Lydgate was late in setting out, but Dr. Sprague, the two othersurgeons, and several of the directors had arrived early; Mr. Bulstrode,treasurer and chairman, being among those who were still absent. Theconversation seemed to imply that the issue was problematical, and thata majority for Tyke was not so certain as had been generally supposed.The two physicians, for a wonder, turned out to be unanimous, orrather, though of different minds, they concurred in action. Dr. Sprague,the rugged and weighty, was, as every one had foreseen, an adherent ofMr. Farebrother. The Doctor was more than suspected of having noreligion, but somehow Middlemarch tolerated this deficiency in him as ifhe had been a Lord Chancellor; indeed it is probable that his professionalweight was the more believed in, the world-old association of clevernesswith the evil principle being still potent in the minds even of lady-patients who had the strictest ideas of frilling and sentiment. It wasperhaps this negation in the Doctor which made his neighbors call himhard-headed and dry-witted; conditions of texture which were also heldfavorable to the storing of judgments connected with drugs. At all events,it is certain that if any medical man had come to Middlemarch with thereputation of having very definite religious views, of being given toprayer, and of otherwise showing an active piety, there would have beena general presumption against his medical skill.
On this ground it was (professionally speaking) fortunate for Dr.Minchin that his religious sympathies were of a general kind, and suchas gave a distant medical sanction to all serious sentiment, whether ofChurch or Dissent, rather than any adhesion to particular tenets. If Mr.Bulstrode insisted, as he was apt to do, on the Lutheran doctrine ofjustification, as that by which a Church must stand or fall, Dr. Minchinin return was quite sure that man was not a mere machine or afortuitous conjunction of atoms; if Mrs. Wimple insisted on a particularprovidence in relation to her stomach complaint, Dr. Minchin for hispart liked to keep the mental windows open and objected to fixed limits;if the Unitarian brewer jested about the Athanasian Creed, Dr. Minchinquoted Pope's "Essay on Man." He objected to the rather free style ofanecdote in which Dr. Sprague indulged, preferring well-sanctionedquotations, and liking refinement of all kinds: it was generally knownthat he had some kinship to a bishop, and sometimes spent his holidaysat "the palace."
Dr. Minchin was soft-handed, pale-complexioned, and of roundedoutline, not to be distinguished from a mild clergyman in appearance:whereas Dr. Sprague was superfluously tall; his trousers got creased atthe knees, and showed an excess of boot at a time when straps seemednecessary to any dignity of bearing; you heard him go in and out, and upand down, as if he had come to see after the roofing. In short, he hadweight, and might be expected to grapple with a disease and throw it;while Dr. Minchin might be better able to detect it lurking and tocircumvent it. They enjoyed about equally the mysterious privilege ofmedical reputation, and concealed with much etiquette their contemptfor each other's skill. Regarding themselves as Middlemarch institutions,they were ready to combine against all innovators, and against non-professionals given to interference. On this ground they were both intheir hearts equally averse to Mr. Bulstrode, though Dr. Minchin hadnever been in open hostility with him, and never differed from himwithout elaborate explanation to Mrs. Bulstrode, who had found that Dr.Minchin alone understood her constitution. A layman who pried into theprofessional conduct of medical men, and was always obtruding hisreforms,—though he was less directly embarrassing to the two physiciansthan to the surgeon-apothecaries who attended paupers by contract, wasnevertheless offensive to the professional nostril as such; and Dr.Minchin shared fully in the new pique against Bulstrode, excited by hisapparent determination to patronize Lydgate. The long-establishedpractitioners, Mr. Wrench and Mr. Toller; were just now standing apartand having a friendly colloquy, in which they agreed that Lydgate was ajackanapes, just made to serve Bulstrode's purpose. To non-medicalfriends they had already concurred in praising the other youngpractitioner, who had come into the town on Mr. Peacock's retirementwithout further recommendation than his own merits and such argumentfor solid professional acquirement as might be gathered from his havingapparently wasted no time on other branches of knowledge. It was clearthat Lydgate, by not dispensing drugs, intended to cast imputations onhis equals, and also to obscure the limit between his own rank as ageneral practitioner and that of the physicians, who, in the interest ofthe profession, felt bound to maintain its various grades,—especiallyagainst a man who had not been to either of the English universities andenjoyed the absence of anatomical and bedside study there, but camewith a libellous pretension to experience in Edinburgh and Paris, whereobservation might be abundant indeed, but hardly sound.
Thus it happened that on this occasion Bulstrode became identifiedwith Lydgate, and Lydgate with Tyke; and owing to this variety ofinterchangeable names for the chaplaincy question, diverse minds wereenabled to form the same judgment concerning it.
Dr. Sprague said at once bluntly to the group assembled when heentered, "I go for Farebrother. A salary, with all my heart. But why takeit from the Vicar? He has none too much—has to insure his life, besideskeeping house, and doing a vicar's charities. Put forty pounds in hispocket and you'll do no harm. He's a good fellow, is Farebrother, with aslittle of the parson about him as will serve to carry orders."
"Ho, ho! Doctor," said old Mr. Powderell, a retired iron-monger ofsome standing—his interjection being something between a laugh and aParliamentary disapproval; "we must let you have your say. But what wehave to consider is not anybody's income—it's the souls of the poor sickpeople"—here Mr. Powderell's voice and face had a sincere pathos inthem. "He is a real Gospel preacher, is Mr. Tyke. I should vote againstmy conscience if I voted against Mr. Tyke—I should indeed."
"Mr. Tyke's opponents have not asked any one to vote against hisconscience, I believe," said Mr. Hackbutt, a rich tanner of fluent speech,whose glittering spectacles and erect hair were turned with some severitytowards innocent Mr. Powderell. "But in my judgment it behoves us, asDirectors, to consider whether we will regard it as our whole business tocarry out propositions emanating from a single quarter. Will any memberof the committee aver that he would have entertained the idea ofdisplacing the gentleman who has always discharged the function ofchaplain here, if it had not been suggested to him by parties whosedisposition it is to regard every institution of this town as a machineryfor carrying out their own views? I tax no man's motives: let them liebetween himself and a higher Power; but I do say, that there areinfluences at work here which are incompatible with genuineindependence, and that a crawling servility is usually dictated bycircumstances which gentlemen so conducting themselves could notafford either morally or financially to avow. I myself am a layman, but Ihave given no inconsiderable attention to the divisions in the Churchand—"
"Oh, damn the divisions!" burst in Mr. Frank Hawley, lawyer andtown-clerk, who rarely presented himself at the board, but now looked inhurriedly, whip in hand. "We have nothing to do with them here.Farebrother has been doing the work—what there was—without pay, andif pay is to be given, it should be given to him. I call it a confounded jobto take the thing away from Farebrother."
"I think it would be as well for gentlemen not to give their remarks apersonal bearing," said Mr. Plymdale. "I shall vote for the appointment ofMr. Tyke, but I should not have known, if Mr. Hackbutt hadn't hinted it,that I was a Servile Crawler."
"I disclaim any personalities. I expressly said, if I may be allowed torepeat, or even to conclude what I was about to say—"
"Ah, here's Minchin!" said Mr. Frank Hawley; at which everybodyturned away from Mr. Hackbutt, leaving him to feel the uselessness ofsuperior gifts in Middlemarch. "Come, Doctor, I must have you on theright side, eh?"
"I hope so," said Dr. Minchin, nodding and shaking hands here andthere; "at whatever cost to my feelings."
"If there's any feeling here, it should be feeling for the man who isturned out, I think," said Mr. Frank Hawley.
"I confess I have feelings on the other side also. I have a dividedesteem," said Dr. Minchin, rubbing his hands. "I consider Mr. Tyke anexemplary man—none more so—and I believe him to be proposed fromunimpeachable motives. I, for my part, wish that I could give him myvote. But I am constrained to take a view of the case which gives thepreponderance to Mr. Farebrother's claims. He is an amiable man, anable preacher, and has been longer among us."
Old Mr. Powderell looked on, sad and silent. Mr. Plymdale settledhis cravat, uneasily.
"You don't set up Farebrother as a pattern of what a clergyman oughtto be, I hope," said Mr. Larcher, the eminent carrier, who had just comein. "I have no ill-will towards him, but I think we owe something to thepublic, not to speak of anything higher, in these appointments. In myopinion Farebrother is too lax for a clergyman. I don't wish to bring upparticulars against him; but he will make a little attendance here go asfar as he can."
"And a devilish deal better than too much," said Mr. Hawley, whosebad language was notorious in that part of the county. "Sick people can'tbear so much praying and preaching. And that methodistical sort ofreligion is bad for the spirits—bad for the inside, eh?" he added, turningquickly round to the four medical men who were assembled.
But any answer was dispensed with by the entrance of threegentlemen, with whom there were greetings more or less cordial. Thesewere the Reverend Edward Thesiger, Rector of St. Peter's, Mr. Bulstrode,and our friend Mr. Brooke of Tipton, who had lately allowed himself tobe put on the board of directors in his turn, but had never beforeattended, his attendance now being due to Mr. Bulstrode's exertions.Lydgate was the only person still expected.
Every one now sat down, Mr. Bulstrode presiding, pale and self-restrained as usual. Mr. Thesiger, a moderate evangelical, wished for theappointment of his friend Mr. Tyke, a zealous able man, who, officiatingat a chapel of ease, had not a cure of souls too extensive to leave himample time for the new duty. It was desirable that chaplaincies of thiskind should be entered on with a fervent intention: they were peculiaropportunities for spiritual influence; and while it was good that a salaryshould be allotted, there was the more need for scrupulous watching lestthe office should be perverted into a mere question of salary. Mr.Thesiger's manner had so much quiet propriety that objectors could onlysimmer in silence.
Mr. Brooke believed that everybody meant well in the matter. Hehad not himself attended to the affairs of the Infirmary, though he had astrong interest in whatever was for the benefit of Middlemarch, and wasmost happy to meet the gentlemen present on any public question—"anypublic question, you know," Mr. Brooke repeated, with his nod of perfectunderstanding. "I am a good deal occupied as a magistrate, and in thecollection of documentary evidence, but I regard my time as being at thedisposal of the public—and, in short, my friends have convinced me thata chaplain with a salary—a salary, you know—is a very good thing, and Iam happy to be able to come here and vote for the appointment of Mr.Tyke, who, I understand, is an unexceptionable man, apostolic andeloquent and everything of that kind—and I am the last man to withholdmy vote—under the circumstances, you know."
"It seems to me that you have been crammed with one side of thequestion, Mr. Brooke," said Mr. Frank Hawley, who was afraid ofnobody, and was a Tory suspicious of electioneering intentions. "Youdon't seem to know that one of the worthiest men we have has beendoing duty as chaplain here for years without pay, and that Mr. Tyke isproposed to supersede him."
"Excuse me, Mr. Hawley," said Mr. Bulstrode. "Mr. Brooke has beenfully informed of Mr. Farebrother's character and position."
"By his enemies," flashed out Mr. Hawley.
"I trust there is no personal hostility concerned here," said Mr.Thesiger.
"I'll swear there is, though," retorted Mr. Hawley.
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Bulstrode, in a subdued tone, "the merits ofthe question may be very briefly stated, and if any one present doubtsthat every gentleman who is about to give his vote has not been fullyinformed, I can now recapitulate the considerations that should weigh oneither side."
"I don't see the good of that," said Mr. Hawley. "I suppose we allknow whom we mean to vote for. Any man who wants to do justice doesnot wait till the last minute to hear both sides of the question. I have notime to lose, and I propose that the matter be put to the vote at once."
A brief but still hot discussion followed before each person wrote"Tyke" or "Farebrother" on a piece of paper and slipped it into a glasstumbler; and in the mean time Mr. Bulstrode saw Lydgate enter.
"I perceive that the votes are equally divided at present," said Mr.Bulstrode, in a clear biting voice. Then, looking up at Lydgate—
"There is a casting-vote still to be given. It is yours, Mr. Lydgate: willyou be good enough to write?"
"The thing is settled now," said Mr. Wrench, rising. "We all knowhow Mr. Lydgate will vote."
"You seem to speak with some peculiar meaning, sir," said Lydgate,rather defiantly, and keeping his pencil suspended.
"I merely mean that you are expected to vote with Mr. Bulstrode. Doyou regard that meaning as offensive?"
"It may be offensive to others. But I shall not desist from voting withhim on that account." Lydgate immediately wrote down "Tyke."
So the Rev. Walter Tyke became chaplain to the Infirmary, andLydgate continued to work with Mr. Bulstrode. He was really uncertainwhether Tyke were not the more suitable candidate, and yet hisconsciousness told him that if he had been quite free from indirect biashe should have voted for Mr. Farebrother. The affair of the chaplaincyremained a sore point in his memory as a case in which this pettymedium of Middlemarch had been too strong for him. How could a manbe satisfied with a decision between such alternatives and under suchcircumstances? No more than he can be satisfied with his hat, which hehas chosen from among such shapes as the resources of the age offerhim, wearing it at best with a resignation which is chiefly supported bycomparison.
