Chapter 4 ~Judging Properly

1 Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. 2 For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body. (James 3:1-2, ESV)

1 A false balance is an abomination to the LORD, but a just weight is his delight. 2 When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with the humble is wisdom. 3 The integrity of the upright guides them, but the crookedness of the treacherous destroys them. (Proverbs 11:1-3, ESV)

Mrs. Bennet met them, in a great disturbance of feeling, before they entered the house, "I am surprised at your coming home so soon! Elizabeth, how could you allow it!"

"Good morning mama! Jane was feeling much better and knowing the horses would be needed at the farm-"

Jane uncharacteristically interrupted her sister "Mr. Bingley was kind enough-"

"--Lizzy! making so much trouble for Mr. Bingley! – sending his horses all the way here." She escorted her daughters quickly into the house never stopping her complaints.

"No doubt they had other things to do today besides running about to send you home – so early in the day too"

Shooing her eldest daughter up the stairs, she said, "Jane I am sure you will get your cold again – and it will ruin your looks then it will all have been for nothing!"

Their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them. That evening, when they were all assembled, he was very pleased to hear between bits of gossip about the soldiers – gleaned by his youngest daughters from their visits in Meryton – there were mixed at last some sensible comments, occasionally even extending into a brief conversation. Catherine and Lydia would not allow the subject to be long diverted for they had several days of gossip to review. Mary having had time to think of appropriate moral platitudes to recite was ready when they recounted the dinner at Uncle Philips house to interject:

"Be not among winebibbers; among riotous eaters of flesh: for the drunkard and the glutton come to poverty"(prov 23 20-21)

When they laughingly described a private who had been flogged she was able to add

"As Reverend Whitefield (george w 1770 great awakening) so wisely instructs 'Let not the miseries of others delight you (, nor be moved with joy at their calamities, nor triumph over their misfortunes); but always remember that thou art man and liable to the same frailties.' "

When they said that the officer's wives hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married. Mary, instead of prosing blushed unseen and Jane and Elizabeth were permitted to express their interest in the subject. Their father sighed that they were after all as silly as the rest.

As it was Saturday afternoon and not Wednesday morning Longbourn Church's new curate had no justification for calling on Mr. Bennet but he was restless and thought perhaps an inquiry after the health of his eldest daughter might pass for an excuse. He discovered that his feet had directed his steps thither before he constructed his argument in favour of such an unusual call. Having nothing as yet to offer a wife he should be thankful to avoid the young ladies during his weekly visits to Longbourn and relieved to spend his time with only Mr. Bennet. He was honest enough to acknowledge that the sight of his lovely daughters, one in particular, did very much add to the attractions of visiting Mr. Bennet.

Bereft of both father and grandfather for the years he most needed their wisdom, his patron unknowingly served as a locum tenens so his company alone should serve as ample motivation. Often they enjoyed a half hour of quiet conversation or simply read in companionable silence and at times they played chess. He had no business indulging his attraction in this way. He sat with the ladies for an uncomfortable ten minutes where he found little to say. He tried valiantly not to look too frequently at the daughters of his host and remained entirely unaware of the blushes that suffused Miss Mary's face as she greeted him admiring his features with quick furtive glances all through the visit. He said goodbye to the family, refusing even a last look at the clever young woman who drew him so often to her father's library. Choosing the longest path he walked back to the parsonage where he would spend his evening with the good reverend and his wife. Remembering that on the morrow he might have the privilege of taking the hand of one particular Miss Bennet for the customary greeting he smiled. In this way Saturday passed and Sunday dawned bright with hope.

He did not enjoy that privilege. Before the service he was occupied with an errand for the vicar and was equally unfortunate after the service when he was pulled into conversation with one of Longbourn's tenant farmers. The man's wife was quarrelling with their neighbour's wife and the resulting strife caused some difficulties. The two men shared responsibilities between them and so required a mediator. Both men wished for happy wives and feared that to attempt making peace between the women would lead to trouble at home. The master of Longbourn was not likely to do more than laugh at them, consequently the farmer asked instead for the curate's assistance solving this particular problem. By the time he made arrangements to meet with them, he saw the Bennet daughters entering their carriage while Mr. Bennet urged his wife away from a circle of ladies abuzz with gossip. The curate's long legs carried him forward in just enough time to bid Mr. Bennet goodbye and receive an invitation to dinner on the following evening.

There was some mischief in the older man's eye that made him wonder if he was walking into a trap but fool that he was he could not refuse. Not merely for the sake of Bennet's lovely daughter but also his wife's fine table. The luxury of one of her dinners was not to be missed even if all their daughters had rolling eyes, horse teeth and blotches. Perhaps his patron had recently acquired some rare tome to show him. That would be another reason not at all related to any of the young ladies that could explain his excitement. The younger man had never been given such easy access to the wealth of books contained in Mr. Bennet's library and when he was invited to borrow what he liked he developed a habit of taking four or five away with him every Wednesday morning and returning them the following week. He could return his books early and maybe take one or two to study until Wednesday. He had no reason not to allow his lips to curl upwards just a little.

'I hope, my dear,' said Mr. Bennet to his wife, as they were at breakfast the next morning, 'that you have ordered a good dinner to-day, because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.'

'Who do you mean, my dear? I know of nobody that is coming, I am sure, unless that dull Mr. Wickham should happen to call in -- and I hope my dinners are good enough for him. I do not believe he often sees such at the parsonage.'

'Yes, I invited Mr. Wickham to join us as well."

He was interrupted here by his youngest daughter who wondered aloud how sour faced men court their favourites and Kitty added "Have you any idea Mary"

Mary blushed supposing that her sisters had seen that there was some tiny seed of love just beginning to sprout between herself and the curate, but it wasn't so. Her sister simply thought a sour faced girl would understand a sour faced man. Mary's love story was still her own lonely dream. Stuttering with embarrassment Mary attempted to find something clever to say but their father continued before she could answer.

"As our visitor is in the same profession I supposed Wickham may enjoy meeting the man. The gentleman of whom I speak is a person whom I never saw in the whole course of my life."

Lydia dropped the lace she had just that morning cajolled from Jane, Mary closed her book, Kitty only opened her mouth and his favourite daughters looked up from their sewing to examine his countenance. After twenty three years of marriage Mrs. Bennet was still mystified by the man she married but her surprise rarely resulted in silence and so it was only a moment before she began to quiz him. Her daughters, equally curious, could not wait even for her first question to be given voice before they joined the chorus with their own. Their father with the skill of a great conductor encouraged one and irritated another with his capricious responses leaving them all as ignorant as they were in the beginning of the exercise – until having amused himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained --

"About a month ago I received a letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases."

"Oh! my dear," cried his wife, "I cannot bear to hear that mentioned. Pray do not talk of that odious man. I do think it is the hardest thing in the world, that your estate should be entailed away from your own children; and I am sure, if I had been you, I should have tried long ago to do something or other about it."

"It certainly is a most iniquitous affair," said Mr. Bennet with all the sober seriousness of a judge, "and nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But after meeting him, you may perhaps be a little softened by his offer of an olive branch."

Testifying with self-righteous animosity against her sworn enemy his wife responded,

"No, that I am sure I shall not; and I think it was very impertinent of him to write to you at all, and very hypocritical. I hate such false friends. Why could not he keep on quarrelling with you, as his father did before him?"

"Why, indeed; you think alike on that point. It has prevented him from contacting us before now, but being now a vicar he feels it is his Christian duty to set the example of forgiveness and so he will avail himself of our hospitality for a fortnight to prove his sincerity on that point."

Mr. Collins arrived with an improbable accuracy precisely when he announced in his letter that he would and was received with great politeness by the whole family. The curate was not far behind him, arriving soon afterwards and was welcomed only by his host. Miss Mary welcomed him only with a silent longing glance from across the room and he was entirely unaware of it. His eyes sought Miss Elizabeth who had paid little attention to this quiet curate and had already classified him as a dreadful bore. In recent weeks as Mary's admiration for him increased Elizabeth's disapprobation had likewise. His serious gaze she had found frequently focused on herself making her very uncomfortable wondering what it was about her that was more wrong and reprehensible than everybody else present. She purposefully paid him very little attention though, perversely, he took the chair directly opposite her own as they waited to go in to dinner.

Mr. Bennet said little and the curate even less; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself. He was a tall, heavy-looking young man of five-and-twenty. His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal. He had not been long seated before he began his compliments by admiring their fine family. The girls were not the only objects of Mr. Collins's admiration. The hall, the drawing room, and all its furniture were examined and praised; and his commendation of everything would have touched Mrs. Bennet's heart, but for the mortifying supposition of his viewing it all as his own future property. He was soon interrupted by a summons to dinner which caused the girls to smile in expectation of some relief from his flattery during the meal. As soon as they were all seated,however, he began again in a voice that carried across the room though apparently addressing only his hostess at whose elbow he sat.

"Mrs. Bennet, it would indeed require a woman of superior beauty to produce such a superior crop of daughters."

The curate sitting quite a distance from the speaker could not avoid hearing it and blushed at so indelicate a compliment. Looking across the table he did not miss the spark of amusement in Miss Elizabeth's eyes or the quirk of her lips indicating suppressed laughter. She did not look at him to share her mirth but at her father who sat between them. Shockingly unashamed Mr. Collins had not done and he continued the subject.

"Before I had left Cambridge I had heard much of the beauty of the Bennet sisters, but in this instance fame has fallen short of the truth; and though I would not wish to see you deprived of their amiable presence, I do not doubt that you will, in due time, see them all well disposed of in marriage."

Their father's eye brows rose at this and noted that his cousin's insinuating smile did not add much to the charm of this gallant remark. His two youngest girls wore horrified expressions while his two eldest shared amused glances. Miss Mary was looking at Mr. Wickham under her lashes though he looked past her to Mrs. Bennet, who answered her guest most readily --

'You are very kind, sir, I am sure; and I wish with all my heart it may prove so, for else they will be destitute enough. Things are settled so oddly.'

"You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate. I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins, and could say much on the subject, but that I am cautious of appearing forward and precipitate. I can assure the young ladies that I come prepared to admire them. At present I will not say more, but perhaps when we are better acquainted I will have something to offer that may relieve some of your concerns."

Mr. Wickham, as Mary alone noticed, looked suddenly very ill. He had not observed her scrutiny but looked instead at her father whose amused expression restored his equanimity. Mr. Wickham wondered that his host chose to invite him, but when the ladies were withdrawn, some of the mystery was revealed.

Smirking at his friend Mr. Bennet started a subject in which he expected his cousin to shine, by observing that he seemed very fortunate in his patroness. Mr. Wickham now understood that his host wished to amuse him with his cousin's folly. Mr. Bennet was satisfied that he could not have chosen better for Mr. Collins was eloquent as he described Lady Catherine de Bourgh's attention to his wishes. His audience, however, though surprised, was not amused; Wickham was struck by the mention of a familiar name. The great lady's consideration for Mr. Collins comfort was rhapsodised as Wickham wrestled with the temptation to feel ill used. He had been recommended to that same lady some months ago by a family friend. He had not pleased her and to sit at a table with the man who did was enlightening. Before this evening he had humbly assumed the position had been bestowed on a worthier candidate.

When his host looked at him with laughing eyes before replying to the fortunate young man, "Certainly sir, it is all very remarkable," Wickham managed to nod and approximate a smile.

To be genuinely amused was impossible. The injustice of the elevation of such a fool to a position of trust, honour, and dignity left him troubled. It was only when he considered how unworthy all men are to teach the message of the Saviour to his fellow creatures that Wickham was able to listen with a calm spirit. He would not give way to resentment. God in His wisdom had placed himself beneath this fool – no that was unchristian – beneath this gentleman in consequence and in their chosen profession and it was his duty to learn from this circumstance.

And so when Mr. Collins, elevated to more than his usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect protested that,

"I have never in my life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank -- such affability and condescension, as I have myself experienced from Lady Catherine - -;"

Mr. Wickham smiled genuinely and in his heart congratulated the other man for such a favourable situation. When Mr. Collins further expounded on her gracious approval of both the discourses which he had already preached, on two dinners eaten at Rosings, and on assisting to make up her pool of quadrille one Saturday evening; Mr. Wickham spoke aloud, "I congratulate you on your most amiable patroness."

Further proofs of her kind attentions were then elaborated, "Although Lady Catherine is reckoned proud by many people I have never seen anything but affability in her."

When Mr. Collins supported this assertion by informing them that she allows him to socialize within the community, and that after looking at his improvements to the parsonage she suggested he add some shelves in the closets up stairs; Mr. Wickham silently congratulated himself.

"That is all very proper and civil, I am sure," said Mr. Bennet, "Does she live near you, sir?"

"The garden in which stands my humble abode, is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park, her ladyship's residence."

Thanking God for His infinite wisdom and goodness Mr. Wickham's lips curled into something approaching an amused grin. Mr. Bennet, very proud of having achieved his object at last persevered on the subject:

"I think you said she was a widow, sir? has she any family?"

"She has only a daughter, the heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property. Her indifferent state of health unhappily prevents her being in town; and by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day, has deprived the British court of its brightest ornament."

Still giddy from his miraculous change of feeling from resentment to joy, Mr. Wickham, having seen the young lady, coughed to avoid laughing outright.

Extremely satisfied with his success Mr. Bennet stood to replenish their port. Mr. Wickham wisely declined, sipping cautiously from what remained in his glass.

"That is a handsome compliment, it is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy and may I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?"

"They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible."

"You judge very properly," said Mr. Bennet. As Mr. Wickham had not reacted, his host pressed Mr. Collins on the subject of his compliments. "Is Miss de Bourgh generally reckoned a beauty?"

"Lady Catherine herself says that, in point of true beauty, Miss De Bourgh is far superior to the handsomest of her sex; because there is that in her features which marks the young woman of distinguished birth."

"I see." Mr. Bennet responded. Restraining his own smile he watched Wickham's dubious expression when he continued, "I suppose she is very accomplished?"

"She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has prevented her making that progress in many accomplishments, which she could not otherwise have failed of, as I am informed by the lady who superintended her education. But she is perfectly amiable."

His friend coughed once more and Mr. Bennet's expectations were fully answered. His cousin was as absurd as he had hoped, and he listened to him with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance, and, except in occasionally discomfiting the resolutely solemn Mr. Wickham, requiring no partner in his pleasure.