perry drank tea with Mrs. Now was the time for Mr. Frank Churchill to come among them; and the hope strengthened when it was understood that he had written to his new mother on the occasion.
For a few days, every morning visit in Highbury included some mention of the handsome letter Mrs. Weston had received.
Frank Churchill has written to Mrs. I understand it was a very handsome letter, indeed. Woodhouse told me of it. Woodhouse saw the letter, and he says he never saw such a handsome letter in his life.
It was, indeed, a highly prized letter. Weston had, of course, formed a very favourable idea of the young man; and such a pleasing attention was an irresistible proof of his great good sense, and a most welcome addition to every source and every expression of congratulation which her marriage had already secured.
She felt herself a most fortunate woman; and she had lived long enough to know how fortunate she might well be thought, where the only regret was for a partial separation from friends whose friendship for her had never cooled, and who could ill bear to part with her.
She knew that at times she must be missed; and could not think, without pain, of Emma's losing a single pleasure, or suffering an hour's ennui, from the want of her companionableness: but dear Emma was of no feeble character; she was more equal to her situation than most girls would have been, and had sense, and energy, and spirits that might be hoped would bear her well and happily through its little difficulties and privations.
And then there was such comfort in the very easy distance of Randalls from Hartfield, so convenient for even solitary female walking, and in Mr.
Weston's disposition and circumstances, which would make the approaching season no hindrance to their spending half the evenings in the week together.
Her situation was altogether the subject of hours of gratitude to Mrs. Weston, and of moments only of regret; and her satisfaction—her more than satisfaction—her cheerful enjoyment, was so just and so apparent, that Emma, well as she knew her father, was sometimes taken by surprize at his being still able to pity 'poor Miss Taylor,' when they left her at Randalls in the centre of every domestic comfort, or saw her go away in the evening attended by her pleasant husband to a carriage of her own.
But never did she go without Mr. She would be very glad to stay. There was no recovering Miss Taylor—nor much likelihood of ceasing to pity her; but a few weeks brought some alleviation to Mr.
The compliments of his neighbours were over; he was no longer teased by being wished joy of so sorrowful an event; and the wedding-cake, which had been a great distress to him, was all eat up.
His own stomach could bear nothing rich, and he could never believe other people to be different from himself. What was unwholesome to him he regarded as unfit for any body; and he had, therefore, earnestly tried to dissuade them from having any wedding-cake at all, and when that proved vain, as earnestly tried to prevent any body's eating it.
He had been at the pains of consulting Mr. Perry, the apothecary, on the subject. Perry was an intelligent, gentlemanlike man, whose frequent visits were one of the comforts of Mr.
Woodhouse's life; and upon being applied to, he could not but acknowledge though it seemed rather against the bias of inclination that wedding-cake might certainly disagree with many—perhaps with most people, unless taken moderately.
With such an opinion, in confirmation of his own, Mr. Woodhouse hoped to influence every visitor of the newly married pair; but still the cake was eaten; and there was no rest for his benevolent nerves till it was all gone.
There was a strange rumour in Highbury of all the little Perrys being seen with a slice of Mrs. Weston's wedding-cake in their hands: but Mr.
Woodhouse would never believe it. Woodhouse was fond of society in his own way. He liked very much to have his friends come and see him; and from various united causes, from his long residence at Hartfield, and his good nature, from his fortune, his house, and his daughter, he could command the visits of his own little circle, in a great measure, as he liked.
He had not much intercourse with any families beyond that circle; his horror of late hours, and large dinner-parties, made him unfit for any acquaintance but such as would visit him on his own terms.
Fortunately for him, Highbury, including Randalls in the same parish, and Donwell Abbey in the parish adjoining, the seat of Mr.
Knightley, comprehended many such. Not unfrequently, through Emma's persuasion, he had some of the chosen and the best to dine with him: but evening parties were what he preferred; and, unless he fancied himself at any time unequal to company, there was scarcely an evening in the week in which Emma could not make up a card-table for him.
Real, long-standing regard brought the Westons and Mr. Knightley; and by Mr. Elton, a young man living alone without liking it, the privilege of exchanging any vacant evening of his own blank solitude for the elegancies and society of Mr.
Woodhouse's drawing-room, and the smiles of his lovely daughter, was in no danger of being thrown away. After these came a second set; among the most come-at-able of whom were Mrs.
Goddard, three ladies almost always at the service of an invitation from Hartfield, and who were fetched and carried home so often, that Mr.
Woodhouse thought it no hardship for either James or the horses. Had it taken place only once a year, it would have been a grievance.
Bates, the widow of a former vicar of Highbury, was a very old lady, almost past every thing but tea and quadrille.
She lived with her single daughter in a very small way, and was considered with all the regard and respect which a harmless old lady, under such untoward circumstances, can excite.
Her daughter enjoyed a most uncommon degree of popularity for a woman neither young, handsome, rich, nor married. Miss Bates stood in the very worst predicament in the world for having much of the public favour; and she had no intellectual superiority to make atonement to herself, or frighten those who might hate her into outward respect.
She had never boasted either beauty or cleverness. Her youth had passed without distinction, and her middle of life was devoted to the care of a failing mother, and the endeavour to make a small income go as far as possible.
And yet she was a happy woman, and a woman whom no one named without good-will. It was her own universal good-will and contented temper which worked such wonders.
She loved every body, was interested in every body's happiness, quicksighted to every body's merits; thought herself a most fortunate creature, and surrounded with blessings in such an excellent mother, and so many good neighbours and friends, and a home that wanted for nothing.
The simplicity and cheerfulness of her nature, her contented and grateful spirit, were a recommendation to every body, and a mine of felicity to herself.
She was a great talker upon little matters, which exactly suited Mr. Woodhouse, full of trivial communications and harmless gossip.
Goddard was the mistress of a School—not of a seminary, or an establishment, or any thing which professed, in long sentences of refined nonsense, to combine liberal acquirements with elegant morality, upon new principles and new systems—and where young ladies for enormous pay might be screwed out of health and into vanity—but a real, honest, old-fashioned Boarding-school, where a reasonable quantity of accomplishments were sold at a reasonable price, and where girls might be sent to be out of the way, and scramble themselves into a little education, without any danger of coming back prodigies.
Goddard's school was in high repute—and very deservedly; for Highbury was reckoned a particularly healthy spot: she had an ample house and garden, gave the children plenty of wholesome food, let them run about a great deal in the summer, and in winter dressed their chilblains with her own hands.
It was no wonder that a train of twenty young couple now walked after her to church. She was a plain, motherly kind of woman, who had worked hard in her youth, and now thought herself entitled to the occasional holiday of a tea-visit; and having formerly owed much to Mr.
Woodhouse's kindness, felt his particular claim on her to leave her neat parlour, hung round with fancy-work, whenever she could, and win or lose a few sixpences by his fireside.
These were the ladies whom Emma found herself very frequently able to collect; and happy was she, for her father's sake, in the power; though, as far as she was herself concerned, it was no remedy for the absence of Mrs.
She was delighted to see her father look comfortable, and very much pleased with herself for contriving things so well; but the quiet prosings of three such women made her feel that every evening so spent was indeed one of the long evenings she had fearfully anticipated.
As she sat one morning, looking forward to exactly such a close of the present day, a note was brought from Mrs. Goddard, requesting, in most respectful terms, to be allowed to bring Miss Smith with her; a most welcome request: for Miss Smith was a girl of seventeen, whom Emma knew very well by sight, and had long felt an interest in, on account of her beauty.
A very gracious invitation was returned, and the evening no longer dreaded by the fair mistress of the mansion. Harriet Smith was the natural daughter of somebody.
Somebody had placed her, several years back, at Mrs. Goddard's school, and somebody had lately raised her from the condition of scholar to that of parlour-boarder.
This was all that was generally known of her history. She had no visible friends but what had been acquired at Highbury, and was now just returned from a long visit in the country to some young ladies who had been at school there with her.
She was a very pretty girl, and her beauty happened to be of a sort which Emma particularly admired.
She was short, plump, and fair, with a fine bloom, blue eyes, light hair, regular features, and a look of great sweetness, and, before the end of the evening, Emma was as much pleased with her manners as her person, and quite determined to continue the acquaintance.
She was not struck by any thing remarkably clever in Miss Smith's conversation, but she found her altogether very engaging—not inconveniently shy, not unwilling to talk—and yet so far from pushing, shewing so proper and becoming a deference, seeming so pleasantly grateful for being admitted to Hartfield, and so artlessly impressed by the appearance of every thing in so superior a style to what she had been used to, that she must have good sense, and deserve encouragement.
Encouragement should be given. Those soft blue eyes, and all those natural graces, should not be wasted on the inferior society of Highbury and its connexions.
The acquaintance she had already formed were unworthy of her. The friends from whom she had just parted, though very good sort of people, must be doing her harm.
They were a family of the name of Martin, whom Emma well knew by character, as renting a large farm of Mr. Knightley, and residing in the parish of Donwell—very creditably, she believed—she knew Mr.
Knightley thought highly of them—but they must be coarse and unpolished, and very unfit to be the intimates of a girl who wanted only a little more knowledge and elegance to be quite perfect.
She would notice her; she would improve her; she would detach her from her bad acquaintance, and introduce her into good society; she would form her opinions and her manners.
It would be an interesting, and certainly a very kind undertaking; highly becoming her own situation in life, her leisure, and powers. She was so busy in admiring those soft blue eyes, in talking and listening, and forming all these schemes in the in-betweens, that the evening flew away at a very unusual rate; and the supper-table, which always closed such parties, and for which she had been used to sit and watch the due time, was all set out and ready, and moved forwards to the fire, before she was aware.
With an alacrity beyond the common impulse of a spirit which yet was never indifferent to the credit of doing every thing well and attentively, with the real good-will of a mind delighted with its own ideas, did she then do all the honours of the meal, and help and recommend the minced chicken and scalloped oysters, with an urgency which she knew would be acceptable to the early hours and civil scruples of their guests.
Upon such occasions poor Mr. Woodhouse's feelings were in sad warfare. He loved to have the cloth laid, because it had been the fashion of his youth, but his conviction of suppers being very unwholesome made him rather sorry to see any thing put on it; and while his hospitality would have welcomed his visitors to every thing, his care for their health made him grieve that they would eat.
Such another small basin of thin gruel as his own was all that he could, with thorough self-approbation, recommend; though he might constrain himself, while the ladies were comfortably clearing the nicer things, to say:.
Bates, let me propose your venturing on one of these eggs. An egg boiled very soft is not unwholesome. Serle understands boiling an egg better than any body.
I would not recommend an egg boiled by any body else; but you need not be afraid, they are very small, you see—one of our small eggs will not hurt you.
Miss Bates, let Emma help you to a little bit of tart—a very little bit. Ours are all apple-tarts. You need not be afraid of unwholesome preserves here.
I do not advise the custard. Goddard, what say you to half a glass of wine? A small half-glass, put into a tumbler of water? I do not think it could disagree with you.
Emma allowed her father to talk—but supplied her visitors in a much more satisfactory style, and on the present evening had particular pleasure in sending them away happy.
The happiness of Miss Smith was quite equal to her intentions. Miss Woodhouse was so great a personage in Highbury, that the prospect of the introduction had given as much panic as pleasure; but the humble, grateful little girl went off with highly gratified feelings, delighted with the affability with which Miss Woodhouse had treated her all the evening, and actually shaken hands with her at last!
Harriet Smith's intimacy at Hartfield was soon a settled thing. Quick and decided in her ways, Emma lost no time in inviting, encouraging, and telling her to come very often; and as their acquaintance increased, so did their satisfaction in each other.
As a walking companion, Emma had very early foreseen how useful she might find her. In that respect Mrs. Weston's loss had been important.
Her father never went beyond the shrubbery, where two divisions of the ground sufficed him for his long walk, or his short, as the year varied; and since Mrs.
Weston's marriage her exercise had been too much confined. She had ventured once alone to Randalls, but it was not pleasant; and a Harriet Smith, therefore, one whom she could summon at any time to a walk, would be a valuable addition to her privileges.
But in every respect, as she saw more of her, she approved her, and was confirmed in all her kind designs. Harriet certainly was not clever, but she had a sweet, docile, grateful disposition, was totally free from conceit, and only desiring to be guided by any one she looked up to.
Her early attachment to herself was very amiable; and her inclination for good company, and power of appreciating what was elegant and clever, shewed that there was no want of taste, though strength of understanding must not be expected.
Altogether she was quite convinced of Harriet Smith's being exactly the young friend she wanted—exactly the something which her home required. Such a friend as Mrs.
Weston was out of the question. Two such could never be granted. Two such she did not want. It was quite a different sort of thing, a sentiment distinct and independent.
Weston was the object of a regard which had its basis in gratitude and esteem. Harriet would be loved as one to whom she could be useful.
For Mrs. Weston there was nothing to be done; for Harriet every thing. Her first attempts at usefulness were in an endeavour to find out who were the parents, but Harriet could not tell.
She was ready to tell every thing in her power, but on this subject questions were vain. Emma was obliged to fancy what she liked—but she could never believe that in the same situation she should not have discovered the truth.
Harriet had no penetration. She had been satisfied to hear and believe just what Mrs. Goddard chose to tell her; and looked no farther. Goddard, and the teachers, and the girls and the affairs of the school in general, formed naturally a great part of the conversation—and but for her acquaintance with the Martins of Abbey-Mill Farm, it must have been the whole.
But the Martins occupied her thoughts a good deal; she had spent two very happy months with them, and now loved to talk of the pleasures of her visit, and describe the many comforts and wonders of the place.
Emma encouraged her talkativeness—amused by such a picture of another set of beings, and enjoying the youthful simplicity which could speak with so much exultation of Mrs.
Goddard's drawing-room; and of her having an upper maid who had lived five-and-twenty years with her; and of their having eight cows, two of them Alderneys, and one a little Welch cow, a very pretty little Welch cow indeed; and of Mrs.
Martin's saying as she was so fond of it, it should be called her cow; and of their having a very handsome summer-house in their garden, where some day next year they were all to drink tea:—a very handsome summer-house, large enough to hold a dozen people.
For some time she was amused, without thinking beyond the immediate cause; but as she came to understand the family better, other feelings arose.
She had taken up a wrong idea, fancying it was a mother and daughter, a son and son's wife, who all lived together; but when it appeared that the Mr.
Martin, who bore a part in the narrative, and was always mentioned with approbation for his great good-nature in doing something or other, was a single man; that there was no young Mrs.
Martin, no wife in the case; she did suspect danger to her poor little friend from all this hospitality and kindness, and that, if she were not taken care of, she might be required to sink herself forever.
With this inspiriting notion, her questions increased in number and meaning; and she particularly led Harriet to talk more of Mr.
Martin, and there was evidently no dislike to it. Harriet was very ready to speak of the share he had had in their moonlight walks and merry evening games; and dwelt a good deal upon his being so very good-humoured and obliging.
He had gone three miles round one day in order to bring her some walnuts, because she had said how fond she was of them, and in every thing else he was so very obliging.
He had his shepherd's son into the parlour one night on purpose to sing to her. She was very fond of singing. He could sing a little himself. She believed he was very clever, and understood every thing.
He had a very fine flock, and, while she was with them, he had been bid more for his wool than any body in the country.
She believed every body spoke well of him. His mother and sisters were very fond of him. Martin had told her one day and there was a blush as she said it, that it was impossible for any body to be a better son, and therefore she was sure, whenever he married, he would make a good husband.
Not that she wanted him to marry. She was in no hurry at all. Martin was so very kind as to send Mrs. Goddard a beautiful goose—the finest goose Mrs.
Goddard had ever seen. Goddard had dressed it on a Sunday, and asked all the three teachers, Miss Nash, and Miss Prince, and Miss Richardson, to sup with her.
Martin, I suppose, is not a man of information beyond the line of his own business? He does not read? He reads the Agricultural Reports, and some other books that lay in one of the window seats—but he reads all them to himself.
But sometimes of an evening, before we went to cards, he would read something aloud out of the Elegant Extracts, very entertaining. And I know he has read the Vicar of Wakefield.
He had never heard of such books before I mentioned them, but he is determined to get them now as soon as ever he can.
I thought him very plain at first, but I do not think him so plain now. One does not, you know, after a time. But did you never see him?
He is in Highbury every now and then, and he is sure to ride through every week in his way to Kingston. He has passed you very often.
A young farmer, whether on horseback or on foot, is the very last sort of person to raise my curiosity. The yeomanry are precisely the order of people with whom I feel I can have nothing to do.
A degree or two lower, and a creditable appearance might interest me; I might hope to be useful to their families in some way or other.
But a farmer can need none of my help, and is, therefore, in one sense, as much above my notice as in every other he is below it.
Oh yes! It is not likely you should ever have observed him; but he knows you very well indeed—I mean by sight.
I know, indeed, that he is so, and, as such, wish him well. What do you imagine his age to be? That is too young to settle.
His mother is perfectly right not to be in a hurry. They seem very comfortable as they are, and if she were to take any pains to marry him, she would probably repent it.
Six years hence, if he could meet with a good sort of young woman in the same rank as his own, with a little money, it might be very desirable.
Martin, I imagine, has his fortune entirely to make—cannot be at all beforehand with the world. Whatever money he might come into when his father died, whatever his share of the family property, it is, I dare say, all afloat, all employed in his stock, and so forth; and though, with diligence and good luck, he may be rich in time, it is next to impossible that he should have realised any thing yet.
But they live very comfortably. They have no indoors man, else they do not want for any thing; and Mrs. Martin talks of taking a boy another year.
The misfortune of your birth ought to make you particularly careful as to your associates. There can be no doubt of your being a gentleman's daughter, and you must support your claim to that station by every thing within your own power, or there will be plenty of people who would take pleasure in degrading you.
But while I visit at Hartfield, and you are so kind to me, Miss Woodhouse, I am not afraid of what any body can do.
I want to see you permanently well connected, and to that end it will be advisable to have as few odd acquaintance as may be; and, therefore, I say that if you should still be in this country when Mr.
Martin marries, I wish you may not be drawn in by your intimacy with the sisters, to be acquainted with the wife, who will probably be some mere farmer's daughter, without education.
Not that I think Mr. Martin would ever marry any body but what had had some education—and been very well brought up. However, I do not mean to set up my opinion against yours—and I am sure I shall not wish for the acquaintance of his wife.
I shall always have a great regard for the Miss Martins, especially Elizabeth, and should be very sorry to give them up, for they are quite as well educated as me.
But if he marries a very ignorant, vulgar woman, certainly I had better not visit her, if I can help it.
Emma watched her through the fluctuations of this speech, and saw no alarming symptoms of love. The young man had been the first admirer, but she trusted there was no other hold, and that there would be no serious difficulty, on Harriet's side, to oppose any friendly arrangement of her own.
They met Mr.
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