As a young girl in a patriarchal society, Evelina relies on the guidance of her guardian, Mr. Villars, in navigating her early life. When she leaves home for the first time, however, she finds that her judgement is often tested in new situations and she worries about making mistakes that Mr. Villars might disapprove of. But as Evelina makes mistakes and gains experience, she comes to trust herself and realizes that she no longer needs to rely solely on Mr. Villars for moral advice—she has learned to make wise decisions alone. In charting Evelina’s evolution, Burney suggests that learning to trust one’s own judgment is a hallmark of maturity, and that people are most able to mature into wise, moral adults if they are provided with solid guidance in early life.
At the beginning of the novel, Mr. Villars fears allowing the innocent Evelina to travel to London, but he knows that it will be beneficial for her to gain experience and to make up her own mind about things. Evelina has been brought up in the countryside—which, in the 18th century, was associated with purity and innocence, while towns were believed to be corrupt. Evelina is also uneducated about social etiquette, and city dwellers refer to her as “rustic,” implying that she comes across as naive and innocent because of her sheltered upbringing. Part of Mr. Villars’s worries stem from the fact that Evelina’s mother, Caroline, was led astray by city life in her youth; she naively fell in love with the reckless nobleman, Sir John, who impregnated and then abandoned her. Mr. Villars fears that because Evelina is so innocent and inexperienced, she may make a similarly grave mistake. Despite his concerns, Mr. Villars also accepts that if he tries to stop Evelina from having adult experiences, she will only yearn for them more. Mr. Villars therefore allows Evelina to make decisions for herself, which lets Evelina know that he trusts her—and given this mutual respect, she doesn’t want to disappoint him. Therefore, Evelina shares her adventures with Mr. Villars through her letters and asks for his advice on many occasions. This suggests that part of being an effective moral guide is allowing people to learn for themselves.
Evelina is forced to make her own decisions while she is away from home, which the novel suggests is a natural part of gaining maturity. For instance, while Evelina is at a ball, a boorish nobleman named Sir Clement pesters her. To get rid of him, she lies and says she already has a partner. But Sir Clement badgers Evelina until she admits her deceit, and her resulting embarrassment and realization that she navigated the situation poorly show how her naïveté in social situations can lead her into trouble. However, it is this firsthand experience that allows Evelina to learn. At another ball, she turns down all of the men who ask to dance with her, but a man named Mr. Smith won’t take no for an answer. Because of her past blunder, Evelina now knows that one must either accept the first man who asks or refuse to dance altogether, so she manages to successfully—and honorably—avoid dancing with Mr. Smith. In other words, gaining maturity and wisdom like Evelina does is a process of trial and error.
Mr. Villars allows Evelina the freedom to learn from experience—and gave her the tools in early life to make smart decisions—she develops a sense of true independence and an ability to guide herself. As the novel progresses, Evelina gains confidence in her own judgment as her experience grows. When she discovers the Scottish poet, Mr. Macartney, on the verge of suicide, Evelina wishes she could obtain Mr. Villars’ guidance but knows that there is not time—she must act for herself. Her quick-thinking (she follows Macartney and stops him from hurting himself) saves Macartney’s life and proves to Evelina, and to Mr. Villars, that she is growing into a capable adult who knows how to make wise decisions. During another incident, Sir Clement writes an insulting letter to Evelina and pretends it’s from Lord Orville, trying to make Evelina think that the man has bad intentions toward her. However, Evelina rightly trusts her own experience with Lord Orville—who has always been courteous and kind to her—rather than rashly breaking off contact with him the second she receives the note. Even before Evelina confirms that Lord Orville is indeed innocent, she’s tolerant and forgiving toward him, which speaks to her maturity. Just as she has learned from her mistakes in the past, she gives others the opportunity to learn, grow, and mature.
Despite Mr. Villars’ initial fear that Evelina will be led astray in the city, the moral guidance he provided while she was in his care means that Evelina is capable of making mistakes and learning from them—a crucial aspect of growing up. Through Evelina’s ascent to maturity, Burney concludes that having strong guidance in early life gives people confidence to explore the world on their own terms, make mistakes, and learn from them. With this foundation, people can mature and strengthen their decision-making abilities and moral compass.
Related Themes from Other Texts
Innocence, Guidance, and Experience ThemeTracker
Innocence, Guidance, and Experience Quotes in Evelina: or, The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance into the World
How often have I since regretted that I did not accompany her thither! protected and supported by me, the misery and disgrace which awaited her, might, perhaps, have been avoided.
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.
When young people are too rigidly sequestered from it, their lively and romantic imaginations paint it to them as a paradise of which they have been beguiled; but when they are shewn it properly, and in due time, they see it such as it really is, equally shared by pain and pleasure, hope and disappointment.
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.
But falsehood is not more unjustifiable than unsafe.
"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?"
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.
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?
Once, indeed, I thought there existed another,—who, when time had wintered over his locks—would have shone forth among his fellow creatures, with the same brightness of worth which dignifies my honored Mr. Villars
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.
"There is no young creature, my Lord, who so greatly wants, or so earnestly wishes for, the advice and assistance of her friends, as I do; I am new to the world, and unused to acting for myself,—my intentions are never willfully blamable, yet I err perpetually—I have, hitherto, been blessed with the most affectionate of friends, and, indeed, the ablest of men, to guide and instruct me upon every occasion; but he is too distant, now, to be applied to at the moment I want his aid[.]”
Every wish of my soul is now fulfilled—for the felicity of my Evelina is equal to her worthiness!
