Practicing for Virtue

Part three of a four-part series on Jane Austen, virtue, and friendship

This is part three in my four part series on Jane Austen, virtue, and friendship. Part one on how Jane Austen taught virtue can be found here, part two on her conditions for friendship can be found here, and part three will be released in a couple weeks.

How does one cultivate virtue? 

For Austen, virtue is cultivated through practice. How do we know which of her characters practice virtue? Austen will frequently signal where a character is in his or her moral development by showing us their relationship to music. Characters who play well do so because they have practiced, and this hints that they have also practiced virtue. Characters who have neglected practicing music have likely also neglected practicing in order to make it a habit. But there is more to this than a one-to-one correspondence between skill and virtue. We learn a lot about the deficient character of those who play well but for with the wrong spirit.

Some characters play extremely well because they were diligent in their practice (Jane Fairfax). Others play technically well, but their performances are pedantic, lacking grace, style, and taste (Mary Bennett in Pride and Prejudice). The always unselfish Anne Eliot shares her musical skill with the community so that the younger adults can have a dance. Marianne Dashwood is skilled, but her piano playing is all for herself; it is an escape from unwanted company, a way to revel in whatever emotions she feels at the moment.

Many characters fancy themselves musical aficionados even though they have no skill, most notably Lady Catherine De Bourgh who famously says, “There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient.” (Pride and Prejudice, II.viii) 

In a famous scene from Pride and Prejudice in which Elizabeth plays the piano while conversing with Mr. Darcy and his cousin, Mr. Darcy tries to defend himself from Elizabeth’s rebuke of his lack of social graces:

“I certainly have not the talent which some people possess,” said Darcy, “of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.” 

“My fingers,” said Elizabeth, “do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women’s do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault–because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman’s of superior education.” (Pride and Prejudice, II.viii)) 

Darcy lacks the virtue of amiability. Even though he possesses many good virtues–as the rest of Pride and Prejudice shows—he has not taken the time to practice amiability, the social ability to recommend himself to others, and to please in a social setting. Amanda Marie Kubic says in her article, “Aristotelian Ethical Ideas in the Novels of Jane Austen”, “Elizabeth’s solution invokes Aristotle’s discussion of study, habit, and practice as it pertains to the process of learning the virtues.”

Likewise, Emma’s relationship with the piano shows us that Austen understands virtue as something that must be diligently cultivated over time. Emma must go through many social trials before she sees that, just as her musical laxness results in a lack of musical skill, her refusal to be diligent to practice charity has resulted in a lack of charity.

We find out from Mr. Knightly early on that Emma “will never submit to anything requiring industry and patience, and a subjection of the fancy to the understanding.” (Emma, I.v) Sure enough, when called upon to play at a party at Randalls, Emma plays it safe, knowing that she has not practiced enough to be proficient.

 “She knew the limitations of her own powers too well to attempt more than she could perform with credit…” (Emma, II.8) Emma has a level of self-knowledge regarding her musical talent that she does not possess regarding her virtue, as we will see later. 

The next person to play at Randalls is Frank Churchill. He insinuates himself into Emma’s solo, showing off his delightful singing voice and skill. Frank Churchill has practiced and is a skillful musician, but as we see through the eyes of Mr. Knightley, Mr. Churchill plays primarily to indulge his own vanity. Mr. Knightley says, “He thinks nothing but showing off his own voice.” (Emma, II.8) Churchill is self-important, vain, and views others as primarily existing to see and praise him. 

Jane Fairfax is a far superior performer to Emma. Emma’s experience of watching Jane Fairfax play the piano is a kind of periodic spiritual conviction. Although Emma is blind to most of her faults, particularly her own spiritual blindness, she does have real taste. She can clearly see when something is beautifully and skillfully executed, and she cannot lie to herself and deny that Jane Fairfax is a far superior piano player and singer. This goads Emma into an enthusiastic, if short-lived burst of energy towards self-improvement. After the party at Randalls, “She did most heartily grieve over the idleness of her childhood–and sat down and practiced vigorously an hour and a half.” (Emma, II.ix)

Jane’s skill on the piano is all the more remarkable because she doesn’t actually have a piano of her own (which, if you know the story, is the setup for an important plot point); meanwhile Emma has a piano sitting empty and unplayed in her great house. Emma has been given much but has little to show for it. Jane is rootless, family-less, and penniless, but has deployed the little she received to become an excellent musician.

Austen has no sympathy for characters who squander what they’ve been given by refusing to practice the virtues. Emma is behind in her moral development because she will not practice.

As the great lady of Highbury, Emma visits the poor, bringing them food and caring for them while they are sick. She also pays regular visits to Mrs. and Miss Bates, and sends them cuts of meat and other necessary items. But despite these good acts, she rushes through them and performs them without any affection or true goodwill toward others. She only spends time with the Bateses because she knows it is expected. She dreads her visit and leaves as soon as she can. She also mocks Miss Bates to Mrs. Weston. As we have already seen, Mrs. Weston cannot rebuke Emma and says, “Do not make me laugh”, when she should say, as Mr. Knightley will later say, “badly done, Emma.” Perhaps if Mrs. Weston had had the courage to tell Emma the truth about her callous attitude toward Miss Bates, Emma would not have reached a point of hard-heartedness where she publicly mocked Miss Bates, necessitating Mr. Knightley’s harsh rebuke. 

Emma would much rather ignore those who are more virtuous or accomplished than receive the lesson and be convicted by their example into hard work. She would rather cultivate a circle of flatterers than a circle of true friends who can tell her the truth. She needs the goading influence of men and women who are more accomplished and more virtuous than she to motivate her to build her own virtue. 

Envy and charity have little to do with each other. Instead of receiving the rebuke of Jane’s superiority, she pushes her away. And instead of being willing to hear Mr. Knightley tell her the painful truth, she laughs away his advice for most of the novel.

Those who do not practice charity do not possess it; those who lack charity cannot enter into true friendship. Emma’s lack of true friends is the direct result of her lack of charity, and her lack of charity is the direct result of her refusal to practice charity, and to build it as a habit.