Persuasion

By Jane Austen

The protagonist of the novel is Anne Elliot, a 27-year-old woman who is intelligent, sensitive, and practical. Eight years prior to the events of the story, Anne was persuaded to break off her engagement to Captain Frederick Wentworth by her family and a family friend, Lady Russell. Despite her lingering love for Wentworth, Anne obediently followed their advice, and Wentworth, feeling rejected and hurt, left the area to pursue his naval career.

In the present day, circumstances bring Captain Wentworth back into Anne's life. He is now a successful and wealthy captain, and the two are forced to navigate their feelings for each other, complicated by the passage of time and societal expectations. Anne must also contend with her family's financial struggles and the challenges posed by her father and sisters.

The novel explores the consequences of rash decisions, the nature of true love, and the societal expectations that often influence personal choices. Austen's keen observations of human nature, wit, and irony are prevalent throughout "Persuasion," making it a classic work of English literature. The novel is celebrated for its depth of character development, social commentary, and the portrayal of a mature and reflective love story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mahdi Ahmed Riahi
• Release date: Mar 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224301423

Jane Austen

Jane Austen (1775–1817) was an English novelist whose work centred on social commentary and realism. Her works of romantic fiction are set among the landed gentry, and she is one of the most widely read writers in English literature.

Book preview

Persuasion

Jane Austen

Published by Mahdi Ahmed Riahi, 2024.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

PERSUASION

First edition. March 6, 2024.

Copyright © 2024 Jane Austen.

Written by Jane Austen.

Persuasion

By

Jane Austen

Contents

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CHAPTER 1.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

(End of volume one.)

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAPTER XXII.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER 1.

Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch Hall in Somersetshire was a man who, for his own entertainment, never delved into any literary work but the Baronetage. It provided him with both diversion during idle hours and solace in times of distress. Within its pages, his intellectual faculties were stirred to admiration and respect as he contemplated the limited remnant of the earliest patents. Any unwelcome sensations stemming from domestic affairs naturally transformed into feelings of pity and contempt as he perused the almost endless creations of the last century. In this cherished volume, even if every other leaf lacked potency, he could unfailingly read his own history with an enduring interest. The page at which the favored volume invariably opened was this:

Elliot of Kellynch Hall.

THE ORIGINAL PARAGRAPH from the printer's hands read as follows: Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester, by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, November 5, 1789; Mary, born November 20, 1791.

However, Sir Walter enhanced it by supplementing, for the benefit of himself and his family, these details after Mary's birth date: Married, December 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset, and meticulously including the specific day of the month on which he had lost his wife.

The narrative then unfolded the history and ascent of the ancient and esteemed family in customary terms: its initial settlement in Cheshire, citation in Dugdale, engagement as a high sheriff, representation of a borough in three successive parliaments, displays of loyalty, and attainment of baronetcy in the first year of Charles II. The account chronicled the numerous marriages to Marys and Elizabeths, spanning two elegant duodecimo pages and culminating with the heraldic arms and motto: Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county of Somerset. Sir Walter's distinctive handwriting adorned this final section:

Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great-grandson of the second Sir Walter.

Vanity was the alpha and omega of Sir Walter Elliot's character—vanity of person and position. In his youth, he had been remarkably handsome, and at the age of fifty-four, he remained a remarkably fine man. Few women were as preoccupied with their personal appearance as he was, and no valet of a newly ennobled lord could be more pleased with his place in society. Sir Walter regarded the blessing of beauty as second only to the blessing of a baronetcy, and the convergence of these attributes in Sir Walter Elliot made him the perennial focus of his own deepest respect and devotion.

Sir Walter Elliot's attachment to his good looks and social standing had a singular justification, as they were likely the factors that secured him a wife of exceptionally superior character, surpassing what might have been warranted by his own qualities. Lady Elliot had been an exemplary woman—sensible and amiable. While her initial decision to become Lady Elliot could be forgiven as youthful infatuation, her judgment and conduct never required leniency thereafter. For seventeen years, she had accommodated, softened, or discreetly concealed his shortcomings, contributing to the enhancement of his genuine respectability. Although not the happiest individual herself, Lady Elliot had discovered sufficient fulfillment in her responsibilities, her friendships, and her children, making life a matter of consequence to her when faced with the prospect of leaving them.

Bequeathing three daughters, with the two eldest aged sixteen and fourteen, was a weighty legacy for a mother. It posed a formidable responsibility to entrust to the authority and guidance of a conceited and foolish father. Yet, Lady Elliot found solace in a close and intimate friend—a sensible and deserving woman. This friend, drawn by a strong attachment, had settled in the village of Kellynch. Lady Elliot primarily relied on her friend's kindness and advice for the optimal support and cultivation of the good principles and instruction she had earnestly instilled in her daughters.

Despite expectations from their acquaintances, this friend and Sir Walter did not marry. Thirteen years had elapsed since Lady Elliot's passing, and they remained close neighbors and intimate friends, one a widower and the other a widow.

Lady Russell, characterized by her steadfast age and well-endowed circumstances, had no inclination for a second marriage. This needed no explanation to the public, which tended to be unreasonably discontented when a woman remarried rather than when she did not. Sir Walter's continuation in singleness, however, demanded clarification. It was known that Sir Walter, in the role of a devoted father, took pride in remaining single for the sake of his dear daughters. Despite facing a couple of private disappointments in impractical proposals, he held fast to his unmarried status. For his eldest daughter, Elizabeth, he would have willingly sacrificed anything, had he been strongly tempted to do so. Elizabeth, inheriting all possible rights and consequence from her mother at the age of sixteen, possessed remarkable beauty resembling her father. Their influence on each other had been substantial, and they had shared a harmonious existence. His other two children were considered of significantly lesser value. Mary had gained some artificial importance by marrying Charles Musgrove, but Anne, despite her elegance of mind and sweetness of character, held little sway with her father or sister. Her opinions carried little weight, and her convenience always gave way—she was simply Anne.

To Lady Russell, however, Anne was a dearly loved and highly valued goddaughter, favorite, and friend. Lady Russell cherished all of them, but it was only in Anne that she could envision the mother's spirit being rekindled.

A few years earlier, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her bloom had faded prematurely. Even at the height of her beauty, her father found little to admire, as her delicate features and mild dark eyes were starkly different from his own. With Anne now faded and thin, there was nothing to incite his esteem. He had never harbored much hope, and now he had none, of ever finding her name in another page of his favorite work. The prospect of an equal alliance rested solely with Elizabeth, as Mary had aligned herself with an old country family of respectability and substantial fortune, receiving no honor in return. Elizabeth, it was believed, would one day marry suitably.

It is not uncommon for a woman to appear more attractive at twenty-nine than she did ten years earlier. Generally, if there has been neither illness nor anxiety, this age marks a time when hardly any charm is lost. Such was the case with Elizabeth, still the same beautiful Miss Elliot she had become thirteen years ago. Sir Walter might be forgiven for forgetting her age, or at least deemed only partially foolish, for considering himself and Elizabeth as vibrant as ever amid the decline in the looks of everyone else. He could plainly observe the aging process in the rest of his family and acquaintances. Anne appeared haggard, Mary coarser, and every face in the neighborhood seemed to worsen. The noticeable increase in crow's feet around Lady Russell's temples had long been a source of distress for him.

Elizabeth did not quite match her father in personal contentment. Thirteen years had seen her as the mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing with self-possession and decisiveness that never hinted at her being younger than she was. For thirteen years, she had hosted and enforced domestic rules at home, led the way to the carriage and four, and walked immediately after Lady Russell through all the drawing rooms and dining rooms in the country. Thirteen winters of harsh frosts had witnessed her opening every ball of credit available in the limited neighborhood, and thirteen springs had displayed their blossoms as she traveled to London with her father for a few weeks of annual enjoyment in the great world. She had the memory of all this, and the awareness of being twenty-nine gave her some regrets and apprehensions. While she was fully convinced of still being as attractive as ever, she felt the approach of the years of danger and would have been pleased to be certain of being properly courted by a baronet within the next year or two. Then, she could take up the book of books again with as much enjoyment as in her early youth, but now she did not like it. Always being presented with the date of her own birth and seeing no marriage follow but that of a younger sister made the book an unwelcome reminder. More than once, when her father left it open on the table near her, she had closed it with averted eyes and pushed it away.

She had also faced a disappointment that the book, especially the history of her own family, would always bring to mind. The heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., whose rights had been generously supported by her father, had let her down. As a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be the future baronet in the event of her having no brother, she had intended to marry him, and her father had always meant for her to do so. Although he had not been known to them as a boy, Sir Walter sought his acquaintance soon after Lady Elliot's death. While Mr. Elliot's initial overtures were not met with warmth, he persevered in seeking their acquaintance, allowing for the modest drawing-back of youth. In one of their spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr. Elliot had been forced into an introduction.

At that time, Mr. Elliot was a very young man, just beginning his study of the law. Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favor was confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall, talked about, and expected throughout the year, but he never arrived. The following spring, he was seen again in town, equally agreeable, encouraged, invited, and expected once more, yet he did not show up. The next news was that he was married. Instead of pursuing his fortune as the heir of the house of Elliot, he had secured independence by marrying a wealthy woman of lower birth.

Sir Walter took offense at this. As the head of the house, he believed he should have been consulted, especially after publicly endorsing the young man. They must have been seen together, Sir Walter noted, once at Tattersall’s, and twice in the lobby of the House of Commons. His disapproval was expressed but seemingly little heeded. Mr. Elliot offered no apology and demonstrated no desire for further acknowledgment from the family. All acquaintance between them ceased.

This uncomfortable chapter in Mr. Elliot's history continued to be a source of anger for Elizabeth, who had appreciated the man for himself and even more for being her father's heir. Her strong family pride saw him as the proper match for Sir Walter Elliot's eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z whom she could have acknowledged as an equal more willingly. However, his conduct had been so disgraceful that even though she was wearing black ribbons for his late wife in the summer of 1814, she couldn't consider him worthy of further thought. The disgrace of his first marriage might have been overlooked, as there was no reason to believe it was perpetuated by offspring, but his disrespectful and contemptuous remarks about her family and the honors that were to be his own were unforgivable.

These were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations—the cares to alleviate, the agitations to diversify, the sameness and elegance, the prosperity and the emptiness of her life. Such were the feelings that added interest to her long, uneventful residence in one country circle, filling the voids where there were no habits of usefulness abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home.

Now, another concern and preoccupation were starting to occupy her mind. Her father was facing financial distress. She knew that when he turned to the Baronetage now, it was to distract himself from the heavy bills of his tradespeople and the unwelcome hints from Mr. Shepherd, his agent. The Kellynch property was good, but it didn't meet Sir Walter's expectations for the required state of its possessor. While Lady Elliot was alive, there had been method, moderation, and economy that had kept him just within his income. However, with her passing, all such prudence had disappeared, and he had consistently exceeded his income. Though blameless in his actions, he found himself not only growing dreadfully in debt but also hearing about it so frequently that it became futile to attempt concealing it any longer, even partially, from his daughter.

He had given her some hints about it the previous spring in town, going so far as to ask, Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench? To her credit, Elizabeth, in the initial fervor of female concern, earnestly considered what could be done. She proposed two branches of economy—cutting off some unnecessary charities and refraining from new furnishings for the drawing-room. Later, she added the idea of not taking a present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom. However, these measures, while good in themselves, proved insufficient for the true extent of the problem, which Sir Walter found himself compelled to confess to her soon afterward. Elizabeth had nothing more effective to suggest. She felt ill-used and unfortunate, as did her father, and neither could devise any means to reduce expenses without compromising their dignity or giving up comforts in a way they couldn't bear.

There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of, but even if every acre were alienable, it would have made no difference. He had consented to mortgage as much as he had the power, but selling was out of the question. No, he would never disgrace his name to that extent. The Kellynch estate would be passed down whole and entire, just as he had received it.

Their two trusted friends, Mr. Shepherd, who lived in the nearby market town, and Lady Russell, were consulted for advice. Both father and daughter hoped that one of them would come up with a solution to relieve their financial troubles and reduce their expenditures without sacrificing any of their tastes or pride.

CHAPTER II.

Mr. Shepherd, a civil and prudent lawyer, cautious about expressing any disagreeable suggestions directly to Sir Walter, excused himself from offering the slightest hint. Instead, he requested permission to recommend an implicit reference to the excellent judgment of Lady Russell. He fully expected that her well-known good sense would result in the adoption of the resolute measures he intended to see implemented.

Lady Russell approached the matter with great zeal and serious consideration. She was a woman of sound rather than quick abilities, facing significant difficulties in reaching a decision due to the clash of two guiding principles. While she possessed strict integrity and a delicate sense of honor, she was equally eager to spare Sir Walter's feelings and concerned for the family's reputation. Her ideas about what was due to them were as aristocratic as anyone of sense and honesty could be. Lady Russell, a benevolent and charitable woman with strong attachments, upheld strict notions of decorum and manners considered a standard of good breeding. She had a cultivated mind and, in general, was rational and consistent. However, her prejudices leaned toward ancestry, and she placed a value on rank and consequence that occasionally blinded her to the faults of those who possessed them.

Despite being the widow of only a knight, she afforded the dignity of a baronet its due respect. Sir Walter, in her eyes, was not only an old acquaintance, attentive neighbor, obliging landlord, and the husband of her dear friend, but also the father of Anne and her sisters. As Sir Walter, he was, in her apprehension, entitled to a great deal of compassion and consideration given his present difficulties.

Recognizing the imperative need for retrenchment, Lady Russell was determined to have it done with the least possible pain for both Sir Walter and Elizabeth. She meticulously drafted plans of economy, made precise calculations, and did something no one else had considered: she consulted Anne, who was often overlooked by the others when it came to matters of interest. Anne not only provided input but also influenced the scheme of retrenchment ultimately presented to Sir Walter. Every amendment suggested by Anne favored honesty over importance. She advocated for more vigorous measures, a comprehensive reformation, a swifter escape from debt, and a much higher emphasis on justice and equity over other considerations.

If we can persuade your father to agree to all this, Lady Russell remarked, reviewing her paper, much can be accomplished. If he adopts these regulations, in seven years, he can be in the clear. I hope we can convince him and Elizabeth that Kellynch Hall possesses a respectability in itself that cannot be affected by these reductions. The true dignity of Sir Walter Elliot will, in fact, be far from diminished in the eyes of sensible people by acting like a man of principle. What he'll be doing is no different from what many of our first families have done or should do. There will be nothing unique in his case, and it is singularity that often exacerbates the worst part of our suffering, as it always does in our conduct. I am optimistic about prevailing. We must be serious and resolute because, after all, the person who has contracted debts must pay them. While much consideration is due to the feelings of a gentleman and the head of a house, like your father, even more is owed to the character of an honest man.

This was the principle on which Anne wished her father to proceed, and her friends to urge him. She saw it as an indispensable duty to swiftly settle the claims of creditors through the most comprehensive retrenchments possible, finding no dignity in anything less. Anne wanted this course of action to be mandated and felt a sense of duty towards it. She held Lady Russell's influence in high regard, and, regarding the severe degree of self-denial prompted by her own conscience, believed there might be little more difficulty in persuading them to a complete reformation than to a partial one. Anne's understanding of her father and Elizabeth led her to believe that sacrificing one pair of horses would be scarcely less painful than giving up both, and so on, through the entirety of Lady Russell's perhaps too gentle reductions.

The more stringent requirements that Anne proposed might have been of little consequence, as Lady Russell's suggestions had no success at all—they could not be tolerated, they were unbearable. The idea of giving up every comfort in life, including journeys, London, servants, horses, and a well-appointed table, with contractions and restrictions everywhere, was met with strong opposition. Sir Walter declared, To live no longer with the decencies even of a private gentleman! No, he would sooner quit Kellynch Hall at once than remain on such disgraceful terms.

The notion of quitting Kellynch Hall was immediately seized upon by Mr. Shepherd, whose interest was tied to the reality of Sir Walter's retrenching. He was convinced that nothing would be done without a change of abode. Mr. Shepherd openly confessed his judgment to be entirely on the side of leaving Kellynch Hall. He believed that Sir Walter could not significantly alter his style of living in a house with such a character of hospitality and ancient dignity to uphold. In any other place, Sir Walter could judge for himself and would be looked up to as the authority on regulating the modes of life in whatever way he chose to model his household.

The decision was made—Sir Walter would quit Kellynch Hall. After a few more days of doubt and indecision, the great question of where he should go was settled, and the initial plan for this significant change was drawn up.

There were three options: London, Bath, or another house in the country. Anne had hoped for the latter—a small house in their own neighborhood, where they could still enjoy Lady Russell's society, be close to Mary, and occasionally delight in the sights of Kellynch's lawns and groves. However, Anne's usual fate prevailed, and something very opposite to her inclination was decided upon. She disliked Bath and did not think it agreed with her, yet Bath was to become her home.

Sir Walter initially leaned towards London, but Mr. Shepherd, recognizing that he could not be trusted in London, skillfully dissuaded him and advocated for Bath instead. Bath was considered a much safer place for a gentleman in Sir Walter's predicament, where he could maintain importance at comparatively little expense. Two significant advantages of Bath over London played a crucial role: its more convenient distance from Kellynch, only fifty miles away, and Lady Russell's habit of spending part of every winter there. To the great satisfaction of Lady Russell, who had initially favored Bath, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were convinced that settling there would not result in a loss of consequence or enjoyment.

Lady Russell felt obligated to oppose her dear Anne's known wishes. It would be too much to expect Sir Walter to move into a small house in his own neighborhood. Anne herself would likely have encountered more mortifications than she foresaw, and for Sir Walter's feelings, it would have been dreadful. Regarding Anne's aversion to Bath, Lady Russell considered it a prejudice and a mistake. The dislike stemmed, first, from Anne spending three years at school there after her mother's death and, second, from her not being in perfectly good spirits during the only winter she had later spent there with Lady Russell.

In short, Lady Russell was fond of Bath and inclined to believe that it must suit them all. She thought that spending the warm months with Anne at Kellynch Lodge would avoid any health concerns, and this change would, in fact, benefit both health and spirits. Anne had been too confined to home, too little seen, and her spirits were not high. Being part of a larger society would likely improve them, and Lady Russell wanted her to be more widely known.

The undesirability of any other house in the same neighborhood for Sir Walter was certainly strengthened by one particularly significant aspect of the plan, which had been successfully incorporated from the beginning. Not only was Sir Walter to leave his home, but he would also see it in the hands of others—a trial of fortitude that even stronger heads than Sir Walter's have found challenging. Kellynch Hall was to be let, though this was to remain a profound secret, not to be shared beyond their own circle.

Sir Walter could not bear the thought of being known to contemplate letting his house. Mr. Shepherd had once suggested the word advertise, but never dared approach the topic again. Sir Walter rejected the idea of any offer in any manner, forbidding the slightest hint of such an intention. It was only on the assumption that he was spontaneously solicited by an exceptionally suitable applicant on his own terms, and as a great favor, that he would consider letting it at all.

How quickly reasons come to justify what we like! Lady Russell had another excellent reason for being extremely pleased that Sir Walter and his family were to move from the country. Elizabeth had recently formed an intimacy that Lady Russell wished to see interrupted. It was with the daughter of Mr. Shepherd, who had returned, after an unsuccessful marriage, to her father's house, burdened with two children. She was a clever young woman, well-versed in the art of pleasing—at least, the art of pleasing at Kellynch Hall. She had made herself so agreeable to Miss Elliot that she had already stayed there more than once, despite all of Lady Russell's hints of caution and reserve.

Lady Russell had little influence with Elizabeth and seemed to love her more because she wanted to love her than because Elizabeth deserved it. She had never received more than outward attention from Elizabeth, nothing beyond the observances of politeness. She had never succeeded in any point she wanted to carry against Elizabeth's previous inclination. Lady Russell had earnestly tried to include Anne in the visit to London, fully aware of the injustice and discredit of the selfish arrangements that excluded her. On many occasions, she had attempted to offer Elizabeth the advantage of her own better judgment and experience, but always in vain. Elizabeth would go her own way, and never had she pursued it in more decided opposition to Lady Russell than in choosing Mrs. Clay over the society of her deserving sister. Elizabeth turned her affection and confidence away from a worthy sister to someone who should have been nothing more than the object of distant civility.

From Lady Russell's perspective, Mrs. Clay was an unsuitable companion both in situation and character, and a removal that left Mrs. Clay behind, providing a choice of more suitable friends within Miss Elliot's reach,