In the 18th century, Britain’s social and political landscape revolved around class. The upper classes, or nobility, wielded significant social and political power, while the middle and lower classes had little political representation or social clout. And while middle- and lower-class people often aspired to join the ranks of the upper crust, Burney suggests in Evelina that social mobility simply isn’t an option for them, and those who try to force their way in with the elite appear only as petty social climbers. In other words, in this society, it is impossible to transition into the upper classes; one must be born into them, because nobility is something that is inherited, along with family money and prestigious titles, rather than something that is earned. Beyond arguing that people simply can’t transcend their class, Burney also makes the case that people shouldn’t try to catapult themselves into nobility, because being noble doesn’t necessarily mean being good. Instead, middle- and lower-class people should aspire to be noble in their own way—that is, humble and virtuous—while accepting their place in the social hierarchy.
The fashionable London world that Evelina enters in the novel revolves around class and does not allow for social mobility. While in London, Evelina meets her cousins, the Branghtons, a family of middle-class shopkeepers who have grown moderately wealthy through their trade. However, although the Branghtons can afford a lifestyle similar to upper-class people, they cannot truly join or even mingle with the nobility because they were not born into this class. When the Branghtons try to transcend their class and fit in with the nobility, they make themselves look ridiculous. Although they will never be accepted, they try to fool themselves and others into thinking this is possible. This is particularly apparent when the Branghtons take Evelina to the theater. Although they want to sit with the upper-class clientele, they lack the know-how to actually do so (they don’t know the entry prices and go to the wrong door) and, in their confusion, they end up sitting in the gallery with the other poor and middle-class people. Like the theater—where the seating is split up according to class—certain parts of this society are inaccessible to middle-class people, even if they technically have the means to pay their way in.
Furthermore, Burney suggests that despite their enviable social status, people in the nobility are often unpleasant and immoral, which is all the more reason why lower- and middle-class people shouldn’t aspire to join their ranks. One such example of this is Sir John Belmont, Evelina’s father, who is from a prodigious family. Although he later regrets his behavior, Sir John is extremely cruel and thoughtless in his treatment of Evelina’s mother, Caroline, underscoring the idea that wealth and status do not always align with morality. Noble characters also tend to be arrogant and vain, like Mr. Lovel, who only attends the theater to be seen in public so that people will notice and talk about him. Mr. Lovel doesn’t even know which play is being performed when Evelina encounters him at a performance. Burney uses Mr. Lovel to satirize the ridiculous pretensions and vanity of the upper-classes: the British nobility, although revered, are often shallow and vapid. Furthermore, Burney suggests that the British nobility’s social circle is petty and insular, using Captain Mirvan, who mercilessly mocks the fashionable people he encounters, as a mouthpiece to make this argument. Captain Mirvan is no saint himself (he’s extremely unpleasant and prejudiced), but the fact that he has traveled beyond England gives him the perspective to see the pettiness and triviality of the British nobility’s concerns. Once again, Burney makes the point that social ascension, although highly coveted, is, often, not worth striving for.
Burney ultimately suggests that, although birth is an indicator of class in the 18th century, it is not necessarily an indicator of goodness, which can exist in all walks of life. Although Evelina is technically of noble birth (her estranged father is a nobleman), she has been raised among the middle class. But unlike the Branghtons, who feel that their tenuous links to the nobility entitle them to transcend their status, Evelina is happy with her lot in life and does not seek to use her father’s noble heritage to her own advantage. Instead, she is humble and grateful for the advantages she does have—like her loving, adopted father, Mr. Villars—and this attitude brings her love and respect in return. By casting Evelina in a favorable light, the novel implies that it is better to be humble and content with one’s place than to constantly look elsewhere for something better. Similarly, poor characters, like the Scottish poet Mr. Macartney, are honorable and virtuous despite their lowly status, adding additional weight to the idea that kindness and humility are traits that transcend class. Although Evelina eventually claims her rightful place among the nobility (her father recognizes her as his heir) at the novel’s conclusion, Burney insists that it is Evelina’s goodness, virtue, and kindness toward others that is truly worth emulating. Her ascent up the social ladder isn’t relevant to who she is, since class is simply an arbitrary matter of birth and does not signify moral character.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Inheritance, Class, and Nobility ThemeTracker
Inheritance, Class, and Nobility Quotes in Evelina: or, The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World
She flew to me for protection. With what mixed transports of joy and anguish did I again see her! By my advice she endeavored to produce proofs of her marriage;—but in vain: her credulity had been no match for his art.
Destined, in all probability, to possess a very moderate fortune, I wished to contract her views to something within it. The mind is but too naturally prone to pleasure, but too easily yielded to dissipation: it has been my study to guard her against their delusions, by preparing her to expect, —and to despise them. But the time draws on for experience and observation to take place of instruction: if I have, in some measure, rendered her capable of using one with discretion, and making the other with improvement, I shall rejoice myself with the assurance of having largely contributed to her welfare.
You have no reason to regret the retirement in which she has lived; since that politeness which is acquired by an acquaintance with high life, is in her so well supplied by a natural desire of obliging, joined to a deportment infinitely engaging.
The gentlemen, as they passed and repassed, looked as if they thought we were quite at their disposal, and only waiting for the honor of their commands; and they sauntered about, in a careless indolent manner, as if with a view to keep us in suspense.
But falsehood is not more unjustifiable than unsafe.
The more forcibly you are struck with improprieties and misconduct in another, the greater should be your observance and diligence to avoid even the shadow of similar error.
"So I did presume. Doubtless, Madame, everything must be infinitely novel to you. Our customs, our manners, and les etiquettes de nous autres, can have very little resemblance to those you have been used to. I imagine, Ma'am, your retirement is at no very small distance from the capital?"
He addressed us with his usual ease, and joined us for the whole evening. I felt myself very uneasy in his presence; for I could not look at him, nor hear him speak, without recollecting the chariot adventure; but to my great amazement, I observed that he looked at ne without the least apparent discomposure, though certainly he ought not to think of his behavior without blushing.
Lordship!—how extraordinary! that a nobleman, accustomed, in all probability, to the first rank of company in the kingdom, from his earliest infancy, can possibly be deficient in good manners, however faulty in morals and principles!
Alas, my child, the artlessness of your nature, and the simplicity of your education, alike unfit you for the thorny paths of the great and busy world. The supposed obscurity of your birth and situation, makes you liable to a thousand disagreeable adventures. Not only my views, but any hopes for your future life, have ever centered in the country.
To follow the dictates of my own heart, I should instantly recall you to myself, and never more consent to your being separated from me; but the manners and opinion of the world demand a different conduct.
You will have occasion, in the course of the month you are to pass with Madame Duval, for all the circumspection and prudence you can call to your aid: she will not, I know, propose any thing to you which she thinks wrong herself; but you must learn not only to judge but to act for yourself if any schemes are started, any engagements made, which your understanding represents to you as improper, exert yourself resolutely in avoiding them, and do not, by a too passive facility, risk the censure of the world, or your own future regret.
Indeed, to me, London now seems a desert; that gay and busy appearance it so lately wore, is now succeeded by a look of gloom, fatigue, and lassitude; the air seems stagnant, the heat is intense, the dust intolerable, and the inhabitants illiterate and under-bred.
It is true, no man can possibly pay me greater compliments, or make more fine speeches, than Sir Clement Willoughby, yet his language, though too flowery, is always that of a gentleman, and his address and manners are so very superior to those of the inhabitants of this house, that to make any comparison between him and Mr. Smith would be extremely unjust.
“O Sir, you're vastly polite, all of a sudden! but I know what it's all for;—it's only for what you can get!—you could treat me like nobody at Howard Grove—but now you see I've a house of my own you've a mind to wheedle yourself into it[.]”
If, as I am very ready to acknowledge, I erred in writing to Lord Orville, was it for him to punish the error? If he was offended, could he not have been silent? If he thought my letter ill-judged, should he not have pitied my ignorance? have considered my youth, and allowed for my inexperience?
"She is an absolute Court Calendar bigot; for, chancing herself to be born of a noble and ancient family, she thinks proper to be of opinion, that birth and virtue are one and the same thing.”
Yet, when I reflected upon his peculiar situation, his poverty, his sadness, and, more than all the rest, the idea I knew he entertained of what he calls his obligations to me, I could not resolve upon a breach of promise, which might be attributed to causes of all other the most offensive to one whom misfortune has made extremely suspicious of slights and contempt.
My reluctance to this step, gives way to my conviction of its propriety, since the reputation of your dear and much-injured mother must now either be fully cleared from blemish, or receive its final and indelible wound.
What a strange letter! How proud and how piqued does its writer appear! To what alternate meanness and rashness do the passions lead, when reason and self-denial do not oppose them! Sir Clement is conscious he has acted dishonorably, yet the same unbridled vehemence which urged him to gratify a blamable curiosity, will sooner prompt him to risk his life, than confess his misconduct.
Every wish of my soul is now fulfilled—for the felicity of my Evelina is equal to her worthiness!
