Darcy's letter
Darcy's letter is the structural and psychological hinge of Pride and Prejudice, the document that shatters Elizabeth Bennet's complacent self-regard and forces her to reconstruct her understanding of two men from the ground up. Delivered in the grove at Rosings the morning after his disastrous first proposal, the letter is not a renewal of his suit but a defensive explanation of his conduct regarding Jane Bennet and George Wickham. Its effect on Elizabeth is immediate and transformative: she passes from indignation through doubt to a humiliating recognition of her own blindness, and the letter's revelations set in motion the entire second half of the novel's emotional arc.
Composition and Delivery
The letter is written at eight o'clock in the morning at Rosings, on two sheets of letter-paper written quite through in a very close hand, with the envelope itself also full. Darcy, having walked in the grove some time in the hope of meeting Elizabeth, hands it to her with a look of haughty composure and a slight bow, then immediately turns back into the plantation and disappears. The letter opens with an explicit disclaimer: it contains no repetition of the sentiments or offers that were so disgusting to her the night before. Darcy writes, he says, because his character requires it to be written and read, and he demands her attention not for his own sake but for the sake of justice. He acknowledges that the effort of composing and perusing the letter must occasion pain, but insists that the necessity must be obeyed.
Defense Regarding Bingley and Jane
The first and shorter part of the letter addresses Darcy's role in separating Bingley from Jane. Darcy states that he observed Bingley's partiality for Jane from the evening of the Netherfield ball, when Sir William Lucas's accidental information first made him aware that Bingley's attentions had given rise to a general expectation of marriage. He watched Jane's behavior closely and concluded that, though she received Bingley's attentions with pleasure, she showed no symptom of peculiar regard—her countenance and air were serene, her heart not likely to be easily touched. Darcy admits he was desirous of believing her indifferent, but insists he believed it on impartial conviction. He then enumerates the other objections to the match: the want of connection, and more importantly, the total want of propriety betrayed by Mrs. Bennet, the three younger sisters, and occasionally even Mr. Bennet. He notes that Elizabeth and Jane themselves escaped this censure. He explains that he joined Bingley's sisters in London, pointed out the certain evils of such a choice, and seconded his remonstrance with the assurance of Jane's indifference—an assurance that, given Bingley's natural modesty and strong dependence on Darcy's judgment, was sufficient to persuade him against returning to Hertfordshire. Darcy confesses one act he does not reflect on with satisfaction: he concealed from Bingley that Jane was in London, though he knew it himself. He justifies this concealment as done for the best, since Bingley's regard did not appear sufficiently extinguished for him to see her without danger.
Defense Regarding Wickham
The second and far more detailed part of the letter refutes the accusation that Darcy ruined Wickham's prospects. Darcy traces the whole history of his connection with Wickham. Wickham is the son of a respectable man who managed the Pemberley estates for many years; the late Mr. Darcy supported Wickham at school and at Cambridge, and intended to provide for him in the church. Darcy himself, however, had long known Wickham's true character—his vicious propensities and want of principle, which he was careful to conceal from his best friend. After the late Mr. Darcy's death, Wickham wrote to Darcy informing him that he had finally resolved against taking orders, and requested some more immediate pecuniary advantage in lieu of the living. Darcy, who already believed Wickham ought not to be a clergyman, accepted the proposal: Wickham resigned all claim to assistance in the church and accepted three thousand pounds in return. For about three years Darcy heard little of him, during which time Wickham's life was one of idleness and dissipation, his study of law a mere pretence. When the living fell vacant, Wickham applied again for the presentation, claiming his circumstances were exceedingly bad. Darcy refused. Wickham's resentment was violent, and he abused Darcy to others. The letter then reveals a still more serious matter: last summer, Wickham pursued Georgiana Darcy to Ramsgate, where she had gone with her governess Mrs. Younge, who proved to be in collusion with him. By Mrs. Younge's connivance and aid, Wickham recommended himself so well to the fifteen-year-old Georgiana that she was persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement. Darcy joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, and Georgiana, unable to bear the thought of grieving a brother she looked up to as a father, confessed the whole. Darcy wrote to Wickham, who left immediately, and Mrs. Younge was removed from her charge. Wickham's chief object was Georgiana's fortune of thirty thousand pounds, but Darcy believes the hope of revenge on himself was a strong inducement. Darcy concludes by appealing to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who as one of the executors of his father's will is acquainted with every particular of these transactions, and whom Elizabeth may consult if she doubts Darcy's assertions.
Elizabeth's Reception and Re-evaluation
Elizabeth reads the letter with a contrariety of emotion scarcely to be defined. At first, with a strong prejudice against everything Darcy might say, she resolves his account of Jane's insensibility to be false and is too angry to wish him justice. But when she reaches the account of Wickham, her feelings become more acutely painful. She wishes to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming that it must be false, but she cannot. She reads and re-reads the particulars of Wickham's resigning the living for three thousand pounds, and is forced to hesitate. She recalls that she had never heard of Wickham before his entrance into the militia, that his countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue, and that she can remember no more substantial good of him than the general approbation of the neighbourhood. The story of his designs on Miss Darcy receives confirmation from what Colonel Fitzwilliam had told her only the morning before. She remembers that Wickham had boasted of having no fear of seeing Darcy, yet avoided the Netherfield ball; that he had told his story to no one but herself until the Netherfield family had left the country, and then had no reserves in sinking Darcy's character, despite having assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son. She grows absolutely ashamed of herself. "How despicably I have acted!" she cries. "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! I, who have valued myself on my abilities! ... Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself." She re-reads Darcy's explanation regarding Jane and finds its effect now widely different; she cannot deny the justice of his description of Jane's composure, nor the justice of his mortifying but merited reproach of her family. The compliment to herself and Jane soothes but cannot console her for the contempt self-attracted by the rest of her family.
Aftermath and Significance
Elizabeth studies every sentence of the letter for days afterward, and her feelings toward its writer are at times widely different. When she remembers the style of his address, she is still full of indignation; but when she considers how unjustly she condemned him, her anger turns against herself, and his disappointed feelings become the object of compassion. His attachment excites gratitude, his general character respect. She carries the letter with her in her mind throughout the subsequent events of the novel. When she visits Pemberley and hears the housekeeper's warm praise of Darcy as the best landlord and the best master, she thinks of the letter and finds its account confirmed. When she learns of Darcy's role in securing Lydia's marriage, she understands that the letter's revelation of his character was not a momentary self-defense but a true portrait of a man capable of extraordinary generosity. The letter is eventually burnt at Darcy's request, but only after Elizabeth has internalized its lessons so thoroughly that its physical destruction cannot undo its work. It remains the document that taught her to know herself, and to know him.
