Sir Thomas Bertram:

"humane and high-principled" but flawed by "defects of egotism and [. . .] laziness"[10]

Sir Thomas Bertram, the uncle on whom the heroine is dependent, is a well-meaning man but an ill-judging parent. He has a powerful generous streak that is frequently undone because of his social, economic, or propriety concerns. For example, Sir Thomas would have gladly assisted his wife's youngest sister, Mrs. Price, and Mr. Price in improving their situation in life, but "before he had time to devise any [. . .] method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place" (5). Through both Mrs. Norris's meddling and Mrs. Price's own hasty temper, Sir Thomas was insulted and Mrs. Price was completely alienated from the family and his assistance. However, nine years later when Mrs. Price sends a letter asking for assistance and Mrs. Norris suggests fostering the eldest Price daughter, Fanny, Sir Thomas forgives the past and is ready to be generous again.

Agreeing to have Fanny live at Mansfield is not Sir Thomas's only generous act. He recognizes at once that "a girl so brought up must be adequately provided for, or there would be cruelty instead of kindness in taking her from her family" (7). The provision he is alluding to is a dowry. Sir Thomas feels that if Fanny is brought up in the luxury of Mansfield Park, it would be unfair and heartless to expect her to marry into anything less than the lower gentry, so he resolves that he must "consider [himself] engaged to secure her hereafter, as circumstances may arise, the provision of a gentlewoman" (8). He is prepared to take on the responsibility of providing her with a sufficient dowry to live in comfort not incommensurate with the environment in which she will be raised.

He also does other things for Fanny that were not strictly required. He invites William to stay during his longer leaves of absence from the Navy, he openly opposes Mrs. Norris by allowing Fanny to accept her first dinner invitation with the Grants, and he throws a ball at Mansfield for Fanny and William.[11] Beyond what he provides for Fanny, he also "assisted [Mrs. Price] liberally in the education and disposal of her sons as they became old enough for a determinate pursuit" (19). The education of Mrs. Price's many children costs Sir Thomas a substantial amount of money and helping them find professions would have been a considerable expenditure of time and energy on his part.

For most of the first book of the novel, Sir Thomas is away on business in Antigua. When he leaves a household consisting of his two daughters, his son, his wife, and his niece in the hands of Mrs. Norris, he does so because he "could not think Lady Bertram quite equal to supply his place with them" (28). He is fully aware of his wife's inadequacy as a parent to their children, thinking that his "place," or role, with them is "what should have been her own" (28). Thus, instead of making an attempt to educate his wife about being a better mother, he decides to trust "in Mrs. Norris's watchful attention and in Edmund's judgment" (28). It is quickly shown that his trust was completely misplaced.

Mrs. Norris is the only character in the novel who is unambiguously wicked. After bringing Fanny to the Bertram estate, Mrs. Norris takes an immediate dislike to her and sets about making her as miserable as possible. One might be tempted to excuse Sir Thomas's failure to protect Fanny from Mrs. Norris's malice because he appears unaware most of the time. However, with close reading it becomes evident that Sir Thomas was willfully uninformed about Mrs. Norris's behavior. For example, when Sir Thomas discovers that Fanny is without a fire in her room and he observes that Fanny's "aunt cannot be aware," Fanny feels she should defend "the aunt she loved best" (258). Jane Austen does not reveal Fanny's exact words, saying only that "the words 'my aunt Norris' were distinguishable" (258). Before Fanny can elaborate further, Sir Thomas interrupts; "recollecting himself, and not wanting to hear more," he proceeds to make excuses for Mrs. Norris's harsh but supposedly well meant privations (258, emphasis mine). Sir Thomas does not want to hear more because as long as there is no open accusation of Mrs. Norris's malicious attitude, he can feel free from any obligation to effect change or acknowledge his mistake. In addition, as the only phrase distinguishable was her name, he clearly had some knowledge that makes him not want to hear more. Sir Thomas often allows his sense of propriety, of what looks right, to muffle what ought to be his moral concern.

A different instance of Mrs. Norris's harmful influence, of which Sir Thomas is unable to remain ignorant, is her indulgence towards the Miss Bertrams. She spends most of her energy encouraging their conceit, and at the end of the novel the narrator reveals that Sir Thomas was aware of this all along, when he thinks, "how ill he had judged in expecting to counteract what was wrong in Mrs. Norris, by its reverse in himself" (381). He erroneously believed that by being stern where Mrs. Norris was indulgent, he could still succeed in raising morally correct daughters. All that his stern exterior accomplished was to prevent his ability "to establish any warmth of relationship with his children,"[12] which eventually leads to the alienation and ruin of Maria.

Sir Thomas's failure to make a parental connection with his daughters is also related to the ineffectiveness of his morality when confronted with his desire for decorum. It is because of "the primacy he gives to decorous stability," in addition to his laziness, complacency, and social concern, that "he does nothing to check the wastrel Tom's self-indulgent activities, only perfunctorily inquires about Maria's feelings for Rushworth, and gives scant consideration to her suitability as Julia's chaperone in London."[13] For example, his solution for Tom is to take him to Antigua "in the hope of detaching him from some bad connections at home" (28). Removing Tom from his free-living companions could not change Tom's integral flaws unless the removal were accompanied by moral counsel. Judging by Tom's behavior at his return, Sir Thomas certainly did not take such a measure. Doing anything overt or decisive about his children's flaws would create a rift in the calm exterior of his home as well as require Sir Thomas to be bothered with active parenting and to examine his own failures as a father.

Sir Thomas makes a conscious choice to place stability above morality when he decides not to "enter into any remonstrance with his other children [about the play]; he was more willing to believe they felt their error, than to run the risk of investigation" (157, emphasis mine). That he was "more willing" suggests his belief was based solely on the desire for their repentance to be genuine than any knowledge that it was. Furthermore, what could be "the risk" that so concerns him? The risk is that he will discover his children are not repentant, which would reflect badly on him for not properly educating his children. His fear of the risk suggests that, no matter how hard he tries to be ignorant, he has some idea that his children are not all as morally responsible as he would have them be.

Not only is he eager to overlook any possibility of his children's immorality, but he also resolves that the house should be "cleared of every object enforcing the remembrance [of the play], and restored it to its proper state" (157). His concern is that the house appears in its proper state; he neither speaks nor thinks about the state of his children's minds. Sir Thomas wants to ignore the whole episode so that apparent peace and decorum can once again rule life at Mansfield. A reflection of this attitude can be found in "the music which Sir Thomas called for from his daughters" on the evening after his arrival home. This music "helped to conceal the want of any real harmony" within the family circle (160). The object here is to conceal, not to resolve, the discord. By failing to address that which is causing disharmony, Sir Thomas is teaching his children, by his example, that there is no important connection between inner morality and external propriety. By actively confronting and resolving problems, Sir Thomas could have taught his children that more than surface appearance is important, something that Maria and Julia sorely needed to learn.

Another way that Sir Thomas's concern with money and propriety comes in conflict with his basically good impulses is seen by his treatment of the marriage between Maria Bertram and Mr. Rushworth. In Sir Thomas's absence, Mrs. Norris contrives for the two to become engaged. Mr. Rushworth is not only the wealthiest man in the neighborhood but also of any man in Austen's novels. It is clear from the beginning that Maria's real interest is not in her fiancé, but in her belief that the marriage "would give her the enjoyment of a larger income than her father's, as well as a house in town, which was now a prime object" (34). This attitude towards marriage is the same as what drove Maria's mother to marry Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris to marry Mr. Norris: marrying for economic advantage is a "moral obligation" (34).

The only person who is even remotely troubled by Mr. Rushworth's insipidity is Edmund, who observes that if "this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow" (35). He makes this observation only to himself and does not reveal his opinion to his father. As it is unlikely that Sir Thomas's trust in Edmund's judgment is divorced from his expectation that Edmund would act upon such judgment, this represents a serious lapse on Edmund's part and a misjudgment on Sir Thomas's. This also shows one way that Mrs. Norris's watchfulness has failed. She found an outwardly respectable husband for her niece, but he is a man with no inner substance, something about which she is unconcerned.

Sir Thomas's first impression of Mr. Rushworth is that there "was nothing disagreeable in [his] appearance" (150). Characteristically, despite Sir Thomas's own claim to moral sensibility, his first investigation of Mr. Rushworth is into the young man's appearance. If Mr. Rushworth had not been so obviously "an inferior young man" (167), it is possible that Sir Thomas would have been able to completely disregard the insubstantiality of Maria's suitor, just as he ignores Mrs. Norris's behavior. Sir Thomas admits he "had expected a very different son-in-law; and beginning to feel a little grave on Maria's account, tried to understand her feelings. Little observation there was necessary to tell him that indifference was the most favourable state they could be in" (167). This moment is Sir Thomas's chance to redeem himself as a father; he is essentially well meaning and doesn't want to force Maria into a miserable marriage. He quite humanely offers to "act for her and release her" from the engagement, instead of requiring Maria to inform the unfortunate Mr. Rushworth herself (167). Sadly, Sir Thomas does not allow his good will to rule his actions as it should.

The truth of the matter is that the marriage is as advantageous to Sir Thomas as it is to his daughter. Mr. Rushworth's income is much greater than Sir Thomas's, and he comes from an older, more prestigious family than the Bertrams, so it "was an alliance which he could not relinquish without pain" (168). Maria's marriage to such a man would elevate the Bertram family by association and free Sir Thomas from any need to financially support his daughter in the future. Furthermore, considering the length of the engagement and the abundant traffic between the families, breaking the engagement would at the least create some extremely bad feeling in a very prominent family. Therefore, upon hearing Maria's rather thin assurances of her attachment to Mr. Rushworth, "Sir Thomas was satisfied, too glad to be satisfied perhaps to urge the matter" (168). In a much more serious way than he neglected to pursue the matter of the play, Sir Thomas is content not to push, fearing the possible outcome. These considerations, in addition to Sir Thomas's selfish belief that a "well-disposed young woman, who did not marry for love, was in general but the more attached to her own family" (168), make Sir Thomas a contributor to Maria's later infidelity.

Sir Thomas's views on the function and advantage of marriage do not alter following Maria's indiscretion. From his reaction to Julia's elopement with Mr. Yates, the reader sees that Sir Thomas's concern is once again both economic and social: There "was comfort in finding [Mr. Yates's] estate rather larger and his debts much less, than he had feared" (381). Mr. Yates's estate provides the socially accepted appearance of propriety while his debts being lower than expected will have a lesser impact on Sir Thomas's own finances. His primarily economic concern continues to the very end of the novel, as seen when he laments that "with all the cost and care of an anxious and expensive education, he had brought up his daughters without their understanding their first duties" (382, emphasis mine). They were not brought up according to his expectations of an expensive education because they "had been instructed theoretically in their religion, but never required to bring it into daily practice" (382). All that they learned was meaningless because no one made it clear there was a connection between outer propriety and inner morality.

Early on, Sir Thomas exposes what he truly thinks his daughters' education should accomplish: "while they retained the name of Bertram, [they] must be giving it new grace, and in quitting it he trusted would extend its respectable alliances" (19). The only way for daughters to make "respectable alliances" is for them to marry into a good family. The essential problem is that good education is not guaranteed by throwing money at it, a belief that Sir Thomas clings to even when it is shown how flawed such a belief is; his daughters are truly "victims of the way of life developed at Mansfield."[14] They failed to fulfill Sir Thomas's unvoiced expectations because those expectations were hidden beneath the examples set forth by the adults of Mansfield.

Sir Thomas's economic and social concerns also drive him to try to force Fanny to marry Henry Crawford. When the proposal is refused, Sir Thomas's primary complaint is "that his propertyless niece has refused to marry a man of substance—a man of whom he knows little beyond property holdings."[15] As with his first impression of Mr. Rushworth, he focuses solely on the surface. He has not learned from his experience that wealth and a pleasant appearance do not always guarantee moral character. Sir Thomas is caught completely by surprise when Fanny resists his attempts to persuade her, opposing him for the first time in her life. Instead of proving himself to be the uncle "so discerning, so honourable, so good" (262) that Fanny thinks he is, Sir Thomas fails to discern anything from Fanny's "acknowledgement of settled dislike" (262) than that she must be suddenly and inexplicably unreasonable.

In the chapters that follow, a reader begins to sense "a collusion between Henry and Sir Thomas, for while the former would seduce Fanny into marriage, the latter expends considerable energy in encouraging this seduction."[16] It is also important to note that although Henry tells his sister his goal is to make Fanny love him (191), Sir Thomas's goal is only to make Fanny marry a man she professes to be unable to love. This makes Henry slightly more admirable in the situation, even though the two of them are working together towards a similar goal. In Sir Thomas's defense, he is not aware of Henry's faults and has had no opportunity, at this point in the novel, to learn of them. Fanny seems perverse to Sir Thomas because he sees only that she has resolved "to refuse [Henry], without wishing even for a little time to consider" the proposal (263). It is only because the reader has privileged information regarding Henry's character that we sympathize with Fanny. Fanny cannot tell Sir Thomas that she loves Edmund; she rightly knows that it would upset her uncle. She also cannot tell him that she distrusts Henry's principles, because she could not reveal what makes Henry untrustworthy without implicating Maria and Julia.

Based on his assumption that Fanny is being nothing but a silly child, Sir Thomas initiates an attack that eventually culminates in temporarily banishing Fanny to Portsmouth. His attack shows how his concern for money leads him to think of human relations in terms of trade. His first strategy is to remind Fanny of all the gratitude she should feel towards Henry, especially in regard to her brother's promotion in the Navy. Though it is unfair for Sir Thomas to suggest that Fanny's gratitude should also indebt her to Mr. Crawford so much that she is obligated to marry him, nevertheless Fanny "did feel almost ashamed of herself, after such a picture as her uncle had drawn, for not liking Mr. Crawford" (261). His suggestion that Fanny should wed Henry for her brother's sake turns the whole affair into a business transaction: Henry essentially paid for Fanny with William's promotion.

When Fanny continues to resist, Sir Thomas attempts to shame her into the marriage by telling her, "you have disappointed every expectation I had formed and proved yourself of a character the very reverse of what I had supposed" (262). Now he is telling her that she must marry if she wants to be restored to his good opinion. Once again he is translating the situation into a matter of trade by implying that she must purchase his good opinion by marrying Mr. Crawford. Sir Thomas's attack reaches a crescendo when he threatens Fanny's future: You are, "in a wild fit of folly, throwing away from you such an opportunity of being settled in life, eligibly, honourably, nobly settled, as will, probably, never occur to you again" (263). Sir Thomas is not suggesting Fanny will never be proposed to again, but that no proposal so economically and socially advantageous is likely to occur again. Her happiness weighs little in the face of such heavy considerations.

Sir Thomas finally ceases his attack when Fanny's crying becomes violently bitter. Fanny is hardly able to articulate a response, but eventually she manages to say she is sorry. Sir Thomas completely misreads the situation and decides that Fanny might change her mind after "a little time, a little pressing, a little patience, and a little impatience, a judicious mixture of all on the lover's side" (264). After this decision, he changes his attitude towards her completely. He covertly tries to seduce her into marrying Mr. Crawford instead of actively pushing her into it. First he promises: "I shall make no mention below of what has passed; I shall not even tell your aunt Bertram" (265). This is meant to, and does, evoke gratitude in Fanny. Even when Sir Thomas is being kinder to Fanny, he is still acting as if this is all a matter of trade; he is making this concession with the expectation of being repaid later.

Sir Thomas's decision to order a fire in her room, which "was to be every day" (266), has a double motive. His attitude towards the necessity of having a fire before he became angry suggests that he was intending to order it all along. Sir Thomas does show a great deal of generosity to Fanny, but it is a generosity that comes with a price. He believes Fanny is already in his debt for the things he has provided her, so with the fire comes new debt. It does make Fanny yet more grateful and also ashamed that he would show her such generosity when he thought so ill of her. When one considers how calculated Sir Thomas's actions are and how unfair is his refusal to accept Fanny's assurance that she cannot like Henry, it greatly undermines any good feeling the reader is likely to feel towards him.

From this point forward, Sir Thomas decides "to show no open interference" on Henry's behalf (272), except to inform Fanny that she "cannot suppose [him] capable of trying to persuade [her] to marry against [her] inclinations" (273). This is partially true, but it masks the truly insidious nature of what he is trying to do: shape Fanny's very inclinations through his manipulations. This shows how little Sir Thomas values Fanny's opinions because clearly he doesn't think her inclinations are valid unless they match what he expects them to be.

When Fanny fails to show any sign of missing Henry after his departure to London, Sir Thomas concludes that Fanny's "understanding" must be "diseased" (305). His "medicinal" solution is to send her to Portsmouth with the intention that it will show her what her future might be if she does not accept Mr. Crawford (305). The plan is another insight into the true values of Sir Thomas. For decorum's sake, he tells everyone that it is proper for Fanny to visit her family after a nine-year absence. The reality is that it "had very little to do with the propriety of her seeing her parents again, and nothing at all with any idea of making her happy. He certainly wished her to go willingly, but he as certainly wished her to be heartily sick of home before her visit ended" (305). Sir Thomas's internal thoughts reveal how hypocritical he is. When he reveals the plan to Edmund, he chooses to reveal only part of the truth by saying that Fanny should return to Portsmouth with her brother. Not only would such an underhanded scheme not have occurred to a man who was truly as morally proper as he wants others to believe, but he would have been more considerate of Fanny's feelings when Mr. Crawford first proposed.

Sir Thomas learns nothing about being considerate from this episode. When Maria runs off with Henry, Sir Thomas briefly admits that he "ought not to have allowed the marriage, that his daughter's sentiments had been sufficiently known to him to render him culpable in authorizing it" (380). He realizes that his failure to follow through on his good intention at least partially caused Maria's infidelity. Had he stopped the marriage, the break between the Rushworths and Bertrams would have been less painful than what was caused by allowing the unfortunate marriage to occur. However, despite this realization, he allows no consideration for Maria. He adamantly refuses to accept her back into the household, only agreeing that "she should be protected by him, and secured in every comfort, and supported by every encouragement to do right" (383). In essence, he willingly gives her money but otherwise tells her to stay out of his life. His choice to banish her is "morally justifiable, [but] rather harsh, especially considering [. . .] Sir Thomas's recognition of his own failures."[17] Despite his previous recognition of his own culpability, he concludes that "Maria had destroyed her own character" and rejects any responsibility, beyond an economic one, for her (383).

Edmund Bertram:

"Morally detestable"[18]

Edmund is admirable in his steadfast friendship with Fanny. Unlike his sisters, mother, and aunt, Edmund never treats Fanny as a lesser being because of her lower social status. When Fanny arrives at the Bertram estate, she is frightened, ridiculed, and mostly ignored, until her cousin Edmund finds her "sitting crying on the attic stairs" (14). Instead of ignoring her, he finds out what is bothering her. Not only that, but he devises the best way to make her happy again: he makes it possible for her to write her brother, William. From that point forward, Edmund "was always true to her interests, and considerate of her feelings, trying to make her good qualities understood, and to conquer the diffidence which prevented their being more apparent" (19). Fanny depends on Edmund to protect her from her cousins and aunts and to see that her interests are served, because her timidity will not allow her to defend herself.

Like his father, Edmund is also generous with Fanny. When the old pony reserved for Fanny dies, Edmund overcomes Mrs. Norris's objections to purchasing another horse for her by exchanging his third horse for a mare that was thereafter considered Fanny's in all but name; this somehow appeased Mrs. Norris. However, this kindness is eventually double-edged, for after Mary Crawford arrives the mare represents Edmund's first lapse in consideration for Fanny. Mary expresses an interest in riding and Edmund is, of course, eager to teach her. The only suitable horse is the mare that has been Fanny's. Mary's first morning learning to ride turned into a considerably longer second morning. That morning in turn became a whole day's ride viewing the Mansfield-common, and inevitably, that day turned into four days during which Fanny was deprived of her own daily ride. Because of this, Fanny is left "without any excuse for avoiding whatever her unreasonable aunts might require" (63). Edmund felt guilty for being the cause of this and "resolved, however unwilling he must be to check a pleasure of Miss Crawford's, that it should never happen again" (63). Happily, he holds to this particular promise, but as his attachment to Mary continues to grow, his consideration for Fanny almost inevitably shrinks.

At an early point in the novel, during a gathering at the Mansfield estate, a trip to Sotherton is discussed. When Mrs. Norris, in her typical fashion, takes over the planning of the excursion, she immediately excludes Fanny from participating without any consideration for Fanny's wishes or feelings. Edmund, who remains aloof from the conversation, nevertheless "heard it all and said nothing" (53). He does not openly oppose his aunt, because it would be indecorous to contradict publicly one of his elders. His tendency to watch and pass judgment without voicing his concerns is a recurring theme in Mansfield Park. Later, however, when the plan is actually put into place, Edmund redeems himself by making it possible for Fanny to participate.

When Mrs. Rushworth personally invites the family to visit, Mrs. Norris instantly declines the invitation given specifically for Fanny, insisting that her niece must stay at home with Lady Bertram. Edmund manages to find an indirect way of opposing his aunt by volunteering himself to keep his mother company. This is also a chance for him to make up for Fanny's horse deprivation of the preceding chapter. Even though his gesture turns out to be unnecessary, it would have been a considerable sacrifice on Edmund's part because of his growing affection for Mary Crawford. Such a trip would, and does, give him an opportunity to spend time exclusively with her.

Once they arrive at Sotherton, it is increasingly apparent that Edmund's regard for Mary is interfering with his ability to be, in relation to both his sisters and his cousin, the conscientious and morally correct person that he normally is. During the tour of the Sotherton estate, they arrive at the chapel, where Edmund gives a speech about how a clergyman "has the charge of all that is of the first importance to mankind, individually or collectively considered, temporally and eternally,—which has the guardianship of religion and morals, and consequently of the manners which result from their influence" (77). This speech proves to be especially ironic because he is "oblivious to the dangerous game being played out under his nose, dazzled by the company of a pretty girl."[19] The dangerous game is the flirtation that is playing out between Maria and Mr. Crawford; it is a flirtation that foreshadows their eventual adultery.

He also fails, because of Mary, to be considerate of Fanny. When they are out walking through the forest, Fanny becomes fatigued and they rest. After a few moments and some encouragement from Mary, Edmund abandons Fanny to the solitude of her resting place and continues the walk with Mary (80). They later reveal to Fanny that, while they were walking, "they had been across a portion of the park into the very avenue which Fanny had been hoping the whole morning to reach at last" (87). Edmund is well aware of Fanny's desire to see this, we know from a previous conversation, but he is distracted by Mary's flirting. When they finally return to where Fanny has been waiting, too much of the day has passed for her be able to see the avenue and return to the house in time for dinner.

Indeed, it is those times when "Miss Crawford's power" (287) is strongest over Edmund that he becomes the most morally reprehensible, the most likely to sacrifice his morality, in order to overlook her indiscretions. Edmund is planning to become a clergyman and displays a genuine vocation for that role. Mary ridicules his chosen profession, and is especially troubled that his convictions will require him to actually live at his parsonage, rather than in a more stylish London residence with occasional visits to give a sermon. Instead of making a choice between his vocation and his love for Mary, or seeking a compromise, he ignores the conflict. For instance, "Edmund was sorry to hear" Mary make a disrespectful comment about her uncle, but he does not censure her (49). Although public disrespect is contrary to his "sense of propriety, [. . .] he was silenced, till induced by further smiles and liveliness, to put the matter by for the present" (49). Later during the same party, Mary makes a coarse joke about her uncle's acquaintances in the Navy and Edmund has a similar reaction (51). He "again felt grave" but then he changes the subject back "to the harp, and was again very happy in the prospect of hearing [Mary] play" (52). Both times he felt he should draw away from Mary because of her faults, but just moments later he is easily persuaded to restore her to his former regard.

Later events continue to show how his attachment to Mary puts Edmund in a morally conflicted position. In relation to Mary's comments about her uncle and his acquaintances, he later tells Fanny, "I do not censure her opinions, but there certainly is impropriety in making them public" (54). As a future-clergyman, he should be as concerned with what people think as with what they say. This is also a moment that shows how closely Edmund resembles his father. He is concerned not with the interior morals of his beloved, but with the propriety of her exterior actions. His attempts to resolve or ignore the differences between the two prove to be a constant struggle for Edmund.

Another observation Edmund makes to Fanny about Miss Crawford is that "there is not a shadow of either [ill humour or roughness] in the countenance of Miss Crawford, nothing sharp, or loud, or coarse. She is perfectly feminine, except" for the improper comments she made about her uncle (55, emphasis mine). The word "countenance" is particularly important in this instance because it shows how much more concerned Edmund is with her outward appearance than her inner qualities. He insists that she is not "coarse," even though this particular conversation was inspired because of the dirty joke she had made the night before. Despite this knowledge, he manages to deceive himself enough so that he can pursue his desire for her, ignoring such "excepts" and focusing only on her "perfect" femininity. Throughout the novel, we see Edmund putting "the matter by" in favor of Mary's feminine traits, which are all too clearly surface features.

Edmund's ability to overcome Mary's unfeminine and indecorous humor is aided by Fanny's unawareness of the dirty joke. Edmund's main desire in this conversation was to discover whether or not Fanny understood it. When Fanny only charges Mary with ingratitude towards her uncle, Edmund quickly excuses her, assuring Fanny that Mary is "awkwardly circumstanced" because of the bad relationship between Mary's aunt and uncle (54). He insists it is "natural and amiable that Miss Crawford should acquit her aunt entirely" (54). Once the matter is settled that Mary is not ungracious and that Fanny failed to understand the true nature of Mary's joke, Edmund is eager to put it behind them and focus on her more pleasing, feminine traits.

Mary's final crime that forces Edmund to give her up does not change his feelings for her. When Maria and Mr. Crawford run off together, Mary honestly says that she thinks of "it only as folly, and that folly stamped only by exposure" (375). Furthermore, it was the "want of common discretion, of caution" that she saw as foolish, not the actual act of running off (375). Edmund condemns her not so much because he disagrees with her assessment, but because he is shocked that she would express the thought openly. Maria and Mr. Crawford do not feel any differently than they did during the play, but Edmund was able to overlook it because it was not "stamped by exposure." As with Mary's opinion about her uncle, he does not censure Maria and Mr. Crawford's feelings, only that they made them public. He admits to Fanny that after leaving Mary he has sometimes "regretted that [he] did not go back; but [he knows he] was right: (379). Although he knows he must give her up because of what had happened, in his heart he wishes it could be otherwise. If Edmund is genuinely shocked by the values behind Mary's statement, it is only because he has not examined his own values closely enough. Clearly, from his actions, or lack thereof, during the play, Edmund did not censure Maria and Henry's feelings or actions until they were made in an inappropriately public manner.

When the theatricals are first proposed by Tom Bertram, Edmund shows how much he knows of what is going on between Maria and Henry when he expresses his opposition to the plan. He tells Tom "it would be very wrong [. . .] with regard to Maria, whose situation is a very delicate one, considering everything, extremely delicate" (105). The fact that Maria is engaged would not alone be the reason for him to consider it "delicate." The delicacy arises because Mr. Rushworth is completely unbearable and because Maria and Henry have been involved in excessive flirting ever since Mr. Crawford's arrival. Edmund is unable to halt the theatricals, nor does he try to halt the continued flirting of Maria and Henry, caught as he was "between his theatrical and his real part, between Miss Crawford's claims and his own conduct, between love and consistency" (135).

Edmund's feelings for Mary are what make him decide to back down from his stance against the theatricals. Because of his initial refusal to participate, Tom decides to ask another person in the neighborhood to join the play and take the role of Anhalt, which is to be played opposite Mary's Amelia. He suggests two men, Tom Oliver or Charles Maddox. Mary asks that Charles Maddox, who "dined at [the Grants'] one day [. . .and was a] quiet-looking young man," be invited to join the group (124). This request is given in the presence of Edmund and it is no coincidence that the next day he elects to join the theatricals as Anhalt. Edmund explains to Fanny that "the excessive intimacy which must spring from [Charles Maddox] being admitted among us in this manner, is highly objectionable, the more than intimacy—the familiarity" (128). One must especially consider here that the Crawfords are not part of the Bertram family, but he does not express any concern that they are included in the theater plan. His concern is clearly not with a general familiarity between the Maddox family and the Bertram family, but between Charles and Mary.

Mrs. Norris's malicious attitude towards Fanny is also something that Edmund observes but fails to stop, much like the flirtation between Maria and Henry. He does, at times, manage to make up for her meanness, but he is always constrained by his sense of propriety. After the death of Mr. Norris, Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram think that Mrs. Norris will want to have Fanny come live with her. Fanny is terrified at the prospect and confides in Edmund. He attempts to reassure her by insisting that Mrs. Norris is not really bad; it is simply that she "never knew how to be pleasant to children" (23). This is a completely false statement, because Fanny is the only child that Mrs. Norris is unpleasant to. She dotes on Maria and Julia and never says anything vicious to Tom or Edmund; in short, she uses Fanny as a scapegoat because she can do so without fear of retribution from Sir Thomas.

Edmund goes on to say that with Fanny now being grown, Mrs. Norris "is behaving better already, and when [Fanny is] her only companion, [she] must be important to her" (23). There is no evidence that Mrs. Norris is going to change or has changed her attitude towards Fanny, but Edmund's "principles will not allow [him] to rebel, and [he makes] the best of it."[20] His principles, or rather his belief that it would be highly improper to contradict one of his elders, prevent him from bringing Mrs. Norris's behavior and Fanny's discomfort to Sir Thomas's attention. Although he often protects Fanny from her "unreasonable aunts" (63) when he is present, he would serve her interests much better if he were to inform Sir Thomas of the reality of the situation. Edmund cannot be held entirely to blame for this attitude, because it is one he clearly learned from his father, who often chooses to overlook Mrs. Norris's behavior.

Another reality that Edmund is unwilling to discuss with his father is what sort of influence Mrs. Norris actually has. Considering that it is her "watchful attention" that Sir Thomas is relying on to see to it his daughters and other interests are properly cared for in his absence, there is little point to her being watchful if she is ineffective in addressing what she sees. When it is evident that Edmund's objections to the play will be completely disregarded, Fanny suggests that her aunt Norris would be on Edmund's side and might do something. Edmund agrees, but says that she "has no influence with either Tom or [his] sisters that could be of any use" (108). From how the sentence is worded, Mrs. Norris clearly has some influence; it is simply an influence that is not of "use" in this situation. What he is alluding to is her strong influence over Maria and Julia when it comes to encouraging their conceit, but there is little she can or will do to curb the pursuit of their desires.

Edmund's biggest failure towards Fanny occurs after Henry proposes. At the time of Henry Crawford's declaration of love for Fanny, Edmund was away preparing for and being ordained. Upon his return, his father updates him on the situation, and Edmund has a chance to observe Fanny and Mr. Crawford together that same evening. One would hope that he who knows Fanny better than any resident at Mansfield Park would be able to discern how Fanny really feels about Mr. Crawford and stop his father's manipulations. Edmund does notice that Fanny's encouragement "was so little, so very very little, [. . .] that he was almost ready to wonder at his friend's perseverance" (277). Instead of telling Sir Thomas there is no hope of Fanny's loving Henry, Edmund manages to convince himself that he is missing something. As it turns out, Edmund "was very willing to hope that Crawford saw clearer; and this was the most comfortable conclusion" to which he could come (277-8, emphasis mine). Edmund is showing how completely he is his father's son: He comes to the conclusion that is most comfortable for him. In other words, Edmund wants Fanny and Henry to marry, so he is "very willing" to deceive himself for that end.

Fanny, having failed to receive that confirmation from Sir Thomas, tries to tell Edmund about her doubts in the hope that at least one person who will confirm her belief that she is right in resisting an "advantageous marriage to a man whom she doesn't love and whose moral outlook she distrusts."[21] Instead, Edmund urges her to "let [Henry Crawford] succeed at last" (288), which suggests that Fanny's dislike is invalid and can be changed if she only gave it a little effort. By placing all of the responsibility for Henry succeeding or not succeeding on Fanny, he is disregarding Henry's role in creating a relationship. Furthermore, Edmund proceeds to either ignore Fanny or explain away her objections in terms that are clearly meant to refer to his relationship with Mary rather than Fanny's predicament.

The first objection that Fanny gives Edmund is that she and Henry are "so totally unalike [. . .that she considers] it as quite impossible [they] should ever be tolerably happy together" (288). At first, Edmund begins to address the similarity between Fanny and Henry. They both have good taste in literature. However, he quickly and clearly starts thinking about Mary Crawford, and instead of addressing Fanny's concerns, he begins justifying his own affection for Mary; of being unlike in temper he says, "I am perfectly persuaded that the tempers had better be unlike; I mean unlike in the flow of the spirits, in the manners, in the inclination for much or little company, the propensity to talk or to be silent, to be grave or to be gay" (289). Although he is ostensibly talking about Fanny and Crawford, he is really trying to convince himself that Mary would make a suitable partner for himself. Fanny herself could easily "guess where his thoughts were [. . .]. Miss Crawford's power was all returning" (289).

After allowing Edmund to dwell on Mary for a few minutes, Fanny attempts to bring the conversation back to her concerns. She says that she "cannot approve of [Henry's] character" and goes on to point out that he behaved "so very improperly and unfeelingly [. . .] not seeming to care how much he exposed or hurt [Mr. Rushworth], and paying attentions to [her] cousin Maria" at the time of the play (289). Edmund, thinking more of his own behavior during the play, is forced to excuse everyone in order to excuse himself. He tells her, "let us not, any of us, be judged by what we appeared at that period of general folly" (289, emphasis mine). The feelings that were expressed, disguised as they were in their roles for a fictional play, are regarded by Edmund as "folly." This is almost identical to Mary's assessment of Maria and Henry, except that in the case of the play, Maria and Henry were successful in keeping their actions hidden from public notice.[22]

Fanny does manage to convince Edmund that her observations about Maria, Julia, and Henry are not completely unfounded, but Edmund is eager to acquit Henry at the expense of his sisters. He says, "I think it very possible that they might, one or both, be more desirous of being admired by Crawford, and might shew that desire rather more unguardedly than was perfectly prudent. I can remember that they were evidently fond of his society" (290). He admits that there was some openly imprudent behavior going between the Bertram girls and Henry, but he ignores Henry's role entirely. This goes against any idea of familial duty that Sir Thomas would have certainly encouraged. Also, considering that Edmund has just recently taken vows, it is an extremely hypocritical thing to say. Henry is responsible for his actions in what has happened, as are Maria and Julia for theirs, but Edmund assumes he cannot admit that without jeopardizing his chances with Miss Crawford.

Indeed, as the conversation progresses, it is even clearer that Mary Crawford is the object of his thoughts. Edmund tells Fanny, "I have no common interest in Crawford's well doing. Next to your happiness, Fanny, his has the first claim on me. You are aware of my having no common interest in Crawford" (291). Until this point in the novel, any time there was a family gathering that included the Crawfords, all of Edmund's attention had been on Mary and all of Henry's had been for the Bertram girls. This unusual statement lacks any real truth because there has been no evidence of a warm relationship between Henry and Edmund.

Edmund is trying to use Fanny to further his own interests in much the same way as his father tried to use Maria's engagement. He selfishly realizes "that a marriage between Fanny and Henry, in addition to being an economic coup for Fanny, would also immeasurably advance his own suit for Henry's sister."[23] He has been spending considerable time at the Grants' house with Mary since his return from being ordained. Mary presents a considerable difficulty to Edmund because of her objections to his profession and to his choice to live at his assigned parsonage. Additionally, his own morals object to her frequently indecorous way of speaking, although for the most part he manages to ignore his objections. This difficulty causes Edmund's serious lapses in moral judgment as well as his reprehensible attitude towards Fanny and her problem with Henry.

Fanny Price:

"A monster of complacency and pride"[24]

Fanny is the most ambiguous and contradictory of Austen's heroines. One of the best examples is brought out in the contrast between her feelings about the chaotic and disorderly Portsmouth and the richly privileged Mansfield. The reader's first impression of Mansfield is one of selfishness. When nine-year-old Fanny arrived, she was confused and lonely; everything was new and strange. Until Edmund took notice of her, she was either ignored or ridiculed. Her feelings were mostly ignored, because "nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort" (325). It is clearly thoughtless of the Mansfield adults to uproot a small child and then place her in new surroundings without any thought to her feelings.

Nine years later, while visiting Portsmouth, Fanny longs to return to Mansfield, despite the selfishness and hypocrisy that dictates life there. She is longing for Mansfield even after she has learned, as D.W. Harding writes, that her "moral stand has to be made against"[25] the people of Mansfield. At Portsmouth, "she could think of nothing but Mansfield, its beloved inmates, its happy ways [. . .]. The elegance, propriety, regularity, harmony—and perhaps, above all, the peace of Mansfield" is what she misses most (325). There is no clear reason why the "inmates" of Mansfield should be beloved. Mrs. Norris abuses her, Sir Thomas is trying to force her to marry a man she is convinced she can never like, and Lady Bertram only notices her if something needs to be fetched or done. However, these unattractive realities are hidden beneath the calm exterior of their decorous lives at Mansfield. She longs for an exterior harmony that she must know only hides interior chaos.

This elegant exterior is not without its advantages. Upon first arriving at Portsmouth to visit her natural family, she is virtually ignored, a position she does not like. She reminds herself that "in her uncle's house there would have been a consideration of times and seasons, a regulation of subject, a propriety, an attention towards every body" (317). The words "regulation" and "propriety" suggest that it is a customary civility that may not indicate genuine concern. Fanny finds comfort in the meaningless conversation and consideration of Mansfield instead of rejecting the coldness and thoughtlessness of the Bertram family. Even though the general Bertram indifference has allowed Mrs. Norris's pettiness to pain her for nine years, she refuses to reject that way of life.

Few people at Mansfield Park would think to pay attention to someone out of true regard, yet this is the place to which Fanny wants to return. It is a polite society that has none of the honesty, coarse and self-centered as it may be, of Portsmouth. After having been subjected to the noise and carelessness of her family for a few days, Fanny decides that if "tenderness could ever be supposed wanting [at Mansfield Park], good sense, and good breeding, supplied its place" (325). Fanny has become an advocate for the stable but insincere lifestyle of her relatives, and she cannot understand the life in which the open feelings and desires of the individual are the primary focus. These coarse but genuine values become wrong in Fanny's mind because they are alien to the way she is accustomed to seeing people behave.

In Fanny's opinion, Portsmouth is the opposite of everything she values at Mansfield Park. Her parents' house is "the abode of noise, disorder, and impropriety" (322), and no one observes the conventions of decorum she is comfortable with at Mansfield. She thinks that the "men appeared [. . .] all coarse, the women all pert, every body under-bred; and she gave as little contentment as she received from introductions either to old or new acquaintance" (327). Fanny's Mansfield education has turned her into something of a snob. She gives "little contentment" to the people she meets because she is inconsiderate and treats them, including those with whom she had been friends before her departure, as though they are beneath her. Fanny's inability to be polite to the people of Portsmouth is emphasized even more by Henry's perfectly polite and kind attitude during his visit. The "good breeding" and "consideration" of Mansfield have failed her because they make her too snobbish to be civil to people whose worth she believes is less than her own.

Fanny is also bothered that her family has no interest in learning more about her. She begins to lament that there is "so little said or asked about herself" but then breaks off the self-pitying thought and forces herself to wonder that there is "scarcely an enquiry made after Mansfield! It did her pain to have Mansfield forgotten; the friends who had done so much—the dear, dear friends" (317). Fanny uses her concern for Mansfield to shield herself from her own selfishness. There is no reason that Fanny's parents would care about Mansfield nor any reason for Fanny to think they would. Although Sir Thomas takes one daughter off their hands and helps in William's career, they still have several more children to worry about. Raising one child and helping to educate and employ the Price boys cannot heal the breach in the family created by Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Price.

Fanny is a harsh judge of her parents, especially of her mother. In fact, Fanny is much harsher on her mother than the narrator is. The narrator comments that Mrs. Price's "disposition was naturally easy and indolent, like Lady Bertram's; and a situation of similar affluence and do-nothing-ness, would have been much more suited to her capacity" (323). On a much meaner and more bitter note, Fanny feels that

her mother was a partial, ill-judging parent, a dawdle, a slattern, who neither taught nor restrained her children, whose house was the scene of mis-management and discomfort from beginning to end, and who had no talent, no conversation, no affection towards [Fanny]; no curiosity to know her better, no desire for friendship

with her (324). The irony in these two assessments is that Fanny is noticing the very qualities in Mrs. Price that make her most like Lady Bertram, but she fails to make the connection. Lady Bertram does nothing but sit around on the sofa with her pug; she does not restrain her children, as seen in her indifference to the theatricals. Lady Bertram depends on Fanny considerably, but the presence of any affection for Fanny is questionable as Lady Bertram is clearly only concerned with her own comfort and desires. The only substantial difference between them is that Lady Bertram can afford servants and has Mrs. Norris to make up for her ineptitude as a mother.

During the trip to Sotherton, Fanny is placed in a situation where she has to witness the dangerous behavior of Mr. Crawford and Maria, which is encouraged by the neglect of either Lady Bertram or Mrs. Norris to restrain them at Mansfield. In this situation, her moral education comes in conflict with the belief, instilled in her by Sir Thomas and his family, that she is in a social position much lower than theirs. When Maria is about to escape through the fence with Henry, "Fanny, feeling all this to be wrong, could not help making an effort to prevent it" (84). Fanny knows that, as a moral person, she should also be responsible for helping guide those around her. On the other hand, Fanny has also been taught that she is socially inferior to her cousins and that she would, therefore, be presumptuous to criticize them. In this case, she could not suppress her moral impulse and so she suggests that Maria might tear her gown while clambering around the fence. Because Fanny is speaking these words while Maria is already going through the fence, clearly she is not worried about Maria's dress being ruined, but about Maria's morality and reputation. She could not say anything more pointed because of her status within the Bertram family, but she does feel a great deal of confusion at the wrongness and her inability to act. Maria disregards the warning, of course, and disappears into the landscape with Henry.

Fanny's involvement in the situation at the gate does not end with Maria and Henry's disappearance, because Mr. Rushworth soon returns with the key, and Fanny is left in the uncomfortable position of telling him what occurred. After Fanny explains, she says, "'it is very unlucky.' And she longed to be able to say something more to the purpose" (86, emphasis mine). If she were to say "something more to the purpose," she would tell Mr. Rushworth more than the factual account of what occurred and warn him of the dangerous emotional attachment she had been observing. This would be a highly improper and indecorous thing to say, so Fanny has to choose to say nothing. In addition, making an oblique allusion to her cousin about the dangers is a much different proposition than trying to explain to the dense Mr. Rushworth the intricacies of Maria's and Henry's interaction. Edmund and Sir Thomas have put Fanny in this conflicted position because of the education that makes her both subordinate and judgmental. She is unable to act on the principles of Edmund's moral teachings because of Sir Thomas's concern for decorum. This is clearly a struggle for her or else she would not wish to say more.

The theatricals find Fanny once again in the observer's role, this time by choice rather than chance. Fanny becomes Maria and Henry's only audience following the second rehearsal "and—sometimes as prompter, sometimes as spectator—was often very useful" (137). This is an odd situation because of Fanny's apparent opposition to the theater when she was asked to play a role. Additionally, when Edmund decides to participate, Fanny sees it as a moral lapse, which she blames on Miss Crawford, and yet she doesn't recognize her own lapse by supporting the play in her role as prompter and audience. Plays require audiences, and Fanny supplies one.

When she is first pressed to join in the theatricals, she is described as "frightened" (122), not appalled or disgusted, as one might expect from someone who finds the suggestion morally repugnant. The only objection for having a role in the play she ever offers her cousins is that she "cannot act" (122). Her resistance is not from a morally superior stance, but "the resistance of timidity to public display."[26] This is best proven by her mortification at "being excluded—at her own obstinate insistence—from the theatricals."[27] She does not wish, as Edmund initially does, to see the theatricals abolished, despite her tendency to have some very proper thoughts about how wrong they all are; rather, she wishes to have her usual role—to be useful but not the focus of attention. Fanny's behavior shows how contradictorily the values of Mansfield lead her and the others to act; those values do not provide any guidance for reconciling emotions and values except by denying rather than acknowledging the possible need for reconciliation.

Luckily for Fanny, as the play progresses, she is no longer "sad and insignificant" (132). In fact, she is "far from finding herself without employment or utility amongst them" (138), be it helping sew a part of Mr. Rushworth's costume or helping him learn his lines. Fanny eventually finds herself more involved in the theatricals than any one else, because she is "a very courteous listener, and often the only listener at hand" (136). She is the only member of the group who actually sees most of the play acted out and knows much of it by heart, because of her role as prompter and listener.

This episode brings out another moral conflict for Fanny: her sense of what is right conflicts with what she desires. She thinks that for "her own gratification she could have wished that something might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but every thing of high consequence was against it" (111). Intellectually, she knows that she should be opposed to the theatricals for the disrespect to Sir Thomas and for the immorality they represent; however, she also knows she would derive much enjoyment from them. Her inadequate moral education in the Mansfield Park atmosphere has not prepared her for this kind of conflict. In Sir Thomas's household, the concern for propriety is above all other considerations, so there would be no forum to explore how to balance personal desires with moral knowledge.

Sir Thomas has not been Fanny's major moral teacher. In fact, Edmund had a much greater role in forming her mind than any other resident at Mansfield Park (55). In order to consider the strength of Fanny's morals, one must also consider the teacher. Fanny "regarded her cousin [Edmund] as an example of everything good and great, as possessing worth, which no one but herself could ever appreciate, and as entitled to such gratitude from her, as no feelings could be strong enough to pay" (33). This sentiment is formed soon after Fanny's arrival at Mansfield and continues throughout the novel. She not only appreciates the attention he has given her, but she idolizes him. In her eyes, Edmund can do no wrong, and furthermore, she owes it to his kindness to think the best of him.

Fanny's adoration colors her judgment when Edmund begins to be inconsistent. When he finally capitulates to performing in the play, Fanny thinks: "Could it be possible? Edmund so inconsistent . . . Alas! it was all Miss Crawford's doing. She had seen her influence in every speech, and was miserable" (130). Fanny immediately turns her surprise at Edmund into blame towards Mary. Although it is true that Edmund's concern for Mary's comfort gives him an excuse to succumb, Edmund alone is responsible for his choices, a fact that Fanny is unable to accept. She cannot be entirely to blame for her reaction, because nothing in her education has prepared her for coping with a situation like this.

One critic, Mary Waldron, also notes that Fanny's "disappointment in Edmund [and] jealousy of Mary [. . .] lead her into very reprehensible emotions that she tries hard to disguise."[28] The main problem is that Fanny cannot admit she is either disappointed in Edmund or jealous of Mary, because either would be in conflict with the social status to which she has been assigned at Mansfield. To be disappointed in Edmund suggests that she is in a place to criticize him, which she does not feel herself to be. To admit jealousy towards Mary would admit her more-than-sisterly affection for Edmund, which suggests she aspires to a position she feels she cannot have.

Fanny's stubborn dislike of Mary causes her to sometimes misjudge and be rather consistently rude towards Mary. This dislike is often tested by Mary's kindness towards Fanny. Mary is one of few people at Mansfield who treat Fanny as an equal. And yet, because Fanny is "disinclined to force herself to be civil to those—a numerous company—whose superior she thinks herself to be,"[29] she also cannot bring herself to get to know Mary well enough to change her own opinion.

When Mary defends Fanny from Mrs. Norris and the Bertrams during the theater scheme, Fanny only responds to the kindness because she "could not help admitting it to be very agreeable flattery, or help listening, and answering with more animation than she had intended" (123-4). Clearly, Fanny had wanted to remain as cold and unfriendly as she usually is towards Mary, but in this instance she could not resist Mary's attempts to be comforting. By the following day, Fanny is once again able to refuse her kindness, and when "Miss Crawford came [to Mansfield] with looks of gaiety which seemed an insult, and with friendly expressions towards herself which she could hardly answer calmly" (132), Fanny had resumed her morally superior attitude. The real emotions of a young girl in a difficult position are conflicting with the morals and propriety she has been taught to uphold, and she has no idea how to reconcile them.

Fanny recognizes her own failure to treat Mary as well as she should. After Edmund left Mansfield to be ordained, Mary expressed worry to Fanny that Edmund will fall in love with some other girl. This puts Fanny in a predicament. Comforting Mary would concede that Mary had won Edmund's heart but refusing to do so would be ungracious, a serious fault in Fanny's opinion. Fanny thinks "Miss Crawford's kind opinion of herself deserved at least a grateful forbearance, and she began to talk of something else" (167). Fanny, refusing the kind words Mary needs, which is in effect giving her the cold shoulder, changes the topic.

Fanny's inability to show Mary kindness also contributes to her impotence when it comes to aiding Mary's moral reform. Fanny admits that Mary had "some amiable sensations, and much personal kindness" but, for Fanny, even though Mary "might love, [. . .] she did not deserve Edmund by any other sentiment" (304). Fanny has opportunities to help shape Mary's mind so that she would make a more suitable clergyman's wife, but Fanny consciously chooses not to do so. Fanny "would prefer Mary to remain hardened in her materialism and therefore unacceptable to Edmund."[30] One such instance could have occurred during their discussions following Edmund's departure. Fanny had ample opportunity to advise Mary, who was willing to listen to what opinions Fanny could offer, but chose to "talk of something else" instead (167).

Remembering Fanny's insight into Susan makes for an interesting way to consider Fanny's refusal to accept Mary's ability to change. In dealing with Mrs. Price and their sister Betsy, Susan's "manner was wrong, however, at times very wrong—her measures often ill-chosen and ill-timed, and her looks and language very indefensible, Fanny could not cease to feel; but she began to hope they might be rectified" (328). Fanny believes that Susan possesses good feeling and intentions, but that she also suffers from a lack of proper education and good examples at home. This is similar to how Mary's family situation is described, but "Fanny sees Mary's mind as 'polluted,' and therefore unchangeable, while Susan is simply 'far from amiable' and a proper subject for reform."[31] The important distinction between Susan and Mary is that Fanny is deeply jealous of the latter but is not threatened by Susan.

One instance of Mary's attempt to reform herself is when Fanny and Mary are visiting and Mary admits, "I am conscious of being far better reconciled to a country residence than I had ever expected to be. I can even suppose it pleasant to spend half the year in the country" (175). Although this is not what Fanny knows Edmund expects in a wife, it is a considerable improvement from Mary's earlier attitude, which was adamantly against living in the country at all. Mary goes on to describe what she imagines life will be like and then asks Fanny, there "is nothing frightful in such a picture, is there Miss Price?" (175). Mary is looking for confirmation that her expectations are right, but Fanny does not respond to the question. It would have been a chance for her to give Mary insight into what Edmund would expect their life to be like, which would have encouraged Mary to continue to rethink her attitude. Fanny refuses to acknowledge Mary's attempts to adapt to Edmund's vocation because of her own love for Edmund and her consequent jealousy and not because Mary is beyond redemption.

Fanny's initial dislike of Henry Crawford also has more to do with Fanny's feelings for Edmund than anything Henry has done, despite her insistence otherwise. When Edmund is teaching Mary to ride, using Fanny's mare, she waits rather impatiently as they keep the horse beyond the time that was agreed upon for Mary's lesson. Her first impulse is jealousy, but her mind quickly shies away from that emotion and instead she reminds herself that she

must not wonder at all this; what could be more natural than that Edmund should be making himself useful, and proving his good-nature by anyone? She could not but think indeed that Mr. Crawford might well have saved him the trouble; that it would have been proper and becoming in a brother to have done it himself; but Mr. Crawford, with all his boasted good nature, and all his coachmanship, probably knew nothing of the matter, and had no active kindness in comparison of Edmund. (57-8)

Fanny is working very hard here to convince herself that Edmund is not showing any particular liking for Mary. She wants to believe that Edmund is just being good-natured and that he would do the same thing for anyone. This leads her to blame Henry for Edmund having to do it at all. Without any information beyond the assumption that the only reason Edmund is helping Mary is because Henry will not, Fanny decides to dislike Henry even before he shows what kind of irresponsible flirt he can be. Even though Fanny is ultimately proven to be right in her assessment of Henry's character, it is important to note that her dislike was not, at first, from any rational source, because it leads her to be unfair to him and reject his attempt to reform.

Fanny soon finds other, more valid, reasons for disliking Henry, in his behavior towards Maria and Julia. She, as the "quiet auditor of the whole" (115), notices how

Henry toys with Maria and Julia during the play. When the cast of Lovers' Vows is being chosen, Henry discovers that he cannot appease both girls. He attempts to restore himself to Julia's good opinion after choosing Maria for the role of Agatha, by telling her, "I could not stand your countenance dressed up in woe and paleness" (112-3). However, he accompanies this pleasant and courteous speech with "a glance at Maria which confirmed the injury to" Julia (113). He is trying, unsuccessfully, to play the girls against each other as he was able to at Sotherton. He brushes off Julia rather callously, causing her considerable pain. Fanny is the only one who notices how miserable Julia is and feels a great deal of pity, being herself familiar with the pains of jealousy.

Owing to Fanny's observations during the play and the trip to Sotherton, when Henry begins his attempt to make Fanny love him, she thinks "he was something like what he had been to her cousins: he wanted, she supposed, to cheat her of her tranquility as he had cheated them" (215). Unlike her cousins, she is prepared to resist his charms from the beginning, because she is familiar with their callous intent, but this is not the only reason she is able to maintain her dislike for Henry. Near the beginning of Henry's interest in Fanny, the narrator assures the reader,

that with so much tenderness of disposition, and much taste as belonged to [Fanny], she could [not] have escaped heart-whole from the courtship [. . .] of such a man as Crawford, in spite of there being some previous ill-opinion of him to be overcome, had not her affection been engaged elsewhere. (193)

Austen's narrator directly contradicts Fanny, who always maintains even to herself that she cannot like Henry because of his involvement with the Bertram girls. Fanny's resistance to Henry's change of disposition owes more to her love of Edmund and to her dislike begun during Mary's horse lessons than to any evidence of his bad character.

Fanny will not accept that Henry might become a man suitable to be her husband, just as she refuses to encourage Mary's attempts to change. When Henry asks Fanny for her opinion about the moral course of action in regards to a problem at his estate, she refuses to give him encouragement or assistance. He ponders whether it should be proper for him to go back to Everingham, rather than join his sister in London. However, when he asks Fanny directly for her advice, she refuses. Henry tries again, telling Fanny that her "judgment is [his] rule of right," and Fanny still fails to encourage Henry and instead gives him a proper and pious message that cannot help him: "We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be" (341). Fanny is well aware of Henry's impaired ability to judge morally because of his circumstances growing up in London with his uncle. Like Susan, Henry needs someone to give him advice and encouragement so he will learn to heed a better guide than selfish inclination. By refusing to say even a single word—yes—to encourage him, Fanny fails to take her chance at guiding him and is thus in, a very small way, partially responsible for his failure to go to Everingham instead of London. Her refusal has two causes: any open encouragement would have been an admission that he could change but also that a change is more genuine if it is chosen by oneself.

Even though Fanny continues to reject Henry as a suitor after his visit to Portsmouth, she does reveal some contradictions about herself in her reactions to it. When he first arrives, she feels that "the terrors that occurred of what this visit might lead to, were overpowering" (331). She is afraid that she will have to acknowledge his courtship, but Henry accepts her introduction of him as William's friend with perfect grace and does not press the issue of his relationship to her. As soon as she is more relaxed in his presence, Fanny begins to feel severe "shame for the home in which he found her" (332). Even though she has been trying to discourage him from liking her since he began his attentions, she would "rather put up with the misfortune of being sought by a clever, agreeable man, than have him driven away by the vulgarity of her nearest relations" (333). Even though Austen qualifies this by humorously stating that "there is hardly a young lady in the united kingdoms" who would not feel the same (333), this does indicate that Fanny is starting to feel some regard for Henry. People feel the need to impress another person only when there is some advantage in doing so.

Fanny's feelings about Henry waver between like and dislike several times during and following his trip to Portsmouth. One such instance is when Fanny starts thinking about her eventual return to Mansfield, which causes her to worry about her sister, Susan. When Fanny leaves, Susan will have no moral teacher and no one to finish the reform that Fanny has started. Fanny speculates that were

she likely to have a home to invite [Susan] to, what a blessing it would be!—And had it been possible for her to return Mr. Crawford's regard, the probability of his being very far from objecting to such a measure, would have been the greatest increase of all her own comforts. She thought he was really good-tempered, and could fancy his entering into a plan of that sort most pleasantly. (346)

At this point Fanny nearly talks herself into marrying Henry, if only for her sister's sake. She regrets her attachment to Edmund because it is inhibiting her ability to raise not only herself, but also her sister, into a better position. She also is beginning to recognize Henry's kindness and generosity instead of only focusing on his bad qualities. However, as long as her heart is guarded by her affection for Edmund, even Henry's probable willingness to accept Susan at their home cannot convince Fanny to marry him.

Henry does manage to prove to Fanny that his attentions are genuine and constant and she "began to feel the possibility of his turning out well at last, but he was and must ever be completely unsuited to her, and ought not to think of her" (336). Although she is able to take a morally superior stance with Henry, her insistence that he will always "be completely unsuited" is entirely due to her love for Edmund and the dislike Fanny placed on Henry from the very start. There is actually no action that Henry could have taken to win Fanny's regard or approval. All Henry could have done was wait until that which was guarding Fanny's heart—Edmund—was made perminently inaccessable. As the narrator informs us at the end of the novel: Fanny and Henry would have married after "a reasonable period from Edmund's marrying Mary" (385). In fact, Austen's narrator directly contradicts the heroine, who tells both Edmund and Sir Thomas that she is certain she will never love Henry.

This is not the only time that the narrator contradicts or makes fun of Fanny. At the beginning of the final chapter, the narrator states, Fanny "must have been a happy creature in spite of all that she felt or thought she felt, for the distress of those around her" (380, emphasis mine). There are a couple things going on here: Fanny still is not honest about her own feelings, even with herself, and her happiness, especially in regard to Edmund, is directly linked to what is making everyone else miserable. For Edmund Fanny "was sorry; but it was with a sorrow so founded on satisfaction, so tending to ease, and so much in harmony with every dearest sensation, that there are few who might not have been glad to exchange their greatest gaiety for it" (380). In truth, Fanny is delighted. Austen is making fun of Fanny for the contradictions inherent in her character. Fanny wants to be happy but knows she is expected to be sad. Her attempts to shape her emotions to match what she believes is proper lead her to be typically conflicted: happily sorry.