Psychology Today tells us, “Human beings are built to size each other up quickly. These first impressions are influenced by a number of factors, such as facial shape, vocal inflection, attractiveness, and general emotional state. People tend to get attached to their initial impressions of others and find it very difficult to change their opinion, even when presented with lots of evidence to the contrary. As a result, it’s important to be aware of how one comes across to others during a first meeting.”

We have all taken a first impression of another individual. You encounter the person at the grocery store, in a public park, in school, etc., and you create (consciously or subconsciously) a mental image of that person. How accuracy that snap judgement is can prove debatable. Such factors as where you encounter them, the person’s looks, demeanor, gender, language (this is a big one for me as a former English teacher), posture, voice, etc. all lend themselves to forming that first impression.

First impressions can be affected by whether we are alone or with others. We found that to be true when Elizabeth Bennet first encounters Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy at the Meryton Assembly in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. The original title of Austen’s most famous tale was “First Impressions.” Let us see what our two main characters thought of each other upon their first encounter.

Mr. Darcy catches everyone’s eye, for he tall and handsome and reportedly has an income of 10,000 per year. Mr. Darcy is the “another young man” of whom they all have heard who will attend the assembly with the Bingley party. Sandsifterfive tells us . . .

That ‘another young man’ is, of course, Mr. Darcy, and his words and actions at Chapter Three’s Assembly Ball will affect every succeeding page of the Novel.  His pride gives rise to no small reactions of wounded pride and intense prejudice on the part of Elizabeth, the object of his studied insult. Studied because Austen makes clear that Mr. Darcy is aware that Elizabeth is listening when he tells Bingley that Elizabeth:

‘… is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.’

Mr. Darcy: a fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien … looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust … for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased.

Elizabeth: who

… remained with no very cordial feelings toward him [Mr. Darcy, of course]. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.

I have previously searched out the words “pride” and “prejudice” to note how often Austen used those words in her beloved novel. Now let us see how she used first “impressions,” the intended title.

From Chapter 35, a part of Mr. Darcy’s letter to Elizabeth:  “I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother’s nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid, he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement, and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister’s credit and feelings prevented any public exposure; but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham’s chief object was unquestionably my sister’s fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed.

From Chapter 36, Elizabeth second guesses her “first impression”: When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were mentioned in terms of such mortifying, yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded as having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers.

From Chapter 44, we note Elizabeth’s change of heart:  As for Elizabeth, her thoughts were at Pemberley this evening more than the last; and the evening, though as it passed it seemed long, was not long enough to determine her feelings towards one in that mansion; and she lay awake two whole hours endeavouring to make them out. She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him, that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; and it was now heightened into somewhat of a friendlier nature by the testimony so highly in his favour, and bringing forward his disposition in so amiable a light, which yesterday had produced. But above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of goodwill which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude — gratitude, not merely for having once loved her, but for loving her still well enough to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner in rejecting him, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, seemed, on this accidental meeting, most eager to preserve the acquaintance, and without any indelicate display of regard, or any peculiarity of manner, where their two selves only were concerned, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends, and bent on making her known to his sister. Such a change in a man of so much pride, excited not only astonishment but gratitude — for to love, ardent love, it must be attributed; and as such, its impression on her was of a sort to be encouraged, as by no means unpleasing, though it could not be exactly defined. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him, she felt a real interest in his welfare; and she only wanted to know how far she wished that welfare to depend upon herself, and how far it would be for the happiness of both that she should employ the power, which her fancy told her she still possessed, of bringing on the renewal of his addresses.

From Chapter 48, Mr. Bennet has returned from his search for Lydia in London. He does not blame Elizabeth for what happened. Instead, he indicates she practiced wisdom, when he did not.

When Mr. Bennet arrived, he had all the appearance of his usual philosophic composure. He said as little as he had ever been in the habit of saying; made no mention of the business that had taken him away, and it was some time before his daughters had courage to speak of it.

   It was not till the afternoon, when he joined them at tea, that Elizabeth ventured to introduce the subject; and then, on her briefly expressing her sorrow for what he must have endured, he replied, “Say nothing of that. Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it.”

   “You must not be too severe upon yourself,” replied Elizabeth.

   “You may well warn me against such an evil. Human nature is so prone to fall into it! No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough.”

   “Do you suppose them to be in London?”

   “Yes; where else can they be so well concealed?’

   “And Lydia used to want to go to London,” added Kitty.

   “She is happy, then,” said her father drily; “and her residence there will probably be of some duration.”

   Then, after a short silence, he continued —

   “Lizzy, I bear you no ill-will for being justified in your advice to me last May, which, considering the event, shews some greatness of mind.”

The next reference to “impressions” occurs in Chapter 55. This is when Mrs. Bennet is attempting to remove her other daughters from the room so Mr. Bingley might propose to Jane.

The same anxiety to get them by themselves, was visible again in the evening. After tea Mr. Bennet retired to the library, as was his custom, and Mary went upstairs to her instrument. Two obstacles of the five being thus removed, Mrs. Bennet sat looking and winking at Elizabeth and Catherine for a considerable time, without making any impression on them. Elizabeth would not observe her; and when at last Kitty did, she very innocently said, “What is the matter, mama? What do you keep winking at me for? What am I to do?”

Hoping for a more enjoyable response to his proposal to Elizabeth Bennet, he asks her again in Chapter 58, which is where we find “impression” once more.

 “We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth; “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable. But since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”

   “I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said — of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it — is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”

   “I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”

   “I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling; I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”

The final reference comes from Chapter 59 when Mr. Bennet agrees to Elizabeth marrying Mr. Darcy.

Her father was walking about the room, looking grave and anxious. “Lizzy,” said he, “what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have not you always hated him?”

   How earnestly did she then wish that her former opinions had been more reasonable, her expressions more moderate! It would have spared her from explanations and professions which it was exceedingly awkward to give; but they were now necessary, and she assured him with some confusion, of her attachment to Mr. Darcy.

   “Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and you may have more fine clothes and fine carriages than Jane. But will they make you happy?”

   “Have you any other objections,” said Elizabeth, “than your belief of my indifference?”

   “None at all. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of a man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”

   “I do, I do like him,” she replied, with tears in her eyes; “I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know what he really is; then pray do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms.”

   “Lizzy,” said her father, “I have given him my consent. He is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything which he condescended to ask. I now give it to you, if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could be neither happy nor respectable unless you truly esteemed your husband — unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger in an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing you unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about.”

   Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.

   “Well, my dear,” said he, when she ceased speaking, “I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzy, to any one less worthy.” To complete the favourable impression, she then told him what Mr. Darcy had voluntarily done for Lydia. He heard her with astonishment.

   “This is an evening of wonders indeed! And so, Darcy did everything — made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow’s debts, and got him his commission! So much the better. It will save me a world of trouble and economy. Had it been your uncle’s doing, I must and would have paid him; but these violent young lovers carry everything their own way. I shall offer to pay him to-morrow: he will rant and storm about his love for you, and there will be an end of the matter.” He then recollected her embarrassment a few days before, on his reading Mr. Collins’s letter; and after laughing at her some time, allowed her at last to go, saying, as she quitted the room, “If any young men come for Mary or Kitty, send them in, for I am quite at leisure.”

   Elizabeth’s mind was now relieved from a very heavy weight, and, after half an hour’s quiet reflection in her own room, she was able to join the others with tolerable composure. Everything was too recent for gaiety, but the evening passed tranquilly away; there was no longer anything material to be dreaded, and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time.

That is it. Only 7 times was “impressions” used in the novel originally entitled First Impressions. Whereas, variations of “pride, proud, and prideful” appear more than 130 times. Enough said.