It is not unknown to me how many men have had, and still have, the
opinion that the affairs of the world are in such wise governed by
fortune and by God that men with their wisdom cannot direct them and
that no one can even help them; and because of this they would have us
believe that it is not necessary to labour much in affairs, but to let
chance govern them. This opinion has been more credited in our times
because of the great changes in affairs which have been seen, and
may still be seen, every day, beyond all human conjecture. Sometimes
pondering over this, I am in some degree inclined to their opinion.
Nevertheless, not to extinguish our free will, I hold it to be true that
Fortune is the arbiter of one-half of our actions,(*) but that she still
leaves us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less.

     (*) Frederick the Great was accustomed to say: "The older
     one gets the more convinced one becomes that his Majesty
     King Chance does three-quarters of the business of this
     miserable universe." Sorel's "Eastern Question."

I compare her to one of those raging rivers, which when in flood
overflows the plains, sweeping away trees and buildings, bearing away
the soil from place to place; everything flies before it, all yield to
its violence, without being able in any way to withstand it; and yet,
though its nature be such, it does not follow therefore that men, when
the weather becomes fair, shall not make provision, both with defences
and barriers, in such a manner that, rising again, the waters may
pass away by canal, and their force be neither so unrestrained nor so
dangerous. So it happens with fortune, who shows her power where valour
has not prepared to resist her, and thither she turns her forces where
she knows that barriers and defences have not been raised to constrain
her.

And if you will consider Italy, which is the seat of these changes, and
which has given to them their impulse, you will see it to be an open
country without barriers and without any defence. For if it had been
defended by proper valour, as are Germany, Spain, and France, either
this invasion would not have made the great changes it has made or it
would not have come at all. And this I consider enough to say concerning
resistance to fortune in general.

But confining myself more to the particular, I say that a prince may be
seen happy to-day and ruined to-morrow without having shown any change
of disposition or character. This, I believe, arises firstly from causes
that have already been discussed at length, namely, that the prince who
relies entirely on fortune is lost when it changes. I believe also that
he will be successful who directs his actions according to the spirit of
the times, and that he whose actions do not accord with the times will
not be successful. Because men are seen, in affairs that lead to the end
which every man has before him, namely, glory and riches, to get there
by various methods; one with caution, another with haste; one by force,
another by skill; one by patience, another by its opposite; and each one
succeeds in reaching the goal by a different method. One can also see of
two cautious men the one attain his end, the other fail; and similarly,
two men by different observances are equally successful, the one being
cautious, the other impetuous; all this arises from nothing else than
whether or not they conform in their methods to the spirit of the times.
This follows from what I have said, that two men working differently
bring about the same effect, and of two working similarly, one attains
his object and the other does not.

Changes in estate also issue from this, for if, to one who governs
himself with caution and patience, times and affairs converge in such a
way that his administration is successful, his fortune is made; but if
times and affairs change, he is ruined if he does not change his course
of action. But a man is not often found sufficiently circumspect to know
how to accommodate himself to the change, both because he cannot deviate
from what nature inclines him to do, and also because, having always
prospered by acting in one way, he cannot be persuaded that it is well
to leave it; and, therefore, the cautious man, when it is time to turn
adventurous, does not know how to do it, hence he is ruined; but had he
changed his conduct with the times fortune would not have changed.

Pope Julius the Second went to work impetuously in all his affairs, and
found the times and circumstances conform so well to that line of action
that he always met with success. Consider his first enterprise against
Bologna, Messer Giovanni Bentivogli being still alive. The Venetians
were not agreeable to it, nor was the King of Spain, and he had the
enterprise still under discussion with the King of France; nevertheless
he personally entered upon the expedition with his accustomed boldness
and energy, a move which made Spain and the Venetians stand irresolute
and passive, the latter from fear, the former from desire to recover
the kingdom of Naples; on the other hand, he drew after him the King of
France, because that king, having observed the movement, and desiring
to make the Pope his friend so as to humble the Venetians, found it
impossible to refuse him. Therefore Julius with his impetuous action
accomplished what no other pontiff with simple human wisdom could have
done; for if he had waited in Rome until he could get away, with his
plans arranged and everything fixed, as any other pontiff would have
done, he would never have succeeded. Because the King of France would
have made a thousand excuses, and the others would have raised a
thousand fears.

I will leave his other actions alone, as they were all alike, and they
all succeeded, for the shortness of his life did not let him experience
the contrary; but if circumstances had arisen which required him to go
cautiously, his ruin would have followed, because he would never have
deviated from those ways to which nature inclined him.

I conclude, therefore that, fortune being changeful and mankind
steadfast in their ways, so long as the two are in agreement men are
successful, but unsuccessful when they fall out. For my part I consider
that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is
a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and
ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by
the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly. She is,
therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are
less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her.

Concerning the Influence of Fortune in Human Affairs, and the Manner in Which It Is to Be Resisted Although it is often thought that fortune controls human affairs, fortune controls only half of one's actions, while free will determines the other half. Fortune is like a flooding river: it is only dangerous when men have not built dykes against it beforehand. Italy has not built dykes, and as a result it has experienced tumultuous upheaval. Germany, Spain, and France have taken better care and have reaped the benefits of stability. As fortune varies, one man may succeed and another fail, even if they both follow the same path. Times and circumstances change, so a prince must adjust to them in order to remain successful; however, men tend to stay on the course that has brought them success in the past. Circumstances allowed Julius II to act impetuously, but if he had lived longer, he would have been ruined when circumstances changed. On the whole, however, impetuosity surpasses caution. Fortune favors energetic youth over cautious age


Having carefully considered the subject of the above discourses, and
wondering within myself whether the present times were propitious to
a new prince, and whether there were elements that would give an
opportunity to a wise and virtuous one to introduce a new order of
things which would do honour to him and good to the people of this
country, it appears to me that so many things concur to favour a new
prince that I never knew a time more fit than the present.

And if, as I said, it was necessary that the people of Israel should be
captive so as to make manifest the ability of Moses; that the Persians
should be oppressed by the Medes so as to discover the greatness of the
soul of Cyrus; and that the Athenians should be dispersed to illustrate
the capabilities of Theseus: then at the present time, in order to
discover the virtue of an Italian spirit, it was necessary that Italy
should be reduced to the extremity that she is now in, that she should
be more enslaved than the Hebrews, more oppressed than the Persians,
more scattered than the Athenians; without head, without order, beaten,
despoiled, torn, overrun; and to have endured every kind of desolation.

Although lately some spark may have been shown by one, which made us
think he was ordained by God for our redemption, nevertheless it was
afterwards seen, in the height of his career, that fortune rejected him;
so that Italy, left as without life, waits for him who shall yet heal
her wounds and put an end to the ravaging and plundering of Lombardy,
to the swindling and taxing of the kingdom and of Tuscany, and cleanse
those sores that for long have festered. It is seen how she entreats God
to send someone who shall deliver her from these wrongs and barbarous
insolencies. It is seen also that she is ready and willing to follow a
banner if only someone will raise it.

Nor is there to be seen at present one in whom she can place more hope
than in your illustrious house,(*) with its valour and fortune, favoured
by God and by the Church of which it is now the chief, and which could
be made the head of this redemption. This will not be difficult if you
will recall to yourself the actions and lives of the men I have named.
And although they were great and wonderful men, yet they were men, and
each one of them had no more opportunity than the present offers, for
their enterprises were neither more just nor easier than this, nor was
God more their friend than He is yours.

     (*) Giuliano de Medici. He had just been created a cardinal
     by Leo X. In 1523 Giuliano was elected Pope, and took the
     title of Clement VII.

With us there is great justice, because that war is just which is
necessary, and arms are hallowed when there is no other hope but in
them. Here there is the greatest willingness, and where the willingness
is great the difficulties cannot be great if you will only follow those
men to whom I have directed your attention. Further than this, how
extraordinarily the ways of God have been manifested beyond example:
the sea is divided, a cloud has led the way, the rock has poured
forth water, it has rained manna, everything has contributed to
your greatness; you ought to do the rest. God is not willing to do
everything, and thus take away our free will and that share of glory
which belongs to us.

And it is not to be wondered at if none of the above-named Italians
have been able to accomplish all that is expected from your illustrious
house; and if in so many revolutions in Italy, and in so many campaigns,
it has always appeared as if military virtue were exhausted, this has
happened because the old order of things was not good, and none of us
have known how to find a new one. And nothing honours a man more than to
establish new laws and new ordinances when he himself was newly risen.
Such things when they are well founded and dignified will make him
revered and admired, and in Italy there are not wanting opportunities to
bring such into use in every form.

Here there is great valour in the limbs whilst it fails in the head.
Look attentively at the duels and the hand-to-hand combats, how superior
the Italians are in strength, dexterity, and subtlety. But when it comes
to armies they do not bear comparison, and this springs entirely from
the insufficiency of the leaders, since those who are capable are not
obedient, and each one seems to himself to know, there having never been
any one so distinguished above the rest, either by valour or fortune,
that others would yield to him. Hence it is that for so long a time,
and during so much fighting in the past twenty years, whenever there
has been an army wholly Italian, it has always given a poor account of
itself; the first witness to this is Il Taro, afterwards Allesandria,
Capua, Genoa, Vaila, Bologna, Mestri.(*)

     (*) The battles of Il Taro, 1495; Alessandria, 1499; Capua,
     1501; Genoa, 1507; Vaila, 1509; Bologna, 1511; Mestri, 1513.

If, therefore, your illustrious house wishes to follow these remarkable
men who have redeemed their country, it is necessary before all things,
as a true foundation for every enterprise, to be provided with your
own forces, because there can be no more faithful, truer, or better
soldiers. And although singly they are good, altogether they will
be much better when they find themselves commanded by their prince,
honoured by him, and maintained at his expense. Therefore it is
necessary to be prepared with such arms, so that you can be defended
against foreigners by Italian valour.

And although Swiss and Spanish infantry may be considered very
formidable, nevertheless there is a defect in both, by reason of which
a third order would not only be able to oppose them, but might be relied
upon to overthrow them. For the Spaniards cannot resist cavalry, and the
Switzers are afraid of infantry whenever they encounter them in close
combat. Owing to this, as has been and may again be seen, the Spaniards
are unable to resist French cavalry, and the Switzers are overthrown by
Spanish infantry. And although a complete proof of this latter cannot
be shown, nevertheless there was some evidence of it at the battle of
Ravenna, when the Spanish infantry were confronted by German battalions,
who follow the same tactics as the Swiss; when the Spaniards, by agility
of body and with the aid of their shields, got in under the pikes of the
Germans and stood out of danger, able to attack, while the Germans stood
helpless, and, if the cavalry had not dashed up, all would have been
over with them. It is possible, therefore, knowing the defects of both
these infantries, to invent a new one, which will resist cavalry and not
be afraid of infantry; this need not create a new order of arms, but
a variation upon the old. And these are the kind of improvements which
confer reputation and power upon a new prince.

This opportunity, therefore, ought not to be allowed to pass for letting
Italy at last see her liberator appear. Nor can one express the love
with which he would be received in all those provinces which have
suffered so much from these foreign scourings, with what thirst for
revenge, with what stubborn faith, with what devotion, with what tears.
What door would be closed to him? Who would refuse obedience to him?
What envy would hinder him? What Italian would refuse him homage? To all
of us this barbarous dominion stinks. Let, therefore, your illustrious
house take up this charge with that courage and hope with which all
just enterprises are undertaken, so that under its standard our native
country may be ennobled, and under its auspices may be verified that
saying of Petrarch:

     Virtu contro al Furore
     Prendera l'arme, e fia il combatter corto:
     Che l'antico valore
     Negli italici cuor non e ancor morto.

     Virtue against fury shall advance the fight,
     And it i' th' combat soon shall put to flight:
     For the old Roman valour is not dead,
     Nor in th' Italians' brests extinguished.

     Edward Dacre, 1640.

An Exhortation to Free Italy from the Hands of the Barbarians Italy's current disarray favors the emergence of a new prince who will bring happiness to the Italian people. Until recently, there had been a prince who seemed ordained by heaven to redeem Italy. But a string of bad luck has prevented such an outcome. Lorenzo de' Medici is Italy's best hope. If he has learned from the great men named in The Prince, the salvation of Italy will not be difficult. For though those men were great, they were still only men, with no greater opportunities or grace than Lorenzo's own. Past wars and princes have failed to strengthen Italy because its military system was old and defective. To succeed, Lorenzo must create a national army. The Italian people are good fighters; only their leaders have failed. Lorenzo's army needs both good cavalry and infantry to defeat the Spaniards and the Swiss. Should a prince ever succeed in redeeming Italy, he would receive unending glory and be embraced in all the provinces with love.

Chapter XXV discusses the role of fortune in the determination of human affairs. Many thinkers have considered the question of whether a man's actions are a manifestation of his own free will, or if they are simply determined by fate or his environment. Machiavelli attempts to compromise between free will and determinism by arguing that fortune controls half of human actions and leaves the other half to free will. But Machiavelli also argues that, through foresight--a quality whose importance Machiavelli stresses throughout The Prince--people can shield themselves against fortune's slings and arrows. Thus, Machiavelli can be described as confident in the capabilities of human beings to shape their destinies, but skeptical that such control is absolute. Machiavelli ends The Prince with an impassioned plea to redeem Italy. Stylistically, he abandons his detached tone and utilizes exhortation and poetry to communicate nationalistic fervor. He implores Lorenzo, to whom the book is dedicated, to deliver Italy. Despite Machiavelli's efforts, the country would not be truly unified for another three and a half centuries. Some have argued that The Prince is really the manifestation of Machievelli's desire to see a strengthened Italy, not a detached work of political science. Historical references to Italy dominate the book, and Machiavelli clearly conceives the book as a means to expedite the successful unification of Italy. But The Prince's clear application to Machiavelli's home country does not distract from the book's relevance to philosophical questions. At the very least, it must be said that the book's influence spread further than the specific audience to which it was addressed. A desire to strengthen Italy might also serve as Machiavelli's ethical justification for the advice he has given. Machiavelli has previously argued that a prince cannot achieve success without sometimes resorting to ruthlessness. But Machiavelli never justifies the obtainment of political success as a worthwhile goal in itself. His concern with Italy would justify his logic: if the ultimate end is the glory of Italy, the end would justify the means. The Prince is full of historical references, but the final chapters place the book in a historical context. Moreover, these chapters give us some insight into the mind of the author and his motives for writing the book. They suggest that Machiavelli is not as diabolical as he is often portrayed


The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex.  Their estate
was large, and their residence was at Norland Park, in the centre of
their property, where, for many generations, they had lived in so
respectable a manner as to engage the general good opinion of their
surrounding acquaintance.  The late owner of this estate was a single
man, who lived to a very advanced age, and who for many years of his
life, had a constant companion and housekeeper in his sister.  But her
death, which happened ten years before his own, produced a great
alteration in his home; for to supply her loss, he invited and received
into his house the family of his nephew Mr. Henry Dashwood, the legal
inheritor of the Norland estate, and the person to whom he intended to
bequeath it.  In the society of his nephew and niece, and their
children, the old Gentleman's days were comfortably spent.  His
attachment to them all increased.  The constant attention of Mr. and
Mrs. Henry Dashwood to his wishes, which proceeded not merely from
interest, but from goodness of heart, gave him every degree of solid
comfort which his age could receive; and the cheerfulness of the
children added a relish to his existence.

By a former marriage, Mr. Henry Dashwood had one son: by his present
lady, three daughters.  The son, a steady respectable young man, was
amply provided for by the fortune of his mother, which had been large,
and half of which devolved on him on his coming of age.  By his own
marriage, likewise, which happened soon afterwards, he added to his
wealth.  To him therefore the succession to the Norland estate was not
so really important as to his sisters; for their fortune, independent
of what might arise to them from their father's inheriting that
property, could be but small.  Their mother had nothing, and their
father only seven thousand pounds in his own disposal; for the
remaining moiety of his first wife's fortune was also secured to her
child, and he had only a life-interest in it.

The old gentleman died: his will was read, and like almost every other
will, gave as much disappointment as pleasure.  He was neither so
unjust, nor so ungrateful, as to leave his estate from his nephew;--but
he left it to him on such terms as destroyed half the value of the
bequest.  Mr. Dashwood had wished for it more for the sake of his wife
and daughters than for himself or his son;--but to his son, and his
son's son, a child of four years old, it was secured, in such a way, as
to leave to himself no power of providing for those who were most dear
to him, and who most needed a provision by any charge on the estate, or
by any sale of its valuable woods.  The whole was tied up for the
benefit of this child, who, in occasional visits with his father and
mother at Norland, had so far gained on the affections of his uncle, by
such attractions as are by no means unusual in children of two or three
years old; an imperfect articulation, an earnest desire of having his
own way, many cunning tricks, and a great deal of noise, as to outweigh
all the value of all the attention which, for years, he had received
from his niece and her daughters.  He meant not to be unkind, however,
and, as a mark of his affection for the three girls, he left them a
thousand pounds a-piece.

Mr. Dashwood's disappointment was, at first, severe; but his temper was
cheerful and sanguine; and he might reasonably hope to live many years,
and by living economically, lay by a considerable sum from the produce
of an estate already large, and capable of almost immediate
improvement.  But the fortune, which had been so tardy in coming, was
his only one twelvemonth.  He survived his uncle no longer; and ten
thousand pounds, including the late legacies, was all that remained for
his widow and daughters.

His son was sent for as soon as his danger was known, and to him Mr.
Dashwood recommended, with all the strength and urgency which illness
could command, the interest of his mother-in-law and sisters.

Mr. John Dashwood had not the strong feelings of the rest of the
family; but he was affected by a recommendation of such a nature at
such a time, and he promised to do every thing in his power to make
them comfortable.  His father was rendered easy by such an assurance,
and Mr. John Dashwood had then leisure to consider how much there might
prudently be in his power to do for them.

He was not an ill-disposed young man, unless to be rather cold hearted
and rather selfish is to be ill-disposed: but he was, in general, well
respected; for he conducted himself with propriety in the discharge of
his ordinary duties.  Had he married a more amiable woman, he might
have been made still more respectable than he was:--he might even have
been made amiable himself; for he was very young when he married, and
very fond of his wife.  But Mrs. John Dashwood was a strong caricature
of himself;--more narrow-minded and selfish.

When he gave his promise to his father, he meditated within himself to
increase the fortunes of his sisters by the present of a thousand
pounds a-piece.  He then really thought himself equal to it.  The
prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income,
besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune, warmed his
heart, and made him feel capable of generosity.-- "Yes, he would give
them three thousand pounds: it would be liberal and handsome! It would
be enough to make them completely easy.  Three thousand pounds! he
could spare so considerable a sum with little inconvenience."-- He
thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did
not repent.

No sooner was his father's funeral over, than Mrs. John Dashwood,
without sending any notice of her intention to her mother-in-law,
arrived with her child and their attendants.  No one could dispute her
right to come; the house was her husband's from the moment of his
father's decease; but the indelicacy of her conduct was so much the
greater, and to a woman in Mrs. Dashwood's situation, with only common
feelings, must have been highly unpleasing;--but in HER mind there was
a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic, that any offence of
the kind, by whomsoever given or received, was to her a source of
immovable disgust.  Mrs. John Dashwood had never been a favourite with
any of her husband's family; but she had had no opportunity, till the
present, of shewing them with how little attention to the comfort of
other people she could act when occasion required it.

So acutely did Mrs. Dashwood feel this ungracious behaviour, and so
earnestly did she despise her daughter-in-law for it, that, on the
arrival of the latter, she would have quitted the house for ever, had
not the entreaty of her eldest girl induced her first to reflect on the
propriety of going, and her own tender love for all her three children
determined her afterwards to stay, and for their sakes avoid a breach
with their brother.

Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed
a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified
her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and
enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all,
that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led
to imprudence.  She had an excellent heart;--her disposition was
affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern
them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which
one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught.

Marianne's abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor's.
She was sensible and clever; but eager in everything: her sorrows, her
joys, could have no moderation.  She was generous, amiable,
interesting: she was everything but prudent.  The resemblance between
her and her mother was strikingly great.

Elinor saw, with concern, the excess of her sister's sensibility; but
by Mrs. Dashwood it was valued and cherished.  They encouraged each
other now in the violence of their affliction.  The agony of grief
which overpowered them at first, was voluntarily renewed, was sought
for, was created again and again.  They gave themselves up wholly to
their sorrow, seeking increase of wretchedness in every reflection that
could afford it, and resolved against ever admitting consolation in
future.  Elinor, too, was deeply afflicted; but still she could
struggle, she could exert herself.  She could consult with her brother,
could receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with
proper attention; and could strive to rouse her mother to similar
exertion, and encourage her to similar forbearance.

Margaret, the other sister, was a good-humored, well-disposed girl; but
as she had already imbibed a good deal of Marianne's romance, without
having much of her sense, she did not, at thirteen, bid fair to equal
her sisters at a more advanced period of life.

The Dashwood family is introduced; they live at Norland Park, an estate in Sussex, which has been in their family for many years. Henry Dashwood has a son by a previous marriage, who is well-off because of his long-deceased mother's fortune; Mr. Dashwood also has three daughters by his present wife, who are left with very little when he dies and the estate goes to his son. Before Mr. Dashwood dies, he asks his son to promise to help his step-mother, and John Dashwood agrees; however, his son John is also selfish, and fails to really help his step-mother and half-sisters as he promised to do. John's wife comes far too soon to the home, giving the Dashwoods little time to grieve before they are reminded that they are to vacate the premises. Mrs. Dashwood is very angry at this lack of propriety that she almost storms out; but Elinor, her oldest daughter, persuades her to stay and keep good relations with her stepson. Elinor is entirely sensible and prudent, able to handle people and situations very delicately; her sister, Marianne, is very emotional and never moderate, lacking some of the good sense that Elinor has. While Marianne and her mother are allowing themselves to drown in grief, Elinor is grieving too but also attending to matters at hand. Margaret, the youngest sister, is young and good-natured, and not as extreme in either sense or sensibility as the other two.

The themes of money and inheritance are of immediate importance in the novel; the Dashwood women are immediately cast into a dire situation, since none of them have money themselves, cannot inherit because they are women, and cannot earn a living either. Gender is also a deciding issue in this, since the reason they cannot keep Mr. Dashwood's property or money is because women are not legally entitled to receive or own property at this point in history. Austen contrasts the poor situation of the Dashwood women with that of his older son, who is already very wealthy, and so provides social commentary on the practices of the time; that the son become even richer, while his step-mother and half-sisters are left with nothing, is very unfair, yet is upheld by outdated laws which require this to be so. Already, Austen finds an object of ridicule in John Dashwood; her tone is cynical and mocking when she notes that John is "not ill-disposedunless to be cold-hearted, and rather selfish, is to be ill-disposed. His wife is even less kind than he, with Austen pointing this out through her tone; Austen makes note of the "indelicacy" of Mrs. John Dashwood's conduct, and derides her for showing "little attention to the comfort of other people". The conflict of the title, between sense and sensibility, is introduced through the characters of Elinor and Marianne. Elinor restrains and tempers her emotions with good sense and careful judgment; Marianne does not restrain herself at all, and lacks Elinor's ability to act with prudence. Austen describes them in a much more positive light than she does with John Dashwood and his wife, yet her descriptions indicate that both are perhaps missing something. Marianne is intemperate, and Elinor always very cautious; they are both extremes, and will undoubtedly become more moderate by the end of Austen's novel

We begin with a history of the Dashwood family of Sussex, England: the head of the family, old Mr. Dashwood, dies and distributes his estate among his surviving relatives: his nephew, Henry Dashwood, and his children. The children include one son, John, from a first marriage, and three daughters, Elinor, Marianne, and Margaret, from his second. Even though John and his wife already have plenty of money, old Mr. Dashwood bequeaths the family estate, Norland, to the couple's young son. However, it seems that everything will be fine for Henry and his family, since they receive a good share of the fortune. Tragically, this arrangement doesn't last long - Henry Dashwood dies, and his estate, including the money he'd recently inherited from his uncle, is re-distributed amongst his wife and children. John and his wife step in here to take control of Norland. Though his father urged him to take care of his stepmother and half-sisters, John's greedy wife convinces him to give the women as little financial help as possible. Basically, John Dashwood and his wife move right in to Norland after the funeral, and give Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters no choice but to leave their home and find a new one. Mrs. Dashwood, who, it must be said, is something of a flighty lady, wants to storm off right away, but her sensible eldest daughter, Elinor, convinces her to stay until they can figure out a new situation. The middle daughter, Marianne, is just as clever as her older sister, but she's far more emotional - no degree of cleverness can keep her romantic notions in check. About the youngest girl, Margaret, not much as said - she's as emotional as Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne, but nowhere near as smart.

For many years, Henry Dashwood and his family had lived at Norland Park and cared for its owner, Henry's aged uncle. On the old man's death, Henry inherited the estate. He had always expected that he would be free to leave it, in turn, to be shared among his wife and three daughters. John, his son by a previous marriage, was amply provided for. His mother had left him a large estate, and his wife further increased his wealth with a handsome dowry. However, when the old man's will was read, Henry found to his dismay that he would not be able to dispose of the estate. The uncle had been wooed by John's young son and wished to procure the estate for him by tying it up in favor of "his son and his son's son." This meant that Henry's wife and daughters could inherit only such money as he could save for them, which turned out to be 10,000 pounds. Henry survived his uncle by only one year. When he was dying, he sent for John and begged him, "with all the strength and urgency which illness could command," to look after his stepmother and stepsisters. Moved by this plea, John promised "to do everything in his power to make them comfortable." One thousand pounds for each daughter would be fair, he decided, and would leave them quite comfortable. John was "rather cold-hearted, and rather selfish." He had married young and his wife had great influence over him. She was "a strong caricature of himself; more narrow-minded and selfish." Immediately after Henry's funeral, without notice, Mrs. John Dashwood moved into Norland Park with her small son and her servants. This insensitive behavior was bitterly resented by Mrs. Dashwood, who thought of leaving Norland Park at once. Elinor prudently restrained her. Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters were a devoted family. Elinor, nineteen, was sufficiently mature and well-balanced "to be the counsellor of her mother," a good-hearted woman who tended to be imprudent. Marianne, though clever and sensible, was extreme in her emotions. She was "generous, amiable, interesting: . . . everything but prudent" and thus much resembled her mother. Margaret, thirteen, was an immature girl who took after Marianne rather than Elinor. Marianne and her mother "gave themselves up wholly to their sorrow," encouraging each other "in the violence of their affliction." Elinor suffered too, but she managed to "receive her sister-in-law on her arrival, and treat her with proper attention." She prevailed on her mother and Marianne to do likewise.

In this opening chapter, Austen sets the scene with her usual clarity and precision. The reader meets most of the leading characters and is given insight into their personalities and temperaments. It is obvious that this is to be a story of opposing temperaments -- Marianne's excessive "sensibility" contrasted to Elinor's calm common sense. The reader is plunged into a world which is socially and linguistically very different from the world of today. Austen is writing a "comedy of manners," or "domestic comedy." As a novelist, she narrows her outlook to the people of her own class -- country gentlemen and their families whose main concern is their social status and the comforts it brings them. Owning property is essential to social status, which explains Henry Dashwood's deep disappointment when he finds that he cannot bequeath Norland Park to his wife and daughters. Also, the meager fortune with which the girls are provided makes their prospects for a good marriage rather dismal.

Mr. Henry Dashwood is leading a comfortable and happy life with his family at Norland Estate, which belongs to his uncle. He is the rightful heir to the property. However, after his uncle's death, it is revealed that his son, John Dashwood, and his grandson, Harry, are to inherit the estate. Mr. Henry Dashwood is obviously disappointed. He is concerned about the welfare of his wife and three daughters, who might have to lead a simple life with a very modest income. Before he dies, he calls his son, John, to his side and asks him to support Mrs. Dashwood and the girls. John decides to give his sisters three thousand pounds. In the meantime, Fanny Dashwood, John's wife, arrives at Norland Estate and soon takes charge of the house. She adopts an air of condescension towards her in-laws. Mrs. Dashwood feels slighted. Her daughters, especially Elinor, understand her plight but are helpless to improve their situation.

Notes In this chapter Jane Austen presents the circumstances which place the main characters of the novel, Mrs. Dashwood and her children, in a difficult situation. The novel opens with the death of the elder Mr. Dashwood, who was a bachelor and the owner of the Norland Estate. His nephew, Henry, and his family have been living with him and looking after his needs. Naturally, they expect to be named the inheritors of the estate. However, they are shocked when the will is read after the old man's death. Mr. John Dashwood, the old man's grand nephew, and his son, Harry, are declared the inheritors of the property. The turn in the fortunes of Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters thus becomes the starting point for the novel. The chapter also gives a family portrait of the Dashwoods. The reader is presented with sketches of all the characters, from the elder Mr. Dashwood to little Harry. Old Mr. Dashwood is a kind but eccentric man who leaves the best part of his property not to his nephew, who looked after him, but to his grand nephew, who was only a visitor in his house. The nephew, Henry Dashwood, is a good man with a 'cheerful and sanguine' temperament. Mrs. Dashwood is a sensitive woman with "a sense of honor so keen, a generosity so romantic" that she finds it difficult to tolerate the arrogant behavior of her daughter-in-law. Fanny Dashwood is an avaricious, 'narrow-minded and selfish' woman who does not mind hurting her in-laws' feelings. John Dashwood is "not an ill- disposed young man," but he is overpowered by his domineering wife. Elinor is good sense personified, while Marianne is idealistic and romantic. Margaret is a good-natured girl who resembles Marianne in her fanciful ideas. Harry is the spoiled child of Fanny and John Dashwood. His cunning tricks have won over the heart of old Mr. Dashwood and induced him to make the little boy the actual inheritor of Norland Estate. This chapter also introduces the main theme of the novel: sense versus sensibility. Elinor is presented as a girl who possesses not only good looks but good sense, too, which makes her the decision-maker in the family. Marianne is the opposite of her in temperament. She is impulsive and is guided only by her sensibility  CHAPTER 2 Summary This chapter is a continuation of the previous chapter. The presence of Fanny Dashwood at Norland changes the atmosphere of the house. She acts as the mistress of the house and treats her in-laws as mere visitors. Mrs. Dashwood tolerates her daughter- in-law's imposing manner only because of John, who is civil to everyone. However, Fanny succeeds in changing her husband's decision to assist his sisters financially. Therefore, John, who had made up his mind to give his sisters three thousand pounds, now decides against giving them anything. He is obviously under the influence of his wife. Notes This short chapter exposes the true nature of Fanny. She is rude, selfish and greedy. She arrives at Norland and immediately takes control of the house, without being asked to do so. She is in a hurry to establish herself as the mistress of the house. Through her imposing manner, she hurts the feelings of her mother-in-law and places her in an awkward position. She is cunning and crafty as well. When John reveals to her his plans to give his sisters money, she is shocked. However, instead of expressing her anger to him, she slowly but surely manages to convince him against providing any aid to Mrs. Dashwood or her daughters. John is dim-witted and does not see through Fanny's scheming nature. In fact, he is thankful to her for her advice and is quite satisfied with her reasoning. The scene between John and Fanny Dashwood is one of the most humorous scenes in the novel. John Dashwood, like a devoted husband, tells his wife about his plans to give three thousand pounds to his sisters. Fanny is aghast at his generosity, but she does not throw a fit or chastise him. She overpowers her husband with sweet talk, sly reasoning and mild assertion. She appears to agree with him but ends up disagreeing. When John mentions his promise to his father, Fanny argues, "Well, then, let something be done for them; but that something need not be three thousand pounds. Consider. . . that when the money is once parted with, it never can return. Your sisters will marry, and it will be gone for ever. If, indeed, it could ever be restored to our poor little boy--" She tries to sound reasonable and plays on his sentiments. John is too weak to resist her logic and sees sense in her reasoning. He finds her argument "irresistible. It gave to his intentions whatever of decision was wanting before: and he finally resolved, that it would be absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the widow and children of his father, than such kind of neighborly acts as his own wife pointed out." It is evident how malleable John is in his wife's hands.


Mrs. John Dashwood now installed herself mistress of Norland; and her
mother and sisters-in-law were degraded to the condition of visitors.
As such, however, they were treated by her with quiet civility; and by
her husband with as much kindness as he could feel towards anybody
beyond himself, his wife, and their child.  He really pressed them,
with some earnestness, to consider Norland as their home; and, as no
plan appeared so eligible to Mrs. Dashwood as remaining there till she
could accommodate herself with a house in the neighbourhood, his
invitation was accepted.

A continuance in a place where everything reminded her of former
delight, was exactly what suited her mind.  In seasons of cheerfulness,
no temper could be more cheerful than hers, or possess, in a greater
degree, that sanguine expectation of happiness which is happiness
itself.  But in sorrow she must be equally carried away by her fancy,
and as far beyond consolation as in pleasure she was beyond alloy.

Mrs. John Dashwood did not at all approve of what her husband intended
to do for his sisters.  To take three thousand pounds from the fortune
of their dear little boy would be impoverishing him to the most
dreadful degree.  She begged him to think again on the subject.  How
could he answer it to himself to rob his child, and his only child too,
of so large a sum?  And what possible claim could the Miss Dashwoods,
who were related to him only by half blood, which she considered as no
relationship at all, have on his generosity to so large an amount.  It
was very well known that no affection was ever supposed to exist
between the children of any man by different marriages; and why was he
to ruin himself, and their poor little Harry, by giving away all his
money to his half sisters?

"It was my father's last request to me," replied her husband, "that I
should assist his widow and daughters."

"He did not know what he was talking of, I dare say; ten to one but he
was light-headed at the time.  Had he been in his right senses, he
could not have thought of such a thing as begging you to give away half
your fortune from your own child."

"He did not stipulate for any particular sum, my dear Fanny; he only
requested me, in general terms, to assist them, and make their
situation more comfortable than it was in his power to do.  Perhaps it
would have been as well if he had left it wholly to myself.  He could
hardly suppose I should neglect them.  But as he required the promise,
I could not do less than give it; at least I thought so at the time.
The promise, therefore, was given, and must be performed.  Something
must be done for them whenever they leave Norland and settle in a new
home."

"Well, then, LET something be done for them; but THAT something need
not be three thousand pounds.  Consider," she added, "that when the
money is once parted with, it never can return.  Your sisters will
marry, and it will be gone for ever.  If, indeed, it could be restored
to our poor little boy--"

"Why, to be sure," said her husband, very gravely, "that would make
great difference.  The time may come when Harry will regret that so
large a sum was parted with.  If he should have a numerous family, for
instance, it would be a very convenient addition."

"To be sure it would."

"Perhaps, then, it would be better for all parties, if the sum were
diminished one half.--Five hundred pounds would be a prodigious
increase to their fortunes!"

"Oh! beyond anything great!  What brother on earth would do half so
much for his sisters, even if REALLY his sisters!  And as it is--only
half blood!--But you have such a generous spirit!"

"I would not wish to do any thing mean," he replied.  "One had rather,
on such occasions, do too much than too little.  No one, at least, can
think I have not done enough for them: even themselves, they can hardly
expect more."

"There is no knowing what THEY may expect," said the lady, "but we are
not to think of their expectations: the question is, what you can
afford to do."

"Certainly--and I think I may afford to give them five hundred pounds
a-piece.  As it is, without any addition of mine, they will each have
about three thousand pounds on their mother's death--a very comfortable
fortune for any young woman."

"To be sure it is; and, indeed, it strikes me that they can want no
addition at all.  They will have ten thousand pounds divided amongst
them.  If they marry, they will be sure of doing well, and if they do
not, they may all live very comfortably together on the interest of ten
thousand pounds."

"That is very true, and, therefore, I do not know whether, upon the
whole, it would not be more advisable to do something for their mother
while she lives, rather than for them--something of the annuity kind I
mean.--My sisters would feel the good effects of it as well as herself.
A hundred a year would make them all perfectly comfortable."

His wife hesitated a little, however, in giving her consent to this
plan.

"To be sure," said she, "it is better than parting with fifteen hundred
pounds at once.  But, then, if Mrs. Dashwood should live fifteen years
we shall be completely taken in."

"Fifteen years! my dear Fanny; her life cannot be worth half that
purchase."

"Certainly not; but if you observe, people always live for ever when
there is an annuity to be paid them; and she is very stout and healthy,
and hardly forty.  An annuity is a very serious business; it comes over
and over every year, and there is no getting rid of it.  You are not
aware of what you are doing.  I have known a great deal of the trouble
of annuities; for my mother was clogged with the payment of three to
old superannuated servants by my father's will, and it is amazing how
disagreeable she found it.  Twice every year these annuities were to be
paid; and then there was the trouble of getting it to them; and then
one of them was said to have died, and afterwards it turned out to be
no such thing.  My mother was quite sick of it.  Her income was not her
own, she said, with such perpetual claims on it; and it was the more
unkind in my father, because, otherwise, the money would have been
entirely at my mother's disposal, without any restriction whatever.  It
has given me such an abhorrence of annuities, that I am sure I would
not pin myself down to the payment of one for all the world."

"It is certainly an unpleasant thing," replied Mr. Dashwood, "to have
those kind of yearly drains on one's income.  One's fortune, as your
mother justly says, is NOT one's own.  To be tied down to the regular
payment of such a sum, on every rent day, is by no means desirable: it
takes away one's independence."

"Undoubtedly; and after all you have no thanks for it.  They think
themselves secure, you do no more than what is expected, and it raises
no gratitude at all.  If I were you, whatever I did should be done at
my own discretion entirely.  I would not bind myself to allow them any
thing yearly.  It may be very inconvenient some years to spare a
hundred, or even fifty pounds from our own expenses."

"I believe you are right, my love; it will be better that there should
be no annuity in the case; whatever I may give them occasionally will
be of far greater assistance than a yearly allowance, because they
would only enlarge their style of living if they felt sure of a larger
income, and would not be sixpence the richer for it at the end of the
year.  It will certainly be much the best way.  A present of fifty
pounds, now and then, will prevent their ever being distressed for
money, and will, I think, be amply discharging my promise to my father."

"To be sure it will.  Indeed, to say the truth, I am convinced within
myself that your father had no idea of your giving them any money at
all.  The assistance he thought of, I dare say, was only such as might
be reasonably expected of you; for instance, such as looking out for a
comfortable small house for them, helping them to move their things,
and sending them presents of fish and game, and so forth, whenever they
are in season.  I'll lay my life that he meant nothing farther; indeed,
it would be very strange and unreasonable if he did.  Do but consider,
my dear Mr. Dashwood, how excessively comfortable your mother-in-law
and her daughters may live on the interest of seven thousand pounds,
besides the thousand pounds belonging to each of the girls, which
brings them in fifty pounds a year a-piece, and, of course, they will
pay their mother for their board out of it.  Altogether, they will have
five hundred a-year amongst them, and what on earth can four women want
for more than that?--They will live so cheap! Their housekeeping will
be nothing at all.  They will have no carriage, no horses, and hardly
any servants; they will keep no company, and can have no expenses of
any kind!  Only conceive how comfortable they will be!  Five hundred a
year! I am sure I cannot imagine how they will spend half of it; and as
to your giving them more, it is quite absurd to think of it.  They will
be much more able to give YOU something."

"Upon my word," said Mr. Dashwood, "I believe you are perfectly right.
My father certainly could mean nothing more by his request to me than
what you say.  I clearly understand it now, and I will strictly fulfil
my engagement by such acts of assistance and kindness to them as you
have described.  When my mother removes into another house my services
shall be readily given to accommodate her as far as I can.  Some little
present of furniture too may be acceptable then."

"Certainly," returned Mrs. John Dashwood.  "But, however, ONE thing
must be considered.  When your father and mother moved to Norland,
though the furniture of Stanhill was sold, all the china, plate, and
linen was saved, and is now left to your mother.  Her house will
therefore be almost completely fitted up as soon as she takes it."

"That is a material consideration undoubtedly.  A valuable legacy
indeed! And yet some of the plate would have been a very pleasant
addition to our own stock here."

"Yes; and the set of breakfast china is twice as handsome as what
belongs to this house.  A great deal too handsome, in my opinion, for
any place THEY can ever afford to live in.  But, however, so it is.
Your father thought only of THEM.  And I must say this: that you owe no
particular gratitude to him, nor attention to his wishes; for we very
well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything in the
world to THEM."

This argument was irresistible.  It gave to his intentions whatever of
decision was wanting before; and he finally resolved, that it would be
absolutely unnecessary, if not highly indecorous, to do more for the
widow and children of his father, than such kind of neighbourly acts as
his own wife pointed out.

Mrs. John Dashwood immediately takes over as mistress of the estate, as Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters become visitors in their former home. Mrs. John Dashwood also questions the extent of her husband's generosity; she advises her husband not to give too much lest it diminish the future inheritance of their son. She talks him down from a gift of a thousand pounds apiece, to occasionally giving them help, of a non-financial sort. Fanny reasons that they will have no expenses and more than enough money; she figures that the four of them will be better off on their five hundred pounds a year than herself and her husband, although they have many thousands at their disposal. So, John resolves to only do nice things for them on occasion, and forget any ideas of giving them money at all.

Mrs. John Dashwood, or Fanny, is revealed here as a creature even more selfish and uncaring as her husband. The coldness and selfishness of her logic is plainly exposed by Austen, as further ridicule of her greed in this situation. That Fanny Dashwood can confidently claim that the Dashwood women will be comfortably off with very little money, and their home taken from them, is obviously untrue. Fanny is certainly greedy in denying that Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters should have no need, while Fanny and her husband are depriving them of much of their former money and their home too. That John Dashwood finds his wife's argument "irresistible" shows how he relies on his wife to confirm any miserly tendencies he may have. She is even more selfish and uncaring than he is, which helps him to justify himself when he acts much the same. It is perhaps ironic that John Dashwood's wife brings out the worst in him rather than the best, and that they can be so miserly in the face of misfortune, but this same irony is a part of human nature

After moving in to Norland, Mrs. John Dashwood and her henpecked husband try to decide how much financial support to give to his sisters. Though John initially has a rather generous plan to give each of the girls a thousand pounds , his wife has other ideas - she complains that to remove a total of three thousand pounds from their young son's inheritance would be too cruel. John protests that it was his father's last wish that he should take care of his half-sisters. Again, Fanny brushes him off, saying that the dying man probably didn't even known what he was talking about. John then lowers the amount to five hundred pounds each - surely that's enough? Fanny agrees that's plenty of money. In fact, to her, fifteen hundred pounds altogether is still too much money to part with. OK, back to the drawing board. John has the idea that perhaps he should give money to Mrs. Dashwood, instead, to benefit the whole family - say, one hundred pounds a year. Once again, Fanny shoots him down; after all, she says cruelly, what if Mrs. Dashwood lives more than fifteen years? Then they would be out more than fifteen hundred pounds in total. John agrees - after all, paying an annuity is such a hassle. In the end, the couple settles on a simple solution: they won't give the Dashwood any money, except for the occasional small gift here and there. After all, they reason, what can a household of four women need any money for? Fanny, of course, has to have the final word - she bemoans the fact that Mrs. Dashwood got all the nice china and furniture from Norland .

Installed in Norland Park, Mrs. John Dashwood treated her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law with "quiet civility" while determined to defeat any attempt to provide for them financially. John Dashwood, still moved by the memory of his father's death, begged them to consider Norland Park their home until they could find a suitable house. Aghast at his proposal to give his half-sisters a thousand pounds apiece, Fanny began to offer her husband persuasive arguments to make him pare the sum down -- first to five hundred pounds and finally to nothing. She first made him think of their poor son, of whom they would be depriving the money. Then, after he had divided the sum in half, she appealed to the fact that the girls really didn't need so much money -- as their social life would be limited, their expenses would be negligible. When John decided on giving them only some furniture, Fanny returned with the argument that the linen and china left them by their father should amply furnish their new quarters. She finally got him to believe that he owed no gratitude to his father at all: "Your father thought only of them. . . . e very well know that if he could, he would have left almost everything in the world to them." This rationale made John's ultimate decision an easy one. He decided that he need do no more for his stepmother and half-sisters than send them occasional gifts of fish and game, a very generous thought, he believed, all considered.

Some of the finest examples of Austen's ironic writing are found in the scene in which John Dashwood is persuaded not to help his relatives financially. "I would not wish to do anything mean," he says complacently -- and moments later decides to give them nothing. And his wife reminds him, "They will have no carriage, no horses, and hardly any servants; they will keep no company, and can have no expenses of any kind! Only conceive how comfortable they will be!" John Dashwood needs only the excuse, which his wife happily gives him, to deprive his relations of money which they desperately need to facilitate their already desperate condition. Once he has been able to rationalize his ruthlessness with the weakest arguments possible, he easily clears his conscience of all subsequent responsibility. Unlike contemporary novelists, Jane Austen never describes cruelty explicitly. Instead, she uses what critic Mark Schorer calls "verbal brutalities" to shock the reader into seeing the cruelty that underlies social pride. Fanny Dashwood, in this chapter, coolly urges her husband to be incredibly callous and selfish toward his stepmother and half-sisters. Although she never says so in plain words, she obviously delights in the prospect of near-penury for the Dashwoods and even begrudges her mother-in-law the china, linen, and plate that have been left to her by her husband.


Mrs. Dashwood remained at Norland several months; not from any
disinclination to move when the sight of every well known spot ceased
to raise the violent emotion which it produced for a while; for when
her spirits began to revive, and her mind became capable of some other
exertion than that of heightening its affliction by melancholy
remembrances, she was impatient to be gone, and indefatigable in her
inquiries for a suitable dwelling in the neighbourhood of Norland; for
to remove far from that beloved spot was impossible.  But she could
hear of no situation that at once answered her notions of comfort and
ease, and suited the prudence of her eldest daughter, whose steadier
judgment rejected several houses as too large for their income, which
her mother would have approved.

Mrs. Dashwood had been informed by her husband of the solemn promise on
the part of his son in their favour, which gave comfort to his last
earthly reflections.  She doubted the sincerity of this assurance no
more than he had doubted it himself, and she thought of it for her
daughters' sake with satisfaction, though as for herself she was
persuaded that a much smaller provision than 7000L would support her in
affluence.  For their brother's sake, too, for the sake of his own
heart, she rejoiced; and she reproached herself for being unjust to his
merit before, in believing him incapable of generosity.  His attentive
behaviour to herself and his sisters convinced her that their welfare
was dear to him, and, for a long time, she firmly relied on the
liberality of his intentions.

The contempt which she had, very early in their acquaintance, felt for
her daughter-in-law, was very much increased by the farther knowledge
of her character, which half a year's residence in her family afforded;
and perhaps in spite of every consideration of politeness or maternal
affection on the side of the former, the two ladies might have found it
impossible to have lived together so long, had not a particular
circumstance occurred to give still greater eligibility, according to
the opinions of Mrs. Dashwood, to her daughters' continuance at Norland.

This circumstance was a growing attachment between her eldest girl and
the brother of Mrs. John Dashwood, a gentleman-like and pleasing young
man, who was introduced to their acquaintance soon after his sister's
establishment at Norland, and who had since spent the greatest part of
his time there.

Some mothers might have encouraged the intimacy from motives of
interest, for Edward Ferrars was the eldest son of a man who had died
very rich; and some might have repressed it from motives of prudence,
for, except a trifling sum, the whole of his fortune depended on the
will of his mother.  But Mrs. Dashwood was alike uninfluenced by either
consideration.  It was enough for her that he appeared to be amiable,
that he loved her daughter, and that Elinor returned the partiality.
It was contrary to every doctrine of hers that difference of fortune
should keep any couple asunder who were attracted by resemblance of
disposition; and that Elinor's merit should not be acknowledged by
every one who knew her, was to her comprehension impossible.

Edward Ferrars was not recommended to their good opinion by any
peculiar graces of person or address.  He was not handsome, and his
manners required intimacy to make them pleasing.  He was too diffident
to do justice to himself; but when his natural shyness was overcome,
his behaviour gave every indication of an open, affectionate heart.
His understanding was good, and his education had given it solid
improvement.  But he was neither fitted by abilities nor disposition to
answer the wishes of his mother and sister, who longed to see him
distinguished--as--they hardly knew what.  They wanted him to make a
fine figure in the world in some manner or other.  His mother wished to
interest him in political concerns, to get him into parliament, or to
see him connected with some of the great men of the day.  Mrs. John
Dashwood wished it likewise; but in the mean while, till one of these
superior blessings could be attained, it would have quieted her
ambition to see him driving a barouche.  But Edward had no turn for
great men or barouches.  All his wishes centered in domestic comfort
and the quiet of private life.  Fortunately he had a younger brother
who was more promising.

Edward had been staying several weeks in the house before he engaged
much of Mrs. Dashwood's attention; for she was, at that time, in such
affliction as rendered her careless of surrounding objects.  She saw
only that he was quiet and unobtrusive, and she liked him for it.  He
did not disturb the wretchedness of her mind by ill-timed conversation.
She was first called to observe and approve him farther, by a
reflection which Elinor chanced one day to make on the difference
between him and his sister.  It was a contrast which recommended him
most forcibly to her mother.

"It is enough," said she; "to say that he is unlike Fanny is enough.
It implies everything amiable.  I love him already."

"I think you will like him," said Elinor, "when you know more of him."

"Like him!" replied her mother with a smile.  "I feel no sentiment of
approbation inferior to love."

"You may esteem him."

"I have never yet known what it was to separate esteem and love."

Mrs. Dashwood now took pains to get acquainted with him.  Her manners
were attaching, and soon banished his reserve.  She speedily
comprehended all his merits; the persuasion of his regard for Elinor
perhaps assisted her penetration; but she really felt assured of his
worth: and even that quietness of manner, which militated against all
her established ideas of what a young man's address ought to be, was no
longer uninteresting when she knew his heart to be warm and his temper
affectionate.

No sooner did she perceive any symptom of love in his behaviour to
Elinor, than she considered their serious attachment as certain, and
looked forward to their marriage as rapidly approaching.

"In a few months, my dear Marianne." said she, "Elinor will, in all
probability be settled for life.  We shall miss her; but SHE will be
happy."

"Oh! Mama, how shall we do without her?"

"My love, it will be scarcely a separation.  We shall live within a few
miles of each other, and shall meet every day of our lives.  You will
gain a brother, a real, affectionate brother.  I have the highest
opinion in the world of Edward's heart.  But you look grave, Marianne;
do you disapprove your sister's choice?"

"Perhaps," said Marianne, "I may consider it with some surprise.
Edward is very amiable, and I love him tenderly.  But yet--he is not
the kind of young man--there is something wanting--his figure is not
striking; it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man
who could seriously attach my sister.  His eyes want all that spirit,
that fire, which at once announce virtue and intelligence.  And besides
all this, I am afraid, Mama, he has no real taste.  Music seems
scarcely to attract him, and though he admires Elinor's drawings very
much, it is not the admiration of a person who can understand their
worth.  It is evident, in spite of his frequent attention to her while
she draws, that in fact he knows nothing of the matter.  He admires as
a lover, not as a connoisseur.  To satisfy me, those characters must be
united.  I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every
point coincide with my own.  He must enter into all my feelings; the
same books, the same music must charm us both.  Oh! mama, how
spiritless, how tame was Edward's manner in reading to us last night!
I felt for my sister most severely.  Yet she bore it with so much
composure, she seemed scarcely to notice it.  I could hardly keep my
seat.  To hear those beautiful lines which have frequently almost
driven me wild, pronounced with such impenetrable calmness, such
dreadful indifference!"

"He would certainly have done more justice to simple and elegant prose.
I thought so at the time; but you WOULD give him Cowper."

"Nay, Mama, if he is not to be animated by Cowper!--but we must allow
for difference of taste.  Elinor has not my feelings, and therefore she
may overlook it, and be happy with him.  But it would have broke MY
heart, had I loved him, to hear him read with so little sensibility.
Mama, the more I know of the world, the more am I convinced that I
shall never see a man whom I can really love.  I require so much!  He
must have all Edward's virtues, and his person and manners must
ornament his goodness with every possible charm."

"Remember, my love, that you are not seventeen.  It is yet too early in
life to despair of such a happiness.  Why should you be less fortunate
than your mother?  In one circumstance only, my Marianne, may your
destiny be different from hers!"

Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters stay at Norland for a few months, because it is difficult to find a new home which they can afford with their small income. She knows of John Dashwood's promise to his father, her late husband, and this reassures her; neither she nor her husband were certain of John's sincerity, but he has been kind to her and her daughters, which means that he feels some sort of obligation at least. However, she does not like Fanny Dashwood at all, and would have left Norland sooner had it not been for the friendship developing between Elinor and Edward Ferrars, Fanny's brother. Edward is very shy, but is a pleasant and kind person once people become familiar with him. Mrs. Dashwood is glad at the attraction between him and Elinor, more because he is nice and good-hearted than the fact that his family is very wealthy. Although his mother and sister have great ambitions for him, he is a very retiring sort, and wants a quiet life and peace instead. Mrs. Dashwood grows to admire him, and believes that the affection between him and Elinor will lead to marriage. However, Marianne does not approve so much, as she finds Edward less dashing and charming than is ideal. Marianne requires a man who is far more passionate yet has all of Edward's virtues; she despairs that she will never find such a man, though her mother reassures her.

Money again becomes an issue, as it will be a determining factor in how well the girls marry. Although Mrs. Dashwood believes that money will not prove to be much of an obstacle if a couple is in love, reality is that money does and will play a part in the Dashwood girls' hopes for marriage. Mrs. Dashwood is perhaps too hopeful and idealistic in her appraisal that there are no financial barriers to Elinor and Edward's relationship; for in Austen's time, women of good family but little money would certainly not be able to acquire a match with a wealthy, high-born gentleman like Edward. Austen's dry, witty tone is evident in her description of Edward coming into Mrs. Dashwood's favor; Austen states that Mrs. Dashwood only began to take notice of him after Elinor stated how different he was from his sister, and this "recommended him most forcibly" to Mrs. Dashwood. This sort of comment epitomizes the combination of understatement, a wry tone, and sharp observation which marks Austen's appraisal of an often ridiculous society and its less pleasing members. The contrast between Elinor and Marianne is highlighted through their ideas of a suitable man. Elinor's model of a suitable man is Edward, very virtuous, kind, though rather sedate. Marianne wants someone more dashing, artistic, and passionate, to coincide with her own interests and qualities. However, that she also says she would like a man with all of Edward's virtues foreshadows that she may end up with a man who is more sensible than she expects, and likely more tempered in his passions than she is

Mrs. Dashwood and her daughters remain at Norland for a number of months while they're trying to figure out what to do. She's convinced that John means well, but grows increasingly unhappy about Fanny. However, mother and daughter-in-law continue to coexist in relative peace for a single, pressing reason - Mrs. Dashwood doesn't want to move away just yet. It turns out that Elinor is in love with Fanny's brother, the mild-mannered, perfectly pleasant Edward . While Edward's mother and sister want him to become a successful, important man, these worldly things aren't so important to him - rather, he just wants to have a happy, quiet life. Mrs. Dashwood gets to know Edward a little better, and jumps to the conclusion that he and Elinor will be married in no time. She tells Marianne to get used to the idea. Personally, Marianne is very fond of Edward - she just doesn't really understand how her sister can be in love with someone so prosaic. She claims to only be able to love a more, well, dramatic and romantic man. Mrs. Dashwood laughs this off - after all, Marianne is only seventeen, and shouldn't despair at this early point in her life.

The Dashwoods remained at Norland Park for several months. In that time, Mrs. Dashwood got to know Fanny better, and her former impression, reasonably negative, was confirmed. She was anxious to establish her own household, and having been informed of John's deathbed promise, was quite cheerful in her search for a house. Only Elinor's good sense prevented her mother from taking one which was too large for their means. Mrs. Dashwood became reconciled to a longer stay at Norland Park after it became evident that Edward Ferrars, Fanny's brother, was very attracted to Elinor. She returned his affection, finding him a "gentlemanlike and pleasing young man." Recommending him to her mother, Elinor noted that part of his worth was that he was so different from his sister. The eldest son of a man who died very rich, Edward was dependent upon the favor of his mother. She and Fanny "wanted him to make a fine figure in the world." But "all his wishes centre in domestic comfort and the quiet of private life." Marianne could not understand how Elinor could be attracted to Edward, who was not handsome or outstanding. "Edward is very amiable," she said, "But . . . there is a something wanting, his figure is not striking -- it has none of that grace which I should expect in the man who could seriously attach my sister." The man she herself would marry "must have all Edward's virtues, and his person and manners must ornament his goodness with every possible charm." Their tastes must perfectly coincide if any hope of domestic bliss was to be expected.

In this chapter, the difference between Elinor's "sense" and the exaggerated "sensibility" of her mother and Marianne is pointed up with Jane Austen's characteristic humor. Note the caution with which Elinor merely tells her mother, "I think you will like him, when you know more of him." And compare it with Mrs. Dashwood's gushing reply: "Like him! I can feel no sentiment of approbation inferior to love." Mrs. Dashwood's devotion to her daughter is noted in the effort she makes, ultimately successful, to love and respect Edward. Marianne's excessive sensibility is shown in the formidable list of what she requires in a suitor: "I could not be happy with a man whose taste did not in every point coincide with my own. He must enter into all my feelings; the same books, the same music must charm us both." Austen's youthful writings were often parodies of the sentimental novels in vogue in her day. In her presentation of Marianne, she seems to be parodying the romantic heroine of such novels, although later in the novel she treats Marianne's character more seriously. Marianne's preference for the writings of Cowper reflect the author's own tastes; Crabbe, Cowper, and Scott were Austen's favorite poets. Note the contrast, which will be developed later, between the two widows, Mrs. Ferrars and Mrs. Dashwood. The latter thinks only of her daughters and their happiness, while the former seems to care nothing for her son's desires and thinks mainly of his appearance in the world.

Mrs. Dashwood and her children are still living in Norland Estate because they are not able to find suitable accommodations elsewhere. Mrs. Dashwood hopes that her stepson will provide them with financial support. In the meantime, Fanny's brother pays the family a visit. His charming manners and grace win Elinor's heart. Mrs. Dashwood is happy for her daughter and hopes for a match between the two. But Marianne is not impressed by Edward Ferrars, as he does not fit the image of a dashing young man, which is her personal idea of a worthy suitor.

Notes Jane Austen here introduces one of the main characters in the novel. Edward Ferrars is Fanny's brother, but unlike her, he is courteous, refined and good-natured. His 'quiet and unassuming' manner win the approval of both Mrs. Dashwood and Elinor, but Marianne has reservations about him. As far as Marianne is concerned, he does not excite romantic feelings. In any case, Fanny, Edward Ferrars' sister, is likely to sabotage a relationship between him and Elinor. Mrs. Dashwood and Marianne resemble each other in their thinking. Both of them jump to the conclusion that Edward will marry Elinor, and they start imagining the future without Elinor. CHAPTER 4 Summary Marianne expresses her opinion about Edward to her sister, but Elinor does not agree with her views. Elinor considers Edward to be a good human being, reserved by nature but refined in taste. When Marianne becomes aware of Elinor's feelings for Edward, she decides to try to love him as a brother. In the meantime, Fanny takes note of the growing friendship between Edward and Elinor and warns Mrs. Dashwood against it. Mrs. Dashwood is offended and resolves to find a new home at the earliest possible convenience. Shortly afterwards, she receives a letter from her cousin, Sir John Middleton, who offers her a house at Barton Estate in Devonshire. The offer sounds reasonable. The Dashwood ladies start planning to move away from Norland. Notes Chapter 4 demonstrates the difference in the attitudes of Elinor and Marianne. Elinor carefully analyzes the character of Edward and approves of his manner and tastes, while Marianne shows her prejudice against Edward because he does not conform to her view of an ideal man. Elinor is rational, while Marianne is romantic. The affair between Edward and Elinor is cut short due to the interference of Fanny. This incident foreshadows future events, which will create obstacles to their happiness. Elinor displays maturity by agreeing to move from Norland to Devonshire. She likes Edward and would have loved to keep his company, but in order to maintain their prestige, she consents to her mother's decision to leave Norland. She is pragmatic and considers the option to move to Barton as the best possible course under the present circumstances. CHAPTER 5 Summary Mrs. Dashwood informs John and Fanny about her decision to move to Barton, in Devonshire. John Dashwood expresses concern about their going to such a distant place. Nevertheless, preparations begin for the journey. After taking Elinor's advice, Mrs. Dashwood sells off their carriage and keeps only three servants. They send their furniture and servants ahead so that their house will be ready for immediate occupation. After bidding farewell to John and Fanny, they set off for their new home. Notes Elinor acts as the head of the family by giving helpful suggestions to her mother. She assesses their situation and advises her mother to dispose of the carriage and some of the servants, as it would not be financially viable for them to retain them. Elinor is the only member of the family who clearly understands their changed status, and she believes in living within their means. In contrast to Elinor, Marianne is engrossed in her own thoughts. She does not participate actively in the preparations, but passionately declares her fondness for Norland before departing. She sheds tears and remarks poetically, "Dear, dear Norland! when shall I cease to regret you--when learn to feel a home elsewhere?"


"What a pity it is, Elinor," said Marianne, "that Edward should have no
taste for drawing."

"No taste for drawing!" replied Elinor, "why should you think so? He
does not draw himself, indeed, but he has great pleasure in seeing the
performances of other people, and I assure you he is by no means
deficient in natural taste, though he has not had opportunities of
improving it.  Had he ever been in the way of learning, I think he
would have drawn very well.  He distrusts his own judgment in such
matters so much, that he is always unwilling to give his opinion on any
picture; but he has an innate propriety and simplicity of taste, which
in general direct him perfectly right."

Marianne was afraid of offending, and said no more on the subject; but
the kind of approbation which Elinor described as excited in him by the
drawings of other people, was very far from that rapturous delight,
which, in her opinion, could alone be called taste.  Yet, though
smiling within herself at the mistake, she honoured her sister for that
blind partiality to Edward which produced it.

"I hope, Marianne," continued Elinor, "you do not consider him as
deficient in general taste.  Indeed, I think I may say that you cannot,
for your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial, and if THAT were your
opinion, I am sure you could never be civil to him."

Marianne hardly knew what to say.  She would not wound the feelings of
her sister on any account, and yet to say what she did not believe was
impossible.  At length she replied:

"Do not be offended, Elinor, if my praise of him is not in every thing
equal to your sense of his merits.  I have not had so many
opportunities of estimating the minuter propensities of his mind, his
inclinations and tastes, as you have; but I have the highest opinion in
the world of his goodness and sense.  I think him every thing that is
worthy and amiable."

"I am sure," replied Elinor, with a smile, "that his dearest friends
could not be dissatisfied with such commendation as that.  I do not
perceive how you could express yourself more warmly."

Marianne was rejoiced to find her sister so easily pleased.

"Of his sense and his goodness," continued Elinor, "no one can, I
think, be in doubt, who has seen him often enough to engage him in
unreserved conversation.  The excellence of his understanding and his
principles can be concealed only by that shyness which too often keeps
him silent.  You know enough of him to do justice to his solid worth.
But of his minuter propensities, as you call them you have from
peculiar circumstances been kept more ignorant than myself.  He and I
have been at times thrown a good deal together, while you have been
wholly engrossed on the most affectionate principle by my mother.  I
have seen a great deal of him, have studied his sentiments and heard
his opinion on subjects of literature and taste; and, upon the whole, I
venture to pronounce that his mind is well-informed, enjoyment of books
exceedingly great, his imagination lively, his observation just and
correct, and his taste delicate and pure.  His abilities in every
respect improve as much upon acquaintance as his manners and person.
At first sight, his address is certainly not striking; and his person
can hardly be called handsome, till the expression of his eyes, which
are uncommonly good, and the general sweetness of his countenance, is
perceived.  At present, I know him so well, that I think him really
handsome; or at least, almost so.  What say you, Marianne?"

"I shall very soon think him handsome, Elinor, if I do not now.  When
you tell me to love him as a brother, I shall no more see imperfection
in his face, than I now do in his heart."

Elinor started at this declaration, and was sorry for the warmth she
had been betrayed into, in speaking of him.  She felt that Edward stood
very high in her opinion.  She believed the regard to be mutual; but
she required greater certainty of it to make Marianne's conviction of
their attachment agreeable to her.  She knew that what Marianne and her
mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next--that with them,
to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.  She tried to explain
the real state of the case to her sister.

"I do not attempt to deny," said she, "that I think very highly of
him--that I greatly esteem, that I like him."

Marianne here burst forth with indignation--

"Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh!  worse than
cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise.  Use those words again, and I
will leave the room this moment."

Elinor could not help laughing.  "Excuse me," said she; "and be assured
that I meant no offence to you, by speaking, in so quiet a way, of my
own feelings.  Believe them to be stronger than I have declared;
believe them, in short, to be such as his merit, and the suspicion--the
hope of his affection for me may warrant, without imprudence or folly.
But farther than this you must not believe.  I am by no means assured
of his regard for me.  There are moments when the extent of it seems
doubtful; and till his sentiments are fully known, you cannot wonder at
my wishing to avoid any encouragement of my own partiality, by
believing or calling it more than it is.  In my heart I feel
little--scarcely any doubt of his preference.  But there are other
points to be considered besides his inclination.  He is very far from
being independent.  What his mother really is we cannot know; but, from
Fanny's occasional mention of her conduct and opinions, we have never
been disposed to think her amiable; and I am very much mistaken if
Edward is not himself aware that there would be many difficulties in
his way, if he were to wish to marry a woman who had not either a great
fortune or high rank."

Marianne was astonished to find how much the imagination of her mother
and herself had outstripped the truth.

"And you really are not engaged to him!" said she.  "Yet it certainly
soon will happen.  But two advantages will proceed from this delay.  I
shall not lose you so soon, and Edward will have greater opportunity of
improving that natural taste for your favourite pursuit which must be
so indispensably necessary to your future felicity.  Oh! if he should
be so far stimulated by your genius as to learn to draw himself, how
delightful it would be!"

Elinor had given her real opinion to her sister.  She could not
consider her partiality for Edward in so prosperous a state as Marianne
had believed it.  There was, at times, a want of spirits about him
which, if it did not denote indifference, spoke of something almost as
unpromising.  A doubt of her regard, supposing him to feel it, need not
give him more than inquietude.  It would not be likely to produce that
dejection of mind which frequently attended him.  A more reasonable
cause might be found in the dependent situation which forbade the
indulgence of his affection.  She knew that his mother neither behaved
to him so as to make his home comfortable at present, nor to give him
any assurance that he might form a home for himself, without strictly
attending to her views for his aggrandizement.  With such a knowledge
as this, it was impossible for Elinor to feel easy on the subject.  She
was far from depending on that result of his preference of her, which
her mother and sister still considered as certain.  Nay, the longer
they were together the more doubtful seemed the nature of his regard;
and sometimes, for a few painful minutes, she believed it to be no more
than friendship.

But, whatever might really be its limits, it was enough, when perceived
by his sister, to make her uneasy, and at the same time, (which was
still more common,) to make her uncivil.  She took the first
opportunity of affronting her mother-in-law on the occasion, talking to
her so expressively of her brother's great expectations, of Mrs.
Ferrars's resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the
danger attending any young woman who attempted to DRAW HIM IN; that
Mrs. Dashwood could neither pretend to be unconscious, nor endeavor to
be calm.  She gave her an answer which marked her contempt, and
instantly left the room, resolving that, whatever might be the
inconvenience or expense of so sudden a removal, her beloved Elinor
should not be exposed another week to such insinuations.

In this state of her spirits, a letter was delivered to her from the
post, which contained a proposal particularly well timed.  It was the
offer of a small house, on very easy terms, belonging to a relation of
her own, a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire.  The
letter was from this gentleman himself, and written in the true spirit
of friendly accommodation.  He understood that she was in need of a
dwelling; and though the house he now offered her was merely a cottage,
he assured her that everything should be done to it which she might
think necessary, if the situation pleased her.  He earnestly pressed
her, after giving the particulars of the house and garden, to come with
her daughters to Barton Park, the place of his own residence, from
whence she might judge, herself, whether Barton Cottage, for the houses
were in the same parish, could, by any alteration, be made comfortable
to her.  He seemed really anxious to accommodate them and the whole of
his letter was written in so friendly a style as could not fail of
giving pleasure to his cousin; more especially at a moment when she was
suffering under the cold and unfeeling behaviour of her nearer
connections.  She needed no time for deliberation or inquiry.  Her
resolution was formed as she read.  The situation of Barton, in a
county so far distant from Sussex as Devonshire, which, but a few hours
before, would have been a sufficient objection to outweigh every
possible advantage belonging to the place, was now its first
recommendation.  To quit the neighbourhood of Norland was no longer an
evil; it was an object of desire; it was a blessing, in comparison of
the misery of continuing her daughter-in-law's guest; and to remove for
ever from that beloved place would be less painful than to inhabit or
visit it while such a woman was its mistress.  She instantly wrote Sir
John Middleton her acknowledgment of his kindness, and her acceptance
of his proposal; and then hastened to shew both letters to her
daughters, that she might be secure of their approbation before her
answer were sent.

Elinor had always thought it would be more prudent for them to settle
at some distance from Norland, than immediately amongst their present
acquaintance.  On THAT head, therefore, it was not for her to oppose
her mother's intention of removing into Devonshire.  The house, too, as
described by Sir John, was on so simple a scale, and the rent so
uncommonly moderate, as to leave her no right of objection on either
point; and, therefore, though it was not a plan which brought any charm
to her fancy, though it was a removal from the vicinity of Norland
beyond her wishes, she made no attempt to dissuade her mother from
sending a letter of acquiescence.

Marianne questions Edward's taste in drawing; Elinor is perfectly content that he is not as obviously passionate about art as Marianne should hope, though she knows that this is one of Edward's failings with Marianne. Elinor says she is perfectly happy with his tastes and education, and even Marianne cannot find fault with his good nature and kind heart. Marianne says she would like Edward even more if he were to get married to Elinor; Elinor knows that her sister and mother believe that there is an attachment between herself and Edward, but does not wish to confirm it because she is not sure of feelings being exactly mutual. Elinor also admits that there is something in Edward which suggests he does not love her as much as she loves him. She believes that it might have something to do with the expectations and overbearing nature of Edward's mother, though of course Elinor cannot be sure. Fanny is especially displeased by this attraction, and comments to Mrs. Dashwood about how there are high hopes for Edward, and he must marry a woman of high birth and much wealth. Fortunately, Mrs. Dashwood then receives a letter from a relative of hers, offering her a cottage on his property very cheaply. The letter is very friendly and urges Mrs. Dashwood to come to Barton Park, his estate in Devonshire, to have a look at the nearby cottage and see if it is suitable. Since Mrs. Dashwood is ready to escape from Fanny, she accepts; Marianne and Elinor approve the proposal, though Elinor does not want to be separated from Edward.

The clash between sense and sensibility is again shown in this discussion between Elinor and Marianne, and what their views on Edward and Elinor's relationship are. Elinor, with all her sensibility, does not allow herself to get carried away; she knows that Edward's affections might fall short of hers, and that there is no promised attachment between them. Marianne surveys the situation with a more romantic eye, assuming that he must love her equally well, and is bound to propose soon. That romantic notions lead Marianne to assume more about the situation than is true shows the failing of sense; sense is far from exact, and belief and hope often fall short of reality. Elinor's confession to Marianne foreshadows some secret of Edward's; he must have a reason for sometimes acting reticent around Marianne, if his affection is as genuine as it seems. Another obstacle is, of course, the approval of Edward's mother, who has great hopes for Edward's advancement and certainly would not look favorably on a less-than-ideal match. Fanny's insinuations to Mrs. Dashwood indicate that any match between Elinor and Edward would be harshly opposed by the Ferrars family, and this foreshadows further obstacles to Edward and Elinor being united

Marianne takes it upon herself to investigate Elinor's real feelings for the potential addition to the family. Marianne doesn't think much of Edward's taste or aesthetic sensibilities, but Elinor steps up to defend him. It's pretty clear that Elinor really does have the hots for Edward. She admits that he's not exactly a debonair heart-throb, but she knows him so well now that she finds him handsome and lovable. Marianne tries to get Elinor to admit that the pair are engaged - her sister will only go so far as to say that she likes and admires Edward . However, given his circumstances and the demands of his family, Elinor isn't sure that their marriage would be allowed. This is big news to Marianne - she and her mother had been sure the couple was secretly engaged already. However, Marianne is still more optimistic than her cautious sister. Fanny herself intervenes behind the scenes, and talks to Mrs. Dashwood about the affair - she makes it quite clear that any such marriage would be highly undesirable to the Ferrars clan. Mrs. Dashwood is understandably offended. Fortunately, an opportunity to move away from Norland and away from Fanny arises. A distant relation, Sir John Middleton, writes to offer the Dashwood ladies a cottage on his estate, Barton Park, in far away Devonshire. Mrs. Dashwood writes to Sir John, agreeing to take the cottage.

Discussing Edward with Marianne, Elinor spoke more warmly of him than she thought prudent. Realizing that her mother and Marianne were apt to leap to conclusions, she tried to explain "the real state of the case." She admitted that she was by no means sure of Edward's regard for her and pointed out that he was "very far from independent." The fact was that Elinor really wasn't assured of Edward's feelings. At times he appeared quite distant and troubled, and led her to wonder whether his feelings towards her were not just friendly. But she attributed this coolness to pressures from his mother, which made life difficult for him at home and forbade a life outside of it which didn't coincide with her wishes. Fanny Dashwood, noticing an attachment forming between the two, took the first opportunity of talking to Mrs. Dashwood about Edward's "great expectations, of Mrs. Ferrars' resolution that both her sons should marry well, and of the danger attending any young woman who attempted to draw him in." Deeply offended by these insinuations, Mrs. Dashwood determined to leave Norland Park as soon as possible to spare Elinor from any possible pain. While in this state of mind, she received a letter from a distant relative, Sir John Middleton, "a gentleman of consequence and property in Devonshire," who offered her a cottage on his estate. It was a warm and friendly offer, and she at once wrote an acceptance. Elinor considered the move a prudent one; the rent of the cottage was within their means, and although her true inclinations were not for a move, she felt it would be wise for them to live at some distance from Norland Park. So she agreed that her mother should send her "letter of acquiescence" immediately.

Austen's standards of behavior, reflected in her use of such terms as "civility" and "taste," were more absolute than those of today. While the modern novelist sees life and literature in terms of individual experience, Austen presents all her characters in terms of their relation to a fixed code of values. Elinor, in this chapter, does not seem to assess Edward as an individual; she lists a number of qualities admired at the time: ". . . his mind is well informed, his enjoyment of books exceeding great, his imagination lively, his observation just and correct, and his taste delicate and pure." Therefore, it is proper that she should admire him. To the modern reader, Edward, living on his mother's money and with no profession, might seem to be a sponger and a waster. But in the reign of George III, young gentlemen with "expectations" did not work. If they took up a profession, it was usually for reasons of prestige. Some entered the Church, but more often for social reasons than for any deep interest in religion.