But in this doubtful stage of Lydgate's introduction he was helped bywhat we mortals rashly call good fortune. I suppose no doctor ever camenewly to a place without making cures that surprised somebody—cureswhich may be called fortune's testimonials, and deserve as much creditas the written or printed kind. Various patients got well while Lydgatewas attending them, some even of dangerous illnesses; and it wasremarked that the new doctor with his new ways had at least the meritof bringing people back from the brink of death. The trash talked onsuch occasions was the more vexatious to Lydgate, because it gaveprecisely the sort of prestige which an incompetent and unscrupulousman would desire, and was sure to be imputed to him by the simmeringdislike of the other medical men as an encouragement on his own part ofignorant puffing. But even his proud outspokenness was checked by thediscernment that it was as useless to fight against the interpretations ofignorance as to whip the fog; and "good fortune" insisted on using thoseinterpretations.
Mrs. Larcher having just become charitably concerned aboutalarming symptoms in her charwoman, when Dr. Minchin called, askedhim to see her then and there, and to give her a certificate for theInfirmary; whereupon after examination he wrote a statement of the caseas one of tumor, and recommended the bearer Nancy Nash as an out-patient. Nancy, calling at home on her way to the Infirmary, allowed thestay maker and his wife, in whose attic she lodged, to read Dr. Minchin'spaper, and by this means became a subject of compassionateconversation in the neighboring shops of Churchyard Lane as beingafflicted with a tumor at first declared to be as large and hard as a duck'segg, but later in the day to be about the size of "your fist." Most hearersagreed that it would have to be cut out, but one had known of oil andanother of "squitchineal" as adequate to soften and reduce any lump inthe body when taken enough of into the inside—the oil by gradually"soopling," the squitchineal by eating away.
Meanwhile when Nancy presented herself at the Infirmary, ithappened to be one of Lydgate's days there. After questioning andexamining her, Lydgate said to the house-surgeon in an undertone, "It'snot tumor: it's cramp." He ordered her a blister and some steel mixture,and told her to go home and rest, giving her at the same time a note toMrs. Larcher, who, she said, was her best employer, to testify that shewas in need of good food.
But by-and-by Nancy, in her attic, became portentously worse, thesupposed tumor having indeed given way to the blister, but onlywandered to another region with angrier pain. The staymaker's wife wentto fetch Lydgate, and he continued for a fortnight to attend Nancy in herown home, until under his treatment she got quite well and went to workagain. But the case continued to be described as one of tumor inChurchyard Lane and other streets—nay, by Mrs. Larcher also; for whenLydgate's remarkable cure was mentioned to Dr. Minchin, he naturallydid not like to say, "The case was not one of tumor, and I was mistakenin describing it as such," but answered, "Indeed! ah! I saw it was asurgical case, not of a fatal kind." He had been inwardly annoyed,however, when he had asked at the Infirmary about the woman he hadrecommended two days before, to hear from the house-surgeon, ayoungster who was not sorry to vex Minchin with impunity, exactly whathad occurred: he privately pronounced that it was indecent in a generalpractitioner to contradict a physician's diagnosis in that open manner,and afterwards agreed with Wrench that Lydgate was disagreeablyinattentive to etiquette. Lydgate did not make the affair a ground forvaluing himself or (very particularly) despising Minchin, suchrectification of misjudgments often happening among men of equalqualifications. But report took up this amazing case of tumor, not clearlydistinguished from cancer, and considered the more awful for being ofthe wandering sort; till much prejudice against Lydgate's method as todrugs was overcome by the proof of his marvellous skill in the speedyrestoration of Nancy Nash after she had been rolling and rolling inagonies from the presence of a tumor both hard and obstinate, butnevertheless compelled to yield.
How could Lydgate help himself? It is offensive to tell a lady whenshe is expressing her amazement at your skill, that she is altogethermistaken and rather foolish in her amazement. And to have entered intothe nature of diseases would only have added to his breaches of medicalpropriety. Thus he had to wince under a promise of success given by thatignorant praise which misses every valid quality.
In the case of a more conspicuous patient, Mr. Borthrop Trumbull,Lydgate was conscious of having shown himself something better than anevery-day doctor, though here too it was an equivocal advantage that hewon. The eloquent auctioneer was seized with pneumonia, and havingbeen a patient of Mr. Peacock's, sent for Lydgate, whom he hadexpressed his intention to patronize. Mr Trumbull was a robust man, agood subject for trying the expectant theory upon—watching the courseof an interesting disease when left as much as possible to itself, so thatthe stages might be noted for future guidance; and from the air withwhich he described his sensations Lydgate surmised that he would like tobe taken into his medical man's confidence, and be represented as apartner in his own cure. The auctioneer heard, without much surprise,that his was a constitution which (always with due watching) might beleft to itself, so as to offer a beautiful example of a disease with all itsphases seen in clear delineation, and that he probably had the rarestrength of mind voluntarily to become the test of a rational procedure,and thus make the disorder of his pulmonary functions a general benefitto society.
Mr. Trumbull acquiesced at once, and entered strongly into the viewthat an illness of his was no ordinary occasion for medical science.
"Never fear, sir; you are not speaking to one who is altogetherignorant of the vis medicatrix," said he, with his usual superiority ofexpression, made rather pathetic by difficulty of breathing. And he wentwithout shrinking through his abstinence from drugs, much sustained byapplication of the thermometer which implied the importance of histemperature, by the sense that he furnished objects for the microscope,and by learning many new words which seemed suited to the dignity ofhis secretions. For Lydgate was acute enough to indulge him with a littletechnical talk.
It may be imagined that Mr. Trumbull rose from his couch with adisposition to speak of an illness in which he had manifested thestrength of his mind as well as constitution; and he was not backward inawarding credit to the medical man who had discerned the quality ofpatient he had to deal with. The auctioneer was not an ungenerous man,and liked to give others their due, feeling that he could afford it. He hadcaught the words "expectant method," and rang chimes on this and otherlearned phrases to accompany the assurance that Lydgate "knew a thingor two more than the rest of the doctors—was far better versed in thesecrets of his profession than the majority of his compeers."
This had happened before the affair of Fred Vincy's illness had givento Mr. Wrench's enmity towards Lydgate more definite personal ground.The new-comer already threatened to be a nuisance in the shape ofrivalry, and was certainly a nuisance in the shape of practical criticism orreflections on his hard-driven elders, who had had something else to dothan to busy themselves with untried notions. His practice had spread inone or two quarters, and from the first the report of his high family hadled to his being pretty generally invited, so that the other medical menhad to meet him at dinner in the best houses; and having to meet a manwhom you dislike is not observed always to end in a mutual attachment.There was hardly ever so much unanimity among them as in the opinionthat Lydgate was an arrogant young fellow, and yet ready for the sake ofultimately predominating to show a crawling subservience to Bulstrode.That Mr. Farebrother, whose name was a chief flag of the anti-Bulstrodeparty, always defended Lydgate and made a friend of him, was referredto Farebrother's unaccountable way of fighting on both sides.
Here was plenty of preparation for the outburst of professionaldisgust at the announcement of the laws Mr. Bulstrode was laying downfor the direction of the New Hospital, which were the more exasperatingbecause there was no present possibility of interfering with his will andpleasure, everybody except Lord Medlicote having refused help towardsthe building, on the ground that they preferred giving to the OldInfirmary. Mr. Bulstrode met all the expenses, and had ceased to besorry that he was purchasing the right to carry out his notions ofimprovement without hindrance from prejudiced coadjutors; but he hadhad to spend large sums, and the building had lingered. Caleb Garth hadundertaken it, had failed during its progress, and before the interiorfittings were begun had retired from the management of the business;and when referring to the Hospital he often said that however Bulstrodemight ring if you tried him, he liked good solid carpentry and masonry,and had a notion both of drains and chimneys. In fact, the Hospital hadbecome an object of intense interest to Bulstrode, and he would willinglyhave continued to spare a large yearly sum that he might rule itdictatorially without any Board; but he had another favorite object whichalso required money for its accomplishment: he wished to buy some landin the neighborhood of Middlemarch, and therefore he wished to getconsiderable contributions towards maintaining the Hospital. Meanwhilehe framed his plan of management. The Hospital was to be reserved forfever in all its forms; Lydgate was to be chief medical superintendent,that he might have free authority to pursue all comparative investigationswhich his studies, particularly in Paris, had shown him the importanceof, the other medical visitors having a consultative influence, but nopower to contravene Lydgate's ultimate decisions; and the generalmanagement was to be lodged exclusively in the hands of five directorsassociated with Mr. Bulstrode, who were to have votes in the ratio oftheir contributions, the Board itself filling up any vacancy in itsnumbers, and no mob of small contributors being admitted to a share ofgovernment.
There was an immediate refusal on the part of every medical man inthe town to become a visitor at the Fever Hospital.
"Very well," said Lydgate to Mr. Bulstrode, "we have a capital house-surgeon and dispenser, a clear-headed, neat-handed fellow; we'll getWebbe from Crabsley, as good a country practitioner as any of them, tocome over twice a-week, and in case of any exceptional operation,Protheroe will come from Brassing. I must work the harder, that's all,and I have given up my post at the Infirmary. The plan will flourish inspite of them, and then they'll be glad to come in. Things can't last asthey are: there must be all sorts of reform soon, and then young fellowsmay be glad to come and study here." Lydgate was in high spirits.
"I shall not flinch, you may depend upon it, Mr. Lydgate," said Mr.Bulstrode. "While I see you carrying out high intentions with vigor, youshall have my unfailing support. And I have humble confidence that theblessing which has hitherto attended my efforts against the spirit of evilin this town will not be withdrawn. Suitable directors to assist me I haveno doubt of securing. Mr. Brooke of Tipton has already given me hisconcurrence, and a pledge to contribute yearly: he has not specified thesum—probably not a great one. But he will be a useful member of theboard."
A useful member was perhaps to be defined as one who wouldoriginate nothing, and always vote with Mr. Bulstrode.
The medical aversion to Lydgate was hardly disguised now. NeitherDr. Sprague nor Dr. Minchin said that he disliked Lydgate's knowledge,or his disposition to improve treatment: what they disliked was hisarrogance, which nobody felt to be altogether deniable. They implied thathe was insolent, pretentious, and given to that reckless innovation forthe sake of noise and show which was the essence of the charlatan.
The word charlatan once thrown on the air could not be let drop. Inthose days the world was agitated about the wondrous doings of Mr. St.John Long, "noblemen and gentlemen" attesting his extraction of a fluidlike mercury from the temples of a patient.
Mr. Toller remarked one day, smilingly, to Mrs. Taft, that "Bulstrodehad found a man to suit him in Lydgate; a charlatan in religion is sure tolike other sorts of charlatans."
"Yes, indeed, I can imagine," said Mrs. Taft, keeping the number ofthirty stitches carefully in her mind all the while; "there are so many ofthat sort. I remember Mr. Cheshire, with his irons, trying to make peoplestraight when the Almighty had made them crooked."
"No, no," said Mr. Toller, "Cheshire was all right—all fair and aboveboard. But there's St. John Long—that's the kind of fellow we call acharlatan, advertising cures in ways nobody knows anything about: afellow who wants to make a noise by pretending to go deeper than otherpeople. The other day he was pretending to tap a man's brain and getquicksilver out of it."
"Good gracious! what dreadful trifling with people's constitutions!"said Mrs. Taft.
After this, it came to be held in various quarters that Lydgate playedeven with respectable constitutions for his own purposes, and how muchmore likely that in his flighty experimenting he should make sixes andsevens of hospital patients. Especially it was to be expected, as thelandlady of the Tankard had said, that he would recklessly cut up theirdead bodies. For Lydgate having attended Mrs. Goby, who diedapparently of a heart-disease not very clearly expressed in the symptoms,too daringly asked leave of her relatives to open the body, and thus gavean offence quickly spreading beyond Parley Street, where that lady hadlong resided on an income such as made this association of her bodywith the victims of Burke and Hare a flagrant insult to her memory.
Affairs were in this stage when Lydgate opened the subject of theHospital to Dorothea. We see that he was bearing enmity and sillymisconception with much spirit, aware that they were partly created byhis good share of success.
"They will not drive me away," he said, talking confidentially in Mr.Farebrother's study. "I have got a good opportunity here, for the ends Icare most about; and I am pretty sure to get income enough for ourwants. By-and-by I shall go on as quietly as possible: I have noseductions now away from home and work. And I am more and moreconvinced that it will be possible to demonstrate the homogeneous originof all the tissues. Raspail and others are on the same track, and I havebeen losing time."
