"I will not profess bravery," said Lydgate, smiling, "but I acknowledgea good deal of pleasure in fighting, and I should not care for myprofession, if I did not believe that better methods were to be found andenforced there as well as everywhere else."
"The standard of that profession is low in Middlemarch, my dear sir,"said the banker. "I mean in knowledge and skill; not in social status, forour medical men are most of them connected with respectabletownspeople here. My own imperfect health has induced me to give someattention to those palliative resources which the divine mercy has placedwithin our reach. I have consulted eminent men in the metropolis, and Iam painfully aware of the backwardness under which medical treatmentlabors in our provincial districts."
"Yes;—with our present medical rules and education, one must besatisfied now and then to meet with a fair practitioner. As to all thehigher questions which determine the starting-point of a diagnosis—as tothe philosophy of medial evidence—any glimmering of these can onlycome from a scientific culture of which country practitioners haveusually no more notion than the man in the moon."
Mr. Bulstrode, bending and looking intently, found the form whichLydgate had given to his agreement not quite suited to hiscomprehension. Under such circumstances a judicious man changes thetopic and enters on ground where his own gifts may be more useful. "I am aware," he said, "that the peculiar bias of medical ability istowards material means. Nevertheless, Mr. Lydgate, I hope we shall notvary in sentiment as to a measure in which you are not likely to beactively concerned, but in which your sympathetic concurrence may bean aid to me. You recognize, I hope; the existence of spiritual interests inyour patients?"
"Certainly I do. But those words are apt to cover different meaningsto different minds."
"Precisely. And on such subjects wrong teaching is as fatal as noteaching. Now a point which I have much at heart to secure is a newregulation as to clerical attendance at the old infirmary. The buildingstands in Mr. Farebrother's parish. You know Mr. Farebrother?"
"I have seen him. He gave me his vote. I must call to thank him. Heseems a very bright pleasant little fellow. And I understand he is anaturalist."
"Mr. Farebrother, my dear sir, is a man deeply painful tocontemplate. I suppose there is not a clergyman in this country who hasgreater talents." Mr. Bulstrode paused and looked meditative.
"I have not yet been pained by finding any excessive talent inMiddlemarch," said Lydgate, bluntly.
"What I desire," Mr. Bulstrode continued, looking still more serious,"is that Mr. Farebrother's attendance at the hospital should besuperseded by the appointment of a chaplain—of Mr. Tyke, in fact—andthat no other spiritual aid should be called in."
"As a medial man I could have no opinion on such a point unless Iknew Mr. Tyke, and even then I should require to know the cases inwhich he was applied." Lydgate smiled, but he was bent on beingcircumspect.
"Of course you cannot enter fully into the merits of this measure atpresent. But"—here Mr. Bulstrode began to speak with a more chiselledemphasis—"the subject is likely to be referred to the medical board of theinfirmary, and what I trust I may ask of you is, that in virtue of thecooperation between us which I now look forward to, you will not, so faras you are concerned, be influenced by my opponents in this matter." "I hope I shall have nothing to do with clerical disputes," saidLydgate. "The path I have chosen is to work well in my own profession."
"My responsibility, Mr. Lydgate, is of a broader kind. With me,indeed, this question is one of sacred accountableness; whereas with myopponents, I have good reason to say that it is an occasion for gratifyinga spirit of worldly opposition. But I shall not therefore drop one iota ofmy convictions, or cease to identify myself with that truth which an evilgeneration hates. I have devoted myself to this object of hospital-improvement, but I will boldly confess to you, Mr. Lydgate, that I shouldhave no interest in hospitals if I believed that nothing more wasconcerned therein than the cure of mortal diseases. I have anotherground of action, and in the face of persecution I will not conceal it."
Mr. Bulstrode's voice had become a loud and agitated whisper as hesaid the last words.
"There we certainly differ," said Lydgate. But he was not sorry thatthe door was now opened, and Mr. Vincy was announced. That floridsociable personage was become more interesting to him since he hadseen Rosamond. Not that, like her, he had been weaving any future inwhich their lots were united; but a man naturally remembers a charminggirl with pleasure, and is willing to dine where he may see her again.Before he took leave, Mr. Vincy had given that invitation which he hadbeen "in no hurry about," for Rosamond at breakfast had mentioned thatshe thought her uncle Featherstone had taken the new doctor into greatfavor.
Mr. Bulstrode, alone with his brother-in-law, poured himself out aglass of water, and opened a sandwich-box.
"I cannot persuade you to adopt my regimen, Vincy?"
"No, no; I've no opinion of that system. Life wants padding," saidMr. Vincy, unable to omit his portable theory. "However," he went on,accenting the word, as if to dismiss all irrelevance, "what I came here totalk about was a little affair of my young scapegrace, Fred's."
"That is a subject on which you and I are likely to take quite asdifferent views as on diet, Vincy."
"I hope not this time." (Mr. Vincy was resolved to be good-humored.)"The fact is, it's about a whim of old Featherstone's. Somebody has beencooking up a story out of spite, and telling it to the old man, to try to sethim against Fred. He's very fond of Fred, and is likely to do somethinghandsome for him; indeed he has as good as told Fred that he means toleave him his land, and that makes other people jealous."
"Vincy, I must repeat, that you will not get any concurrence from meas to the course you have pursued with your eldest son. It was entirelyfrom worldly vanity that you destined him for the Church: with a familyof three sons and four daughters, you were not warranted in devotingmoney to an expensive education which has succeeded in nothing but ingiving him extravagant idle habits. You are now reaping theconsequences."
To point out other people's errors was a duty that Mr. Bulstroderarely shrank from, but Mr. Vincy was not equally prepared to bepatient. When a man has the immediate prospect of being mayor, and isready, in the interests of commerce, to take up a firm attitude on politicsgenerally, he has naturally a sense of his importance to the framework ofthings which seems to throw questions of private conduct into thebackground. And this particular reproof irritated him more than anyother. It was eminently superfluous to him to be told that he was reapingthe consequences. But he felt his neck under Bulstrode's yoke; andthough he usually enjoyed kicking, he was anxious to refrain from thatrelief.
"As to that, Bulstrode, it's no use going back. I'm not one of yourpattern men, and I don't pretend to be. I couldn't foresee everything inthe trade; there wasn't a finer business in Middlemarch than ours, andthe lad was clever. My poor brother was in the Church, and would havedone well—had got preferment already, but that stomach fever took himoff: else he might have been a dean by this time. I think I was justified inwhat I tried to do for Fred. If you come to religion, it seems to me a manshouldn't want to carve out his meat to an ounce beforehand:—one musttrust a little to Providence and be generous. It's a good British feeling totry and raise your family a little: in my opinion, it's a father's duty togive his sons a fine chance."
"I don't wish to act otherwise than as your best friend, Vincy, when Isay that what you have been uttering just now is one mass of worldlinessand inconsistent folly."
"Very well," said Mr. Vincy, kicking in spite of resolutions, "I neverprofessed to be anything but worldly; and, what's more, I don't seeanybody else who is not worldly. I suppose you don't conduct businesson what you call unworldly principles. The only difference I see is thatone worldliness is a little bit honester than another."
"This kind of discussion is unfruitful, Vincy," said Mr. Bulstrode,who, finishing his sandwich, had thrown himself back in his chair, andshaded his eyes as if weary. "You had some more particular business."
"Yes, yes. The long and short of it is, somebody has told oldFeatherstone, giving you as the authority, that Fred has been borrowingor trying to borrow money on the prospect of his land. Of course younever said any such nonsense. But the old fellow will insist on it thatFred should bring him a denial in your handwriting; that is, just a bit ofa note saying you don't believe a word of such stuff, either of his havingborrowed or tried to borrow in such a fool's way. I suppose you can haveno objection to do that."
"Pardon me. I have an objection. I am by no means sure that yourson, in his recklessness and ignorance—I will use no severer word—hasnot tried to raise money by holding out his future prospects, or even thatsome one may not have been foolish enough to supply him on so vague apresumption: there is plenty of such lax money-lending as of other follyin the world."
"But Fred gives me his honor that he has never borrowed money onthe pretence of any understanding about his uncle's land. He is not a liar.I don't want to make him better than he is. I have blown him up well—nobody can say I wink at what he does. But he is not a liar. And I shouldhave thought—but I may be wrong—that there was no religion to hindera man from believing the best of a young fellow, when you don't knowworse. It seems to me it would be a poor sort of religion to put a spokein his wheel by refusing to say you don't believe such harm of him asyou've got no good reason to believe."
"I am not at all sure that I should be befriending your son bysmoothing his way to the future possession of Featherstone's property. Icannot regard wealth as a blessing to those who use it simply as aharvest for this world. You do not like to hear these things, Vincy, buton this occasion I feel called upon to tell you that I have no motive forfurthering such a disposition of property as that which you refer to. I donot shrink from saying that it will not tend to your son's eternal welfareor to the glory of God. Why then should you expect me to pen this kindof affidavit, which has no object but to keep up a foolish partiality andsecure a foolish bequest?"
"If you mean to hinder everybody from having money but saints andevangelists, you must give up some profitable partnerships, that's all Ican say," Mr. Vincy burst out very bluntly. "It may be for the glory ofGod, but it is not for the glory of the Middlemarch trade, that Plymdale'shouse uses those blue and green dyes it gets from the Brassingmanufactory; they rot the silk, that's all I know about it. Perhaps if otherpeople knew so much of the profit went to the glory of God, they mightlike it better. But I don't mind so much about that—I could get up apretty row, if I chose."
Mr. Bulstrode paused a little before he answered. "You pain me verymuch by speaking in this way, Vincy. I do not expect you to understandmy grounds of action—it is not an easy thing even to thread a path forprinciples in the intricacies of the world—still less to make the threadclear for the careless and the scoffing. You must remember, if youplease, that I stretch my tolerance towards you as my wife's brother, andthat it little becomes you to complain of me as withholding material helptowards the worldly position of your family. I must remind you that it isnot your own prudence or judgment that has enabled you to keep yourplace in the trade."
"Very likely not; but you have been no loser by my trade yet," saidMr. Vincy, thoroughly nettled (a result which was seldom much retardedby previous resolutions). "And when you married Harriet, I don't see howyou could expect that our families should not hang by the same nail. Ifyou've changed your mind, and want my family to come down in theworld, you'd better say so. I've never changed; I'm a plain Churchmannow, just as I used to be before doctrines came up. I take the world as Ifind it, in trade and everything else. I'm contented to be no worse thanmy neighbors. But if you want us to come down in the world, say so. Ishall know better what to do then."
"You talk unreasonably. Shall you come down in the world for wantof this letter about your son?"
"Well, whether or not, I consider it very unhandsome of you to refuseit. Such doings may be lined with religion, but outside they have a nasty,dog-in-the-manger look. You might as well slander Fred: it comes prettynear to it when you refuse to say you didn't set a slander going. It's thissort of thing—this tyrannical spirit, wanting to play bishop and bankereverywhere—it's this sort of thing makes a man's name stink."
"Vincy, if you insist on quarrelling with me, it will be exceedinglypainful to Harriet as well as myself," said Mr. Bulstrode, with a triflemore eagerness and paleness than usual.
"I don't want to quarrel. It's for my interest—and perhaps for yourstoo—that we should be friends. I bear you no grudge; I think no worse ofyou than I do of other people. A man who half starves himself, and goesthe length in family prayers, and so on, that you do, believes in hisreligion whatever it may be: you could turn over your capital just as fastwith cursing and swearing:—plenty of fellows do. You like to be master,there's no denying that; you must be first chop in heaven, else you won'tlike it much. But you're my sister's husband, and we ought to sticktogether; and if I know Harriet, she'll consider it your fault if we quarrelbecause you strain at a gnat in this way, and refuse to do Fred a goodturn. And I don't mean to say I shall bear it well. I consider itunhandsome."
Mr. Vincy rose, began to button his great-coat, and looked steadily athis brother-in-law, meaning to imply a demand for a decisive answer.
