redwooding

As with last week, I’m going to start with the history of ideas in this age before moving to the history of events, because this is an era with a vast number of ideas that had enduring significance. Some of them had originated in the previous century, but this is when a full picture of parallel developments across China, India, and Greece forms.

It’s worth noting that when it comes to the major Axial figures of the 400s BC – Socrates, Buddha, Confucius – we have no writing from their own hands about their ideas. Their philosophies and beliefs were handed down by their followers, disciples or students. These included two greatly important figures from the 300s BC: Plato, for Socrates, and Mencius, for Confucius, both of whom added their own ideas to their teachers’.

By the 300s BC, I can see three broad currents in the theological-philosophical-political sphere, which I am going to call Hermit, Wise Ruler, and Brutal Pragmatist. (A fourth element, orthogonal to these, is academia beyond these spheres; in the 300s BC this includes the groundbreaking Astadhyayi text on grammar and linguistics by Panini in India, as well as Aristotle’s writings on, well, everything.) The first two currents got their start earlier, with Buddhism and Jainism and some Upanishads in the Hermit stream and Confucianism in the Wise Philosopher stream; by the 300s each of them was represented in at least two of our three key Axial regions. 

The Hermit philosophies advocated a renunciation of power and possessions. In India this went with a focus on spiritual enlightenment and ethical behaviour; Indian hermits, or ‘renouncers’, occurred among Buddhists, Jains, and Hindus, as well as other lesser-known belief systems. One anecdote (recorded centuries after the fact) has Alexander in India meeting renouncers who have no regard for his conquests or power and dismiss them as wasteful and pointless. Alexander recognizes the total freedom of a man who neither wants nor fears anything within the world. A similar story is told about the Greek philosopher Diogenes the Cynic, who when told by Alexander the Great to ask for anything he wanted, said, “Move; you’re blocking my sunlight.” This illustrates the similarities between these ‘renouncing’ religious-philosophical ideas across regions.

Early Daoism in China was somewhat different from Indian renunciation in lacking concern with enlightenment or ethics – if I can be excused for being flippant, some of the writings on it come across as more of an “if it sucks, hit the bricks!” philosophy. One early text essentially said: go to the woods, fish for food, live as an “untroubled idler”. A recurring term is wuwei (“doing nothing”). It’s about deliberately checking out of politics, property, power, and responsibility in order to be untroubled by them. Actively seeking to act virtuously was seen as a step down from ideal, natural behaviour. 

The Wise Ruler philosophies are most famously expressed in Confucianism and in Plato’s Republic with its idea of philosopher-kings. In both cases, a king who acts and rules according to good philosophical principles will be a good king; in Confucianism, the goal is not for the philosophers themselves to become kings, but to find a king who will listen to them as advisors. Instead of the renunciation of power, this is about the responsible and ethical wielding of power. I’m not aware of an Indian philosophical school in this vein in the Axial period, but ironically, in Ashoka (200s BC) India probably had the closest thing to an ancient king who fit these philosophical ideals (at least if we take his inscriptions as representative of how he ruled in the later part of his reign).

Dropping the “ethical” and focusing just on “wielding of power” gives us the last of the three groups, the Brutal Pragmatist strain of political philosophy. These become expressed in a more systematic matter after the other axial currents, and probably in response to them. Brutal pragmatism as a means of rule obviously far predates the axial age: what is different now is that it has been challenged and needs to justify itself in philosophical language, in competition with the other currents. In some ways this is similar to Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan far later in history, which provided a secular rationale for absolutism in contrast to both liberal political theory and the older idea of divine right of kings. 

In China this brutal pragmatism was expressed by the Legalist school, who believed that people were basically bad and the only way to keep them in line was by inducing fear through draconian punishments. The most (in)famous Chinese Legalist philosopher in this period was Shang Yang, advisor to the ruler of Qin. 

In India the brutal pragmatist current was represented by Kautilya, author of the Arthashastra (the title could be expressed as ‘economics’ or ‘statecraft’ or, heck, ‘the seven habits of highly effective rulers’) and advisor to Chandragupta Maurya, the first of the Mauryan emperors. (There’s debate around this, and the Arthashastra may have been written later, around the first centuries BC and AD, or contain elements from multiple time periods.) The Arthashastra provided a comprehensive examination of domestic and foreign policy, including management of ministries of finance, natural resources, transportation, justice, and others, and officials overseeing industries including liquor, gambling, and sex work. Its foreign policy was firmly realist, taking for granted that every nation sought to expand its territory through conquest and advising on advantageous alliance networks in a setting containing many small states. It emphasized force and punishment as a means of keeping control and stability, for only with stability could there be prosperity. Some of its policy recommendations are strikingly amoral in comparison to the setting of the day: for example, it says the wandering lifestyle of some renouncers makes them useful as international spies. It recognized religion as a force that could be used for practical ends, but limited its religious discussion to those topics, saying, “One can think rationally about action in the human realm; the divine realm is outside rational comprehension.” This is very different from a pre-Axial state, where keeping the gods happy through proper sacrificial rituals was a central purpose of the ruler. (It’s worth noting that there’s debate about when the Arthashastra was written, with some scholars putting it a few centuries later. But even if this is the case, it refers to many earlier texts that have not now been preserved, indicating a longer tradition of Indian political philosophy.)

Greek philosophy doesn’t seem to have had a brutal pragmatist strain – unless we count the sophists, who are accused of exhibiting a similar amorality – but, in an opposite example to Ashoka, they did have a ruler whose implementation of conquest by force was unparalleled in its day: Alexander of Macedon. A great irony is that followers of the ‘wise philosopher’ streams ended up more than once as teachers and advisors to brutal pragmatists: Aristotle was a teacher of Alexander, and two students of the Confucian Xun Zi were prominent officials in the conquering state of Qin.

This brings us to the history of events. The 300s BC saw the rise of the empire of Alexander in Greece and the Mauryan Empire in India, as well as the increasing predominance of the state of Qin within China and the Roman Republic within central Italy. 

But for context we need to step back in time a bit before the origins of those empires. The Persian Empire spent the early part of the 300s BC actually getting stronger. In 387 BC the Spartans were having military difficulties with other Greek states following Sparta’s defeat of Athens in the Peloponnesian War. The Spartans reacted by making a deal with the Persians that gave Persia control of all Anatolia and the northeast coast of Greece and made Persia the ‘guarantor of peace’ in disputes between Greek states. Basically, it gave Persia hegemony over Greece. Ironic, given that Sparta’s historical fame is heavily associated with fighting Persia.

Phillip II of Macedon (r. 359-336 BC) was, after this, the strongest Greek ruler, and in 337 BC the Greek states allied against Persia under his leadership. But in 336 BC he was assassinated. His 20-year-old son Alexander took over for him and the rest was history: within 6 years Alex had conquered Persia and ruled a continuous stretch of territory from Macedonia in the west to Egypt in the south to the borders of India in the east. Notably, though, it didn’t last: after his death in 323 BC, his successors immediately started fighting with each other and continued to do so until the end of the century, breaking the empire into multiple competing parts. The equally famous Qin Empire of China, which we’ll see next week, would likewise struggle to outlive its notorious founder and last less than 20 years. In contrast, the Mauryan Empire, founded by Chandragupta Maurya, lasted over 100 years, and the Han Empire and Roman Empire were even more long-lived. In each case, a short-lived dominant state or empire gave way to (or laid the foundation for) a much more lasting one. (To some degree this is a similar pattern to Assyria and Persia – an earlier empire ruling only by force, and a longer-lived one establishing a more stable ideology – even though Iron Age Assyria was longer-lived than other empires of its type.)

The Indian predecessor to the Mauryans is less well-known than Alexander the Great or Qin Shi Huang. It was the Nanda Empire, founded by Mahapadma Nanda around 350 BC. He was ruler of the state of Magadha, and under him Magadha gained control of the whole Ganges-Yamuna region – basically, the bulk of northern India. This would have been the empire that Alexander faced when he reached India. The Nanda dynasty were shortly after that (around 324-320 BC) overthrown by Chandragupta Maurya, who established the Mauryan Empire.

We’ve now reached an era of inter-imperial diplomacy: not just successive empires overthrowing each other (like Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians) but multiple ones interacting. Seleucus I Nicator, an Alexandrine general who had taken over the central Asian and Iranian parts of Alexander’s empire, attempted to invade India but was quickly stopped by Chandragupta Maurya. He ceded what is now Pakistan and parts of Afghanistan to Chandragupta Maurya, who gifted him 500 war elephants in return. These war elephants then played a major role in Seleucus’ victory over another Alexandrine general, Antigonus, who had claimed the Levant, Syria, and much of Anatolia. The Seleucids and Mauryans additionally made a marriage alliance, and there was a Seleucid ambassador stationed in the Mauryan capital of Pataliputra.

At the same time Qin in China was expanding its control. Qin was based around its capital of Xi’an in western China. Over the 300s BC, it first expanded south into Sichuan, gaining rich agricultural land, and then captured much of the rest of western China from its rivals. It was the state where Legalist philosophy was most prominent, with adherents including the Qin prime minister, Shang Yang. He created a centralised state entirely oriented towards military mobilization and conquest. Government became more systematic: people and land were carefully counted and measured in order to exact heavy taxation and forced labour from the peasantry. Weights and measures were standardized. People were classified into groups of adjacent households, and if anyone in the group stepped out of line, the whole group was harshly punished.

Like Qin, Rome was not yet a great power but was expanding its territory through conquest, and during this century it increased its prominence in central Italy substantially. Its system of expansion was one it would continue in its later conquests through Italy. Conquered populations were enslaved and their lands annexed. Some of these lands were distributed to Roman soldiers, others to aristocratic landowners. The fact that both of those groups benefitted from conquests by obtaining land and slaves diffused social conflicts between them. Rome’s social model and social stability basically required continual conquest. Even as a midsize, politically republican state, it was already operating like an empire: drawing resources from conquered areas to benefit the core territory. New infrastructure projects supported conquest and growth. The late 300s BC saw the building of the Appian Way, a stone-paved road to enable rapid movement of armies from Rome to wars in the south, as well as the first aqueduct bringing water to Rome from outlying areas.

On the one hand, as @firawren says, it reinforces that “love isn’t enough,” which is obviously a part of the message in favor of sense.

Captain Wentworth thinks there is nothing so proper as going down on Anne. Henry Tilney? You cannot doubt. Charles Bingley? Jane would be completely embarrassed but he'll talk her into it. Elizabeth needs to bring Darcy around but we know she can do it. Edward would go on his knees for Elinor. Colonel Brandon needs to protect his knees but Marianne doesn't even make a single old age joke about it. Emma can ask for what she wants but Fanny Price...

Fanny Price takes what she is given and expresses endless gratitude. And while Edmund is perceptive, he was the only one to help when she couldn't write home to her brother, he bought her the chain when she needed something for her cross... he also has this quietly selfish quality to him (the Portsmouth letter that doesn't ask anything about her and "Fanny think of me!") and a penchant for expecting Fanny to be his mirror and go along with all his expectations ("asking" for advice about joining the play and their conversation about Henry's proposal) which leaves me absolutely certain that he will just do whatever satisfies himself in bed and never think about giving Fanny anything more. And she'll be content, just like she was with his half-written little note and the endless useless gifts from Tom, and never understand that she could have so much more. Mary Crawford could have gotten head out of Edmund, but never Fanny Price.

And yes, I know I know, it was the Regency times, women are not basing their happiness on their expectation for orgasms but I can still want the very best things for them can't I?

Vienna here refers to the song by Billy Joel. When he was young, his parents divorced and his father—originally from Germany—left him behind to grow up with his mother.

He eventually reunited with his father on his first European tour, in Vienna.

He was young and feeling desperate to achieve everything he wanted before he grew old, but then he started to notice that elderly people seemed to have more of a place in daily life in Austria than they do in America. He saw them out and about more, socializing, working, enjoying life.

He later said in an interview,

“I realized they [Europeans] don’t throw old people away like we tend to do here in the States. They allow for people who are aged to have a useful place in the scheme of things, and I thought, ‘ya know that’s a good metaphor for someone my age to consider.’ You don’t have to squeeze your whole life into your 20s and 30s trying to make it, trying to achieve that American dream, getting in the rat race, and killing yourself. You have a whole life to live. I kind of used ‘Vienna’ as a metaphor, there is a reason for being old, a purpose.”

My main account got @-ed on this scam (no I won't say which one), and it occurred to me that some of the people here might not realize this is a scam.

Why do so many people think this? Because Anne's strange. She's really, really original, different, and awesome. Her originality sadly fades as the novels progress, but early on she takes a creative view of the world.

She wouldn't normally need swearing. You know how a few people are so creative in their criticisms and insults, so it sounds like swearing, but isn't? That would be Anne. She'd only swear if if her mind shut down out of shock or frustration.

The 400s BC were when the religious and philosophical transformation called the Axial Age kicked into full gear. This century saw the origins of Buddhism, Jainism, and Confucianism, as well as the height of classical Greece, with philosophers such as Socrates.

As mentioned in earlier posts, state-based religions before this time, as in ancient Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon, hadn’t been centred primarily on ideas or ethical precepts. The existence of gods was a given, and you wanted them to do good things (e.g., send rain when needed, grant victory against enemies) and not bad things to you (e.g. cause natural disasters). The gods were not necessarily moral; what mattere was that they were powerful. Rituals and sacrifices to show the gods proper respect, deference or worship were how to appease them. Historian Bret Deveareaux’s posts on practical polytheism are better at getting into this than I am:

In the 400s BC, new ideas challenged this kind of religion. Buddhism and Jainism were specifically opposed to the rituals and animal sacrifices that were the core of much Vedic religious practice, as well as to the caste hierarchy that reserved the highest religious positions for Brahmin priests. Instead, Jainism redefined sacrifice as ethical living (e.g., doing no harm to other living beings; honesty; celibacy; renunciation of property; self-control); Buddhism said that following more or less the same list of ethical precepts was what made someone a Brahmin. This set them apart from the earlier Vedic Upanishads which, while reducing the emphasis on sacrifice, had not rejected it. Their goals were not material but spiritual: release from the cycle of bodily reincarnation. This was a transformation of what religion meant.

Not all the new religions and philosophies went as far. Confucianism, for example, regarded adherence to rituals and sacrifices as part of a moral life, and considered hierarchies – between ruler and subject, parent and child, husband and wife – foundational to society. But its focus was still centred on presenting a framework for ethical behaviour and principles that would lead to a good society, and on making the case for its own precepts relative to other philosophies, and that was new. Most religion prior to this time hadn’t been a matter of opinion; now people discussed and debated competing ideas about what made a good life and a good society. The teachings of all these religions and philosophies included debates or anecdotes where their founders contested with adherents of other belief systems: Socrates with other Greek philosophers; Hinduism (or Vedism), Buddhism, and Jainism with each other; Confucianism with Mohism (adherents of another Chinese philosopher, Mo Zi).

And the founders and adherents of these Axial religions and philosophies considered these ideas and principles worth suffering or dying for. Jains practised extreme asceticism, eating minimally and going naked. Jain texts describe Mahavira, founder of Jainism, being attacked and beaten, having things thrown at him, having dogs set on him. Buddhism was not as heavily ascetic, but that mostly meant you could eat and wear clothes - serious seeking of enlightenment still involved giving up all possessions and status and familial connections and begging for your food. Socrates was famously executed for his philosophical teachings. Confucians and Mohists spent their lives trying to convince rulers to listen to them, often with little success, rather than tell rulers what they wanted to hear.

Finally, it’s notable that the ruler wasn’t the central figure for any of these religions or philosophies, unlike the religions of, say, ancient Egypt or ancient Babylon. For Socrates being a philosopher was the best thing anyone could do with their life; for Buddhism and Jainism, being a property-less renunciate was best; for Confucianism, the central moral figure was generally the wise advisor to a king, more than the king himself. 

So despite substantial differences between, say, Confucianism and Buddhism, all of these ideas had more in common with each other than they did with anything that had come before them.

Now it’s time to get more into the political, social, and economic contexts within which these ideas were formed.

———-

In Greece, much of this century was the golden age of Athens, beginning with Greece’s successful repulsion of two successive Persian invasions (in 490 BC at the Battle of Marathon, and 480-479 BC at the battles of Salamis and Plateia) and ending with Athens’ loss to Sparta in the Peloponnesian War (431-404 BC). In the time between those wars, Athens was politically dominant within Greece. It had democratic government, built the Parthenon, and had a flourishing intellectual and artistic culture, including plays by Aeschylus, Aristophanes, and Sophocles. During the Peloponnesian War the situation became more fraught, with Athenian democracy being overthrown and restored not once but twice. Athenians defined their democratic political identity in contrast to the powers surrounding them: triumphantly in response to fighting off Persians, or doubtingly in response to defeat by Sparta. 

In China, it was a time of frequent conflict, known as the Warring States period. One of the main states from the previous century split apart in civil war, while other states conquered neighbouring ones. The main question politically and philosophically was how to get back to the stability of earlier times. At the same time, it was a period of intellectual flourishing. Literacy increased substantially, as did the volume of texts, generally written with brush and ink on wooden or bamboo strips. Writings included both new ideas and commentaries on older texts. Freelance intellectuals, philosophers, and political advisors sought rulers who would heed them, and rulers sought new ideas that could give them an edge. The principal philosophers of this kind were Confucius and Mo Zi. Confucius advocated ruling by example: if rulers behaved with virtue, benevolence, and dignity, the people would follow. His ideas of society were hierarchical, but also advocated for appointment to government office based on virtue, not birth. He considered both orderly, hierarchical familial relationships and observance of ritual to be foundational to society. Mo Zi was something like an ancient utilitarian: he advocated against wars, luxurious living, and complex rituals on the basis that they were a waste of money that could be used in more economically productive ways, and (though not opposing class hierarchies) argued that people should care about everyone equally, not putting their own family or nation first.

In practice, both Confucius and Mo Zi struggled to gain traction with rulers, although they attracted disciples. From the harshness of the legal codes promulgated during this time, most rulers preferred to rule by force and fear rather than virtuous example. At least part of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War (which may in fact have had multiple authors) was written during this time. It was a time of military changes: the chariot passed out of fashion and was replaced by mounted cavalry (picked up from China’s nomadic neighbours). Another new invention, the crossbow, could be mass-produced in standard forms and was faster to train archers on than other bows. The core of the military was massed infantry armies on an unprecedented scale for the region.

In India, the Buddhist and Jain religions focused on spiritual rather than material goals, and similar renunciates existed within Hinduism and other religious and philosophical systems. Like the changes in Greece and China, this may have been in response to the particular political dynamics there. The state of Magadha, in the east-central Ganges valley, was increasing its power and conquering its neighbours. The proliferation of ideas centring on a return to the forests (associated with non-state people) may have come out of a rejection of the comparatively new situations of warring states, urbanization, and growing wealth divides. The first coinage in the Ganges valley dates from this period, likely adopted via Persian influence.

Persia, for its part, remained the dominant power in Western Asia. Its repulsion by Greece early in the century, though greatly important to the Greeks, was for the Persians probably comparable to the Vietnam War for Americans: costly and embarrassing, but not a threat to its place as a major power. Egypt rebelling against Persia and gaining independence at the end of the century (during a period of a power struggle for the Persian throne) was probably a larger blow, but was followed by a restoration of stability and Persian strength.

——-

One signal of how much more interconnected the world was becoming comes from Herodotus’ Histories, written in this century. He recounts that the Phoenicians had circumnavigated Africa; while this is very unlikely (it was only in the AD 1400s that the Portuguese figured out how to negotiate the currents and winds to journey northward around the western hump of Africa), he mentions a difference the sailors observed in the position of the sun that matches what they would actually see if they were in the southern hemisphere. So someone in contact with the Greek world had been to the southern hemisphere by the 400s BC – likely the coast of Tanzania or Kenya. Herodotus was also aware of India, but had rather fantastical ideas about it, like gold being mined by giant ants; and he had no knowledge of China.

We’ll wrap up with the Americas. In Mesoamerica, one of the big events was the founding of the Zapotec city of Monte Albán at the start of the century. It appears at basically the same time that San José Mogoté disappears, and with basically the same cultural characteristics, giving the strong impression that the people of San José Mogote – possibly in confederation with former rivals – picked up and moved to a new and more defensible location. Monte Albán was sited in a strategic location, on a flat-topped mesa where the three arms of the Oaxaca Valley met, and over the following centuries would rise to dominate the whole Oaxaca region. Carvings from this period at Monte Albán include stelae (large stone pillars) with writing on them, and with dates that indicate the Zapotecs were using the 365-day solar calendar and the 260-day ritual calendar in combination with each other.

At the same time as Monte Albán was rising in power, the Olmecs declined; the 400s BC mark the end of their long period of preeminence in Mesoamerica. The 400s BC were likewise the last century of the Chavín culture’s influence in Peru. The reasons for both of these shifts are unclear.

While Chavín declined, the site of Pukara, in Peru’s southern highlands near Lake Titicaca, rose. It appears to have militarily defeated its rivals around 400 BC. It was a substantial settlement, with large platform mounds topped by sunken courts and involving decorative stonecarving in animal shapes. The combination of a large population, architectural scale, economic inequality (indicated by different groups having different sizes of residences) and military power indicates it was the capital of a state. 

Around the same time, the Paracas culture, predecessor of the Nazca, was prominent on Peru’s southern coast. Its people built platform mounds, and mummified dead elites in a seated position wrapped in intricate and colourful cotton textiles; a fabric fragment is shown below (source: Metropolitan Museum of Art).

I'm a realist, and so was Jane Austen; no one romantic will like this answer:

The couples, who are in love, lack birth control, and believe children are a gift from God, will have as many children as their fertility allows. The average in the era for a gentry family was 6.7 children. Anne Elliot, who may not always be able to travel with her husband, may have bigger gaps as a navy wife (I always have speculated that Mrs. Croft's one time away from her husband was because she was pregnant and maybe miscarried.)

As for names, Jane Austen adheres pretty closely to naming children after their parents, in almost every case where we know the parents' names and then using other very common names for the era. So it's going to be a whole crowd of Elizabeths, Annes, and Marys, Charleses, Johns, and Williams. The most exciting you'll get is a mother's maiden name being used as a boy's first name (like Fitzwilliam Darcy) and maybe Marianne Brandon using names from poetry.

Catherine Morland is the eldest daughter of ten (NA)

The Musgroves (P) and Lucases (P&P) seem to have very large families, but not all children are named. We know Charlotte Lucas has multiple brothers and sisters from the text, including Lucas Wine Boy. The Middletons in S&S I think have quite a few children already and they wouldn't be done.

The Bennet girls are so close I don't think it's possible to have deceased siblings between them. It's possible there were miscarriages or otherwise after Lydia. We do know of one stillborn, Sir Walter's son from Persuasion and we know of a single deceased sibling, Mary from Mansfield Park.

Secondary infertility would have been more common without medical intervention. We also know that couples who didn't marry for love did stick to that addage of "a heir and a spare" which may explain some of the smaller families.

There is actually a huge range of fertility among the gentry in Austen's works: Mrs. Morland, ten children; Mrs. Price, nine; Mrs. Musgrove, at least six, maybe seven; Mrs. Bennet, five; Mrs. Gardiner, Lady Middleton, and Lady Bertram, four (yes, Lady M. may not be done); the late Mrs. Tilney, the late Lady Elliot, the unmentioned Mrs. Wentworth (Frederick and Sophie's mom), Mrs. Dashwood, and the unmentioned Countess ___ (Mrs. Fitzwilliam), three; Lady Anne Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mary Elliot Musgrove, the late Mrs. Woodhouse, the unmentioned Mrs. Knightley, and the barely mentioned Mrs. Crawford, two (though Mary M. probably isn't done); and Fanny Dashwood, Lady Susan Vernon, and Charlotte Lucas, one (true - it's only Charlotte's first).

What could explain this wide range in Austen's novels? Fertility restriction was in fact beginning at the time among English elites, partly because English mortality started to lower in the 1730s or 1750 (depending on who you ask). The overall English birthrate peaked by 1805, then started to go down; elites led this change. The big drop started around 1880, many decades later, but this was population-wide, not elite.

Physically, how?

Probably "French letters," i.e., condoms. Wikipedia says they were widely used in Europe by 1800:

"In the 18th century, condoms were available in a variety of qualities and sizes, made from either linen treated with chemicals, or 'skin' (bladder or intestine softened by treatment with sulfur and lye).  They were sold at pubs, barbershops, chemist shops, open-air markets, and at the theater throughout Europe and Russia. They later spread to America, although in every place there were generally used only by the middle and upper classes, due to both expense and lack of sex education."

(See the History section.)

While they were mostly considered ways to prevent disease, Casanaova (yes, that Casanova) used them specifically for birth control. He could not possibly be the only person who thought this.

Anyone in the gentry could afford to buy them. Were they as good as they are now? No. They were more breakable. Still, widespread use suggests that they were still pretty good.

So I question the "no birth control" idea. There was some, however imperfect it was.

Also, Thomas Malthus (1798) specifically mentions birth control in limiting population; he was against it. There was a debate about this, though in public most were on Malthus's side, while some members of the elite in practice were using it in private. And that is a way to begin answering Anonymous's question.

Some couples would have been against it, some for. It's significant that Mrs. Morland has ten children; Mr. Morland is a clergyman (as was Malthus). Mr. Price? Limit his own pleasure? Hell, no. (And he probably can't afford them.) The Musgroves are specifically called old-fashioned in their furniture choices; this might apply in other areas of life. The Bennets really, really want a boy. After that, we might see some purposeful limitation, or yes, stillbirths, miscarriages, and spousal deaths might well be operating. Three children seems to be on purpose, and there were several families of them in the above list. Two kids is definitely on purpose. (There were something like twelve years between Fitzwilliam's and Georgiana's births. George and Anne Darcy were not doing it in those twelve years, and then suddenly started? Possible, but doubtful. French letters make more sense, especially a broken one after twelve years.)

So to answer it directly, a little speculation is in order. I will infer that family of origin size and political / religious stance will influence any attempt to limit fertility. That leads to this set of guesses:

Fanny and Edmund: lots of kids. But will this kill her? Maybe fewer.

Elinor and Edmund: maybe a lot.

The Brandons: dunno.

Catherine and Henry: She would probably want more than he would. (He's not a typically moralistic clergyman.)

The Darcys: 3-4.

The Wentworths: 2. Yes, Anne's period of fertility is shortened, and if anyone knows about French letters, it's a naval captain.

The Knightleys: two.

Could the inference that family of origin would influence numbers of children be wrong? Yes. Moral / political stance, sense of tradition, and other such factors might be more important.

I made some remarks based on this post, about how marriage for a woman in that era wasn't just about choosing a partner, but about choosing the master of your life, both legally and spiritually, whom you would be expected to obey. So choosing a man whom you didn't respect, and who obviously wasn't worthy of respect, was a much bigger deal than just "He'll never make you happy."

But another commentator disagreed with me, pointing out that mercenary marriages with no thought of love or respect took place all the time in the Regency era. In their point of view, Elizabeth is just upset that her best friend doesn't find Mr. Collins as repulsive as she does herself.

That made me think of how @bethanydelleman has complained that the adaptations almost always portray Mr. Collins as older and more physically off-putting than the character in the book, who is a young man (younger than Charlotte, in fact) and who is only ridiculous in personality, not in looks. This creates the sense that Elizabeth's objection to marrying him, and to Charlotte marrying him, is more visceral and less objective than Austen meant it to be.

I wonder if that other commentator on YouTube was thinking mainly of the adaptations, because "Elizabeth is upset that Charlotte doesn't find Mr. Collins as repulsive as she does" sounds like a very visceral interpretation of her feelings.

"It was a long time before [Elizabeth] became at all reconciled to the idea of so unsuitable a match. The strangeness of Mr. Collins’s making two offers of marriage within three days was nothing in comparison of his being now accepted. She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own; but she could not have supposed it possible that, when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. Charlotte, the wife of Mr. Collins, was a most humiliating picture! And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself, and sunk in her esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen."

I think the text does support OP's point - I think. Here are Charlotte's thoughts on the matter, in Austen's famous free indirect discourse:

"Charlotte herself was tolerably composed. She had gained her point, and had time to consider of it. Her reflections were in general satisfactory. Mr. Collins, to be sure, was neither sensible nor agreeable: his society was irksome, and his attachment to her must be imaginary. But still he would be her husband. Without thinking highly either of men or of matrimony, marriage had always been her object: it was the only honourable provision for well-educated young women of small fortune, and, however uncertain of giving happiness, must be their pleasantest preservative from want. This preservative she had now obtained; and at the age of twenty-seven, without having ever been handsome, she felt all the good luck of it."

Not sensible, not agreeable, irksome, and an imaginary love for her. Yeah, I think Charlotte knows full well who he is. And it's quite possible that Elizabeth can tell this.

It's certainly mercenary, but we get Charlotte's opinion of marriage (foreshadowing?) after the Meryton assembly: "Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." And Elizabeth seems to have forgotten that Charlotte said this.

Lately, however, a university education is so expensive, and so many people are having so much trouble paying off loans, that people are questioning whether it's worth it. They have good reason to question it.

And the answer is, we don't.

The unhoused people who come here seeking refuge 99% of the time understand that they will be kicked out if they misbehave.

The people you have to watch out for are Jessica, who only came because the kid she didn't want had to visit for a homework assignment and she just *needs* to yell at her child for asking to borrow two books or stay an extra five minutes, or Michael, who came in to look at porn on our computers for whatever fucking reason, or Karen who just wanted to come by to throw a fit that the particular book she wanted was checked out and harrass our staff about our collection being too limited.

And we did what we could to help. He was incredibly kind and patient despite his obvious anxiety and stress, more than most able bodied, housed patrons are to us under much less dire conditions. I liked knowing that we were the first place he came.

We have so many people like this who come in everyday. Many are quiet and keep to themselves, but sometimes they talk to us.

They tell us about how they're taking a few courses on a scholarship they applied for from our library's computer at the local community college to get their diploma. Or ask about a manga or dvd or book we might have to help them pass the time.

One woman, who comes in daily with her tattered walker always says hello to me and likes to work on the new jigsaw puzzle with me when we set one out.

So like, treat unhoused people like people. Treat disabled people like people. I don't want my library to feel like the only safe space in the world, but I'm glad it can be one of them.