Let me state from the beginning that the superficial characters in Pride and Prejudice are those who lack introspection and self-examination and therefore fail to overcome their defects. These characters – often comical and farcical and even tragic – lead highly external lives and avoid self-introspection (think of Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Collins). These characters lack growth in virtue because they desire not to examine and correct their faults.

“Give us grace, Almighty Father, so to pray, as to deserve to be heard, to address thee with our hearts, as with our lips. Thou art every where present, from thee no secret can be hid. May the knowledge of this, teach us to fix our thoughts on thee, with reverence and devotion that we pray not in vain.

Look with mercy on the sins we have this day committed, and in mercy make us feel them deeply, that our repentance may be sincere, & our resolutions steadfast of endeavouring against the commission of such in future. Teach us to understand the sinfulness of our own hearts, and bring to our knowledge every fault of temper and every evil habit in which we have indulged to the discomfort of our fellow-creatures, and the danger of our own souls. *** Oh! God…save us from deceiving ourselves by pride or vanity.”

Finally, Professor Stovel of The University of Alberta informs us that Jane Austen admired the sermons of Bishop Thomas Sherlock, as seen from a letter she wrote which is quite revealing:

“On the other hand, Jane Austen admired the tough-minded sermons preached by Thomas Sherlock, Bishop of London, to an audience of lawyers at the Temple Church: ‘I am very fond of Sherlock’s Sermons, prefer them to almost any’ (Letters, 406).  One of Sherlock’s sermons, for example, takes as its text Psalms 19, verse 12: ‘Who can understand his errors?  Cleanse thou me from secret faults’; Sherlock explains that the deadliest faults are those secret ones that result from self-ignorance, habit, or simply a failure to reflect about the consequences to others of one’s own actions, and he points out that the general petitions of The Book of Common Prayer cover just such faults (142-65).”

Pride and Prejudice – from a spiritual perspective – highlights this process of the purgation of our hidden and secret faults through self-examination, painful humiliations and confession – all leading to a truer knowledge of self and to growth in moral goodness, and ultimately to a deeper capacity to love. Here is Elizabeth’s confession:

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. — Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

“How despicably have I acted!” she cried. — “I, who have prided myself on my discernment! — I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust. — How humiliating is this discovery! — Yet, how just a humiliation! — Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. — 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.” (Chapter 36)

And here is Darcy’s confession:

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I owe you! You taught me a lesson hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.(Chapter 58)

From the point of view of Christian spirituality, growth in self-knowledge through the identification and correction of one’s faults (often hidden by self-deception) is one of the most important steps in the spiritual journey. St. Teresa of Avila, for example, explains how important it is to spend time in the “cell of self-knowledge” in order to grow in holiness. And another great spiritual writer says: “No wonder that reliable self-knowledge is rare, when so few take pains to acquire it. And the person we are most interested to deceive is self. If we are earnest in undeceiving ourselves, we must be taking real pains to acquire self-knowledge. All supernatural principles and all religious manliness are based on genuine, reliable self-knowledge. Give that conclusion leave to do its work in your soul, and you will see what a change it will bring about!” (F.W. Faber, Spiritual Conferences, as edited). And in that great devotional classic, The Imitation of Christ, esteemed by Catholics and Protestants alike, we find this admonition: “Turn thine eyes back upon thyself…. In judging others, a man labors in vain, often errs, and easily sins; but in judging and looking into himself, he always labors with fruit.” This idea deserves to be explored further from the specific point of view of Anglican spirituality. But simply put, this acquisition of self-knowledge is necessary because of our secret attachments to false ways of seeing things that nurture our pride, our self-love, and prejudice.

What an enormous change genuine self-knowledge brought about in the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy! Humility is a foundational virtue in Christianity that counteracts pride (“God exalts the humble”), and it is humility that softened the hearts of Elizabeth and Darcy and made them more capable of realizing their profound love for each other. Moreover, the confession of one’s faults is a quasi-religious act closely associated with Christianity. As Julie Rattey observes in an essay on Jane Austen’s literary spirituality, “The famous conversation between Darcy and Elizabeth near the end of Pride and Prejudice…is as much a confession of sins as it is a profession of love.” In short, who can fail to see the themes of repentance and redemption in Elizabeth’s and Darcy’s mutual confessions? And often overlooked is Darcy’s prayer for God’s blessings upon Elizabeth at the most crucial moment in the novel, there at the very end of Darcy’s letter to Elizabeth, the one he wrote to her after her rejection of his marriage proposal.

Relying on C.S. Lewis’ “A Note on Jane Austen,” and the multiple examples given therein, the celebrated Scottish philosopher, Alasdair MacIntyre, makes this observation: “The counterpart to Jane Austen’s preoccupation with the counterfeit is the central place she assigns to self-knowledge, a Christian rather than a Socratic self-knowledge which can only be achieved through a kind of repentance.” And the esteemed literary critic, Harold Bloom, states: “Though [Austen’s] world is essentially a secularized culture, the moral vision dominating it remains that of the Protestant sensibility.”

As a final point, Jane Austen specifically highlights Elizabeth’s exceptional growth in holiness at the very end of the novel. In the second to last paragraph of the final chapter we read that Lady Catherine, “extremely indignant” of Darcy’s marriage, sent a letter to Darcy that was “very abusive” of Elizabeth. But we read, amazingly, that Elizabeth prevailed upon Darcy “to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation,” until finally Lady Catherine’s “resentment gave way.” This is the happy ending to Pride and Prejudice, an act of profound Christian charity by Elizabeth, giving rise to greater well-being in the community. How much good would we do in our own lives if we didn’t cling so tightly to the injustice of having been offended and chose instead – like Elizabeth –  to overlook the offense? There is a lesson here of profound spiritual importance.