Chapter 13 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student to hear whom Mr. Bennet’s line is aimed at. Mrs. Bennet has been railing “bitterly against the cruelty of settling an estate away from a family of five daughters, in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.” Her husband answers: “It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,” and “nothing can clear Mr. Collins from the guilt of inheriting Longbourn. But if you will listen to his letter, you may, perhaps, be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.” Iniquitous means wicked. He has read the letter; she has not. The student decides who the joke is on. The card must not say what Mr. Bennet feels about the entail: the chapter gives his jokes, not his feelings.

One reading

His wife. He takes her side so completely that it shows how little sense it makes. An entail is a legal settlement that decides who gets the estate, not a crime, and an heir cannot be guilty of being next in line; Jane and Elizabeth have tried many times to explain this to her. The words “iniquitous” and “guilt” are her complaint dressed in a judge’s words, and the grand words are the joke.

• It certainly is a most iniquitous affair,
• it was a subject on which Mrs. Bennet was beyond the reach of reason;

Another reading

His cousin. Mr. Bennet has read the letter, and knows that Mr. Collins asks for his place in the entail to be “kindly overlooked”, as if inheriting were a fault to be forgiven. His phrase “the guilt of inheriting” is the letter’s own idea, said aloud before anyone else has heard it, and his next sentence sends his wife to the letter to find it.

• the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side,
• you may, perhaps, be a little softened by his manner of expressing himself.

Listen for

• Hears the grand words, “iniquitous” and “guilt”, set against what an entail is: a legal settlement of an estate, not a wrong anyone commits.
• Notices that Mr. Bennet has read the letter and his wife has not, so he knows how Mr. Collins speaks of the entail before she does.
• Notices that his “a little softened” comes true: the letter does away “much of her ill-will”.
• Keeps to the chapter: it gives Mr. Bennet’s jokes, not his feelings about the entail.

If stuck

• What does Mrs. Bennet blame Mr. Collins for?
• Who in the room has already read the letter?
• Can a man be guilty of inheriting a house?

A strong answer A strong response names a target for the joke and reasons from the words. One reader hears Mr. Bennet mocking his wife: he puts her complaint in a judge’s words, “iniquitous” and “guilt”, and the grand words show how little sense it makes to blame a man for an entail he did not make. Another hears him mocking his cousin: he has read the letter, which asks that Mr. Collins’s being next in the entail be “kindly overlooked”, as if inheriting needed forgiving. The best answers allow that the joke can land on both at once, and keep to what the chapter gives: Mr. Bennet’s jokes, not his feelings about the entail.

What it asks It asks the student to take Mrs. Bennet’s wish seriously. Before a word of the letter is read, she says: “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?” The student decides what an open quarrel would give her. The card must not make her only foolish: the entail she rails against is the family’s real danger, even if she cannot understand how it works.

One reading

An honest enemy. A man who quarrels can be hated without a second thought. A man who writes kindly is harder to hate, and she has already named what she fears in him: a false friend. To her the friendliness is itself the insult, because it changes nothing about who will have the house.

• I hate such false friends.
• and very hypocritical.

Another reading

Distance. A quarrelling cousin stays in Kent. A cousin at peace writes to propose himself as a guest, and the entail, which till now was a thing she could rail at, gets a face and a place at her table. She has railed against an estate settled on a man “whom nobody cared anything about”; peace makes him somebody she must receive.

• in favour of a man whom nobody cared anything about.
• If you should have no objection to receive me into your house,

Listen for

• Hears that she calls the letter “hypocritical” before it is read.
• Notices the irony that she wants the very quarrel the letter sets out to end, and that the letter soon ends her own ill-will.
• Takes the entail as seriously as her temper: she is right that the house will go.
• Keeps to the chapter: whether Mr. Collins is a false friend is not settled here.

If stuck

• What does Mrs. Bennet call the letter before she has heard it?
• Where would a quarrelling cousin be on Monday at four o’clock?
• When is an enemy easier to deal with than a friend?

A strong answer A strong response finds what an open quarrel offers her. One reader hears a wish for an honest enemy: she hates “false friends”, and a friendly heir is harder to hate than a hostile one. Another hears a wish for distance: a quarrel keeps the man who will have the house far away, while peace brings him to stay. The best answers notice the irony that the letter soon softens her, and take her fear of the entail as seriously as her temper.

What it asks It asks the student to follow the logic of one sentence of the letter. Mr. Collins first explains his delay: he feared “lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.” Then: “My mind, however, is now made up on the subject; for, having received ordination at Easter, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.” Ordination makes him a clergyman; a patron is the person who gives him his church; to “demean myself” here means to behave. The student decides whether the “for” gives a real reason for ending the quarrel. The card must not say what Lady Catherine is like: everything about her here comes from his letter.

One reading

A real reason, as he sees it. A new clergyman has a new duty, and his next sentence names it: to bring peace to every family he can reach. A man with a church and a patron no longer comes to Longbourn as a poor relation waiting for the house. His new place lets him set his father’s quarrel aside without seeming to beg.

• having received ordination at Easter,
• I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage

Another reading

No real reason. The “for” promises an answer, and the sentence goes off to his patroness instead: her title, her late husband, her “bounty and beneficence”, the “valuable rectory”, his “grateful respect”. The Bennets are not mentioned again in it. The quarrel is the excuse for the sentence; Lady Catherine is its subject.

• whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish,
• to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship,

Listen for

• Follows the sentence from “for” to its end, and notices where the Bennets have gone.
• Hears the double sense of “demean myself”: to behave, and, to a modern ear, to lower oneself.
• Gives the first reading its line: a clergyman’s duty to make peace comes in the very next sentence.
• Keeps to the chapter: Lady Catherine is known here only through his letter.

If stuck

• What held Mr. Collins back from making peace before?
• What changed for him at Easter?
• How much of the sentence after “for” is about the Bennets?

A strong answer A strong response traces the “for” to what follows it. One reader finds a real link: ordination brings a clergyman’s duty to make peace, which he names in his next sentence, and a rector with a patron can come to the family with a place of his own. Another finds the link a doorway: the sentence that should explain his change of mind spends itself on Lady Catherine’s titles, her “bounty and beneficence” and his “grateful respect”. The best answers read the sentence’s length and order as evidence, and say nothing of what Lady Catherine is like.

What it asks It asks the student to read Mr. Bennet’s silence at the visit. When Elizabeth asks whether their cousin can be a sensible man, he answers, “No, my dear; I think not. I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse.” A moment later he adds, “I am impatient to see him.” At four o’clock: “Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk, and Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself.” The student decides what the silence is. The card must not treat Mr. Bennet’s amusement as the right response to Mr. Collins: Jane’s generous reading and Elizabeth’s puzzled one are in the same room. The chapter gives his silence, not his reason.

One reading

Enjoying the show. He hoped for a fool, and he has one who needs no help. A man who means to laugh keeps quiet and lets the other man talk. His silence is the best seat in the house.

• I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse.
• Mr. Collins seemed neither in need of encouragement, nor inclined to be silent himself.

Another reading

Holding back. The guest is “grave and stately” and “very formal”, and the talk is left to the ladies. Mr. Bennet gives his heir a polite welcome and little more. The narrator, who named his pleasure at breakfast, names none now; the silence may be a host’s reserve toward the man who will follow him.

• Mr. Bennet indeed said little; but the ladies were ready enough to talk,
• His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal.

Listen for

• Sets “impatient to see him” against “said little”, and asks what changed or did not.
• Notices that the narrator named his pleasure at breakfast and names none at the visit.
• Does not take Mr. Bennet’s amusement as the chapter’s verdict on Mr. Collins.

If stuck

• What did Mr. Bennet hope Mr. Collins would be like?
• Who does the talking when Mr. Collins arrives?
• Is a quiet listener always enjoying himself?

A strong answer A strong response reads the silence from the page. One reader finds Mr. Bennet enjoying exactly what he hoped for: a man “quite the reverse” of sensible, who needs no help to show it. Another finds a host holding back: he leaves the welcome to the ladies, and the narrator, who showed his pleasure at breakfast, shows none when the guest arrives. The best answers notice that the chapter gives no reason for his quiet, and do not take his amusement as the last word on Mr. Collins.

What it asks It asks the student to judge Mrs. Bennet’s suspicion at dinner. “They were not the only objects of Mr. Collins’s admiration. The hall, the dining-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.” A supposition is a guess. Then he asks which of his cousins cooked the dinner, and Mrs. Bennet “assured him, with some asperity, that they were very well able to keep a good cook, and that her daughters had nothing to do in the kitchen.” The student decides how fair her guess is. The card must not say what Mr. Collins was thinking: the narrator gives her supposition, not his mind.

One reading

Fair enough. The rooms are “examined” as well as praised, the way a buyer looks over a house. He will own them one day, and his own letter calls him “next in the entail of Longbourn estate”. Even his question about the cook sounds like a man learning how the house is run.

• The hall, the dining-room, and all its furniture, were examined and praised;
• he begged to know to which of his fair cousins the excellence of its cookery was owing.

Another reading

Not fair. He praises everything: the house, the dinner, the daughters. The narrator calls her thought a “supposition”, a guess. A guest who praises his hosts’ home is doing what a guest should, and the entail turns every kind word into a threat in her ears, whatever he means.

• 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.

Listen for

• Notices “examined” beside “praised”.
• Hears that “mortifying supposition” reports her guess, not a fact about him.
• Takes the entail seriously: the man praising the room will one day own it, which is why the praise cannot simply please her.
• Keeps to the chapter: it does not say what Mr. Collins was thinking.

If stuck

• What does Mr. Collins praise at dinner?
• Why can his praise not simply please Mrs. Bennet?
• How could a guest praise a house without seeming to value it?

A strong answer A strong response weighs her guess against what Mr. Collins does. One reader finds it fair: he examines as well as praises, he will own the house, and his question about the cook sounds like a man learning how it runs. Another finds it unfair: he praises everything, and the narrator calls her thought only a “supposition”. The best answers notice that the entail makes fairness hard to judge: while he is the heir, no kind word of his about this house can sound innocent to her.

What it asks It asks the student to weigh what Austen gains by sending Mr. Collins’s sentences into the room before the man. The family hears the letter at breakfast. At four: “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 compliments Mrs. Bennet on her daughters, saying “that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth”, and “This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers”. When Mrs. Bennet says that without good marriages her daughters “will be destitute enough”, he answers, “You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.” Then come the dinner, the cook and the long apology. The student builds a thesis on what the man adds to the letter, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not settle whether the letter is sincere, and must not say that Mr. Collins means to marry one of the daughters: “I come prepared to admire them” hints, but his plan is not yet told.

One reading

Very little. The man in the room is the letter walking in: the same ceremony, the same ready compliments, the same care to seem humble. A compliment on beauty he has only heard of is the letter’s “amiable daughters” said aloud. Austen sends the letter first so that the reader knows him on sight, and the visit only confirms it.

• His air was grave and stately, and his manners were very formal.
• that, in this instance, fame had fallen short of the truth;

Another reading

A room that answers back. The letter was read with its writer far away in Kent; in person his words land on the people they are about, and some of them do not like it. The entail, which the letter asked to have “kindly overlooked”, is now spoken of in the room, to his face, by a mother who fears for her daughters. The style is the same; the pressure on it is new.

• This gallantry was not much to the taste of some of his hearers;
• You allude, perhaps, to the entail of this estate.

Listen for

• Sets a line from the letter beside a line from the visit and asks whether they are the same voice.
• Notices what the letter could not show: how his words land on the people listening.
• Asks what the reader gains by meeting Mr. Collins’s sentences before his person.
• Keeps to the chapter: it does not settle whether the letter is sincere, or say what Mr. Collins plans.

If stuck

• What do we learn about Mr. Collins at four o’clock that the letter did not tell us?
• Which of his words in person sound like his letter?
• Who brings up the entail at the visit, and how does he answer?

A strong answer A strong thesis says what the visit adds to the letter. A student might argue that it adds very little: the man is “grave and stately” and “very formal”, and his compliment that “fame had fallen short of the truth” is the letter’s ceremony said aloud, so Austen has let the reader know him before he sits down. The strongest objection is that the letter was heard without him, while in person his words meet their listeners: his gallantry is “not much to the taste of some of his hearers”, and the entail he asked to have overlooked is raised to his face. A good revision might hold that the visit adds no new trait but a new pressure: the man the reader first met on paper must now answer, in the room, for the house he will one day own.

What it asks It asks the student to judge the letter’s peace offering. “and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive branch.” “I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologize for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends; but of this hereafter.” Overtures are first offers; amends are what is given to make up for a harm. Elizabeth asks: “And what can he mean by apologizing for being next in the entail? We cannot suppose he would help it, if he could.” At dinner he begs pardon for asking about the cook, and goes on apologizing after Mrs. Bennet says she is not offended. The student builds a thesis on whether the letter is a sincere olive branch or a display of his own importance, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not settle the letter’s sincerity as fact: the family gives several readings of it, and the chapter no verdict. It must not say that Mr. Collins has decided to marry one of the daughters (his “amends” and “I come prepared to admire them” hint, but his plan is not yet told), describe Lady Catherine beyond what his letter says, or reach past this chapter.

One reading

A sincere olive branch, in the only style he has. He writes first, to a man his father quarrelled with. He names the harm to the daughters, apologizes for it, and offers “every possible amends”. Before dinner he says it again to Mrs. Bennet: he is “very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins”. Pompous words can carry a real wish, and Jane hears one.

• I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters,
• I am very sensible, madam, of the hardship to my fair cousins,

Another reading

A display of his own importance. He praises his own offer before anyone else can. He apologizes for an entail he could not change, as Elizabeth sees, so the apology costs him nothing. And at dinner his apology runs on for a quarter of an hour after Mrs. Bennet has said she is not offended: an apology that keeps him at the centre of the room.

• I flatter myself that my present overtures of good-will are highly commendable,
• but he continued to apologize for about a quarter of an hour.

Listen for

• Reads the letter’s sentences, not a summary of them: “I flatter myself”, “highly commendable”, “the offered olive branch”.
• Weighs the family’s readings as evidence, not verdicts: Mrs. Bennet won over by “amends”, Jane’s “to his credit”, and Elizabeth’s point that he could not help the entail.
• Sets the letter’s apology beside the quarter of an hour at dinner.
• Does not settle the question as fact, and does not say what Mr. Collins plans: “but of this hereafter” leaves it untold.

If stuck

• What does Mr. Collins apologize for, and what does he offer?
• Which words in the letter praise the writer?
• Can a person be kind and vain in the same sentence?

A strong answer A strong thesis judges the letter from its own sentences. A student might argue that it is a sincere olive branch: Mr. Collins writes first, names the hardship to the daughters, offers “every possible amends”, and repeats his concern in person before dinner. The strongest objection is that the letter praises its own offer as “highly commendable”, apologizes for an entail he could not change, and that at dinner a small slip becomes a quarter of an hour of apology. A good revision might hold that sincerity and self-importance live in the same sentences, and that Austen lets each member of the family, and each reader, decide which one they hear; the chapter itself gives no verdict.