Their actions exhibit strong parallels, for they both commit serious errors in the first half of the story, and then learn and reform in the second half. In their personalities they display both similarities and differences. The similarities serve the valuable purpose of signaling the ultimate compatibility of their personalities and thus the aptness of their marriage. The differences, such as Darcy's much greater seriousness, suggest at the same time that their marriage will not simply be one in which two like-minded souls reinforce their shared tendencies, as Bingley and Jane's marriage will probably do, but will be a union in which the partners can complement and impart unique benefits to each other. It is this exact sort of marriage that Jane Austen consistently upholds as her ideal; it is also one that receives particular emphasis in Pride and Prejudice through being foreshadowed in the parallel reformations Darcy and Elizabeth undergo before their marriage in response to each other.

A further dialectic of similarity and difference appears in the arguments between hero and heroine that play such a prominent role in the novel. Crucial shared traits —keen intelligence, outspokenness, independence of judgment, and forcefulness of expression —make them both inclined to argue, and able to do so with eloquence, even as differences in other areas ensure that they frequently argue in favor of opposing positions. The resulting disputes serve in turn both to sharpen their immediate antagonism, and to lay a foundation of respect for the other's abilities that later comes to the fore. The disputes serve the additional purpose of allowing the author to emphasize a number of issues crucial to the novel by having them be matters of direct debate between the two protagonists. These issues include the relative value of seriousness and humor, the right degree of amenability toward others, the best way to avoid mistaken or prejudicial judgments, and the appropriateness of pride.

These last two issues, of course, relate directly to the novel's central theme of pride and prejudice. This theme appears most obviously in the contrast between Darcy's pride —in his social position, his intelligence, his scrupulousness of behavior—and Elizabeth's prejudice against him, a contrast that is underlined by the way his proud behavior feeds much of her prejudice. But the theme is not confined to this contrast, in part because pride is not confined to Darcy nor prejudice to Elizabeth. Darcy's social pride is itself fed by his prejudice against people of her rank, while Elizabeth's pride in her judgment and wit spurs her dislike of Darcy, both through her offense at his scorn of her and his general air of superiority, and through her enjoyment of the opportunity to exercise her cleverness and wit by abusing such a tempting target as Darcy. In their respective reformations they also must each shed both pride and prejudice. He must acknowledge, and alter, his improper arrogance, while learning, through his experience with people like Elizabeth and the Gardiners, that those of a lower social rank can be superior in their sense and behavior. She must admit the error of her judgments, and must absorb the need to be less hasty and confident, and to be a little less eager to seize opportunities for witty repartee.

Nor do pride and prejudice pertain solely to the two central characters; a host of supporting figures display their own forms of one or the other. In fact, pride and prejudice are such ubiquitous features of human personality and behavior that a novel centering around them will have ample opportunity to highlight and reinforce its main theme. At the same time, such a novel may not break significant intellectual ground, for it will to a great extent be restating simple and familiar truths. This is probably why Pride and Prejudice does not involve as much examination of complex social or philosophical issues as many other novels, including Sense and Sensibility and Mansfield Park, and why, unlike these last two, it has not stirred as much disagreement or commentary regarding its ultimate meaning. But a familiar truth may be just as important as a novel or controversial one, and to make the former a vital part of a lengthy story, and keep it from seeming tiresome in its familiarity, constitutes a significant achievement in itself. This choice of theme also constitutes one more factor allowing the novel, and its heroine, to be infused with a high degree of comedy without losing a claim to seriousness, for a simple and venerable message is one that neither needs the sort of lengthy exposition that could overwhelm the comic aspects of the story, nor stands in danger of being forgotten or misunderstood if not subject to such exposition. In this respect pride and prejudice forms the perfect theme for a novel that, among great works of literature, is almost unsurpassed for combining the imperatives of entertainment and of art.

VOLUME ONE

Chapter One

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.1

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady2 to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”3

Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.4

“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.”

Mr. Bennet made no answer.

“Do not you want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife impatiently.

“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”

This was invitation enough.

“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four5 to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas,6 and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.”7

“What is his name?”

“Bingley.”

“Is he married or single?”

“Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year.8 What a fine thing for our girls!”

“How so? how can it affect them?”

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”

“Is that his design in settling here?”

“Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.”

“I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might like you the best of the party.”

“My dear, you flatter me.