"Why should you bring me into the matter? I never see Mrs.Casaubon, and am not likely to see her, since she is at Freshitt. I nevergo there. It is Tory ground, where I and the 'Pioneer' are no morewelcome than a poacher and his gun."
The fact was that Will had been made the more susceptible byobserving that Mr. Brooke, instead of wishing him, as before, to come tothe Grange oftener than was quite agreeable to himself, seemed now tocontrive that he should go there as little as possible. This was a shufflingconcession of Mr. Brooke's to Sir James Chettam's indignantremonstrance; and Will, awake to the slightest hint in this direction,concluded that he was to be kept away from the Grange on Dorothea'saccount. Her friends, then, regarded him with some suspicion? Theirfears were quite superfluous: they were very much mistaken if theyimagined that he would put himself forward as a needy adventurer tryingto win the favor of a rich woman.
Until now Will had never fully seen the chasm between himself andDorothea—until now that he was come to the brink of it, and saw her onthe other side. He began, not without some inward rage, to think ofgoing away from the neighborhood: it would be impossible for him toshow any further interest in Dorothea without subjecting himself todisagreeable imputations—perhaps even in her mind, which others mighttry to poison.
"We are forever divided," said Will. "I might as well be at Rome; shewould be no farther from me." But what we call our despair is often onlythe painful eagerness of unfed hope. There were plenty of reasons whyhe should not go—public reasons why he should not quit his post at thiscrisis, leaving Mr. Brooke in the lurch when he needed "coaching" for theelection, and when there was so much canvassing, direct and indirect, tobe carried on. Will could not like to leave his own chessmen in the heatof a game; and any candidate on the right side, even if his brain andmarrow had been as soft as was consistent with a gentlemanly bearing,might help to turn a majority. To coach Mr. Brooke and keep himsteadily to the idea that he must pledge himself to vote for the actualReform Bill, instead of insisting on his independence and power ofpulling up in time, was not an easy task. Mr. Farebrother's prophecy of afourth candidate "in the bag" had not yet been fulfilled, neither theParliamentary Candidate Society nor any other power on the watch tosecure a reforming majority seeing a worthy nodus for interference whilethere was a second reforming candidate like Mr. Brooke, who might bereturned at his own expense; and the fight lay entirely between Pinkertonthe old Tory member, Bagster the new Whig member returned at the lastelection, and Brooke the future independent member, who was to fetterhimself for this occasion only. Mr. Hawley and his party would bend alltheir forces to the return of Pinkerton, and Mr. Brooke's success mustdepend either on plumpers which would leave Bagster in the rear, or onthe new minting of Tory votes into reforming votes. The latter means, ofcourse, would be preferable.
This prospect of converting votes was a dangerous distraction to Mr.Brooke: his impression that waverers were likely to be allured bywavering statements, and also the liability of his mind to stick afresh atopposing arguments as they turned up in his memory, gave Will Ladislawmuch trouble.
"You know there are tactics in these things," said Mr. Brooke;"meeting people half-way—tempering your ideas—saying, 'Well now,there's something in that,' and so on. I agree with you that this is apeculiar occasion—the country with a will of its own—political unions—that sort of thing—but we sometimes cut with rather too sharp a knife,Ladislaw. These ten-pound householders, now: why ten? Draw the linesomewhere—yes: but why just at ten? That's a difficult question, now, ifyou go into it."
"Of course it is," said Will, impatiently. "But if you are to wait till weget a logical Bill, you must put yourself forward as a revolutionist, andthen Middlemarch would not elect you, I fancy. As for trimming, this isnot a time for trimming."
Mr. Brooke always ended by agreeing with Ladislaw, who stillappeared to him a sort of Burke with a leaven of Shelley; but after aninterval the wisdom of his own methods reasserted itself, and he wasagain drawn into using them with much hopefulness. At this stage ofaffairs he was in excellent spirits, which even supported him under largeadvances of money; for his powers of convincing and persuading had notyet been, tested by anything more difficult than a chairman's speechintroducing other orators, or a dialogue with a Middlemarch voter, fromwhich he came away with a sense that he was a tactician by nature, andthat it was a pity he had not gone earlier into this kind of thing. He wasa little conscious of defeat, however, with Mr. Mawmsey, a chiefrepresentative in Middlemarch of that great social power, the retailtrader, and naturally one of the most doubtful voters in the borough—willing for his own part to supply an equal quality of teas and sugars toreformer and anti-reformer, as well as to agree impartially with both, andfeeling like the burgesses of old that this necessity of electing memberswas a great burthen to a town; for even if there were no danger inholding out hopes to all parties beforehand, there would be the painfulnecessity at last of disappointing respectable people whose names wereon his books. He was accustomed to receive large orders from Mr.Brooke of Tipton; but then, there were many of Pinkerton's committeewhose opinions had a great weight of grocery on their side. Mr.Mawmsey thinking that Mr. Brooke, as not too "clever in his intellects,"was the more likely to forgive a grocer who gave a hostile vote underpressure, had become confidential in his back parlor.
"As to Reform, sir, put it in a family light," he said, rattling the smallsilver in his pocket, and smiling affably. "Will it support Mrs. Mawmsey,and enable her to bring up six children when I am no more? I put thequestion fictiously, knowing what must be the answer. Very well, sir. Iask you what, as a husband and a father, I am to do when gentlemencome to me and say, 'Do as you like, Mawmsey; but if you vote againstus, I shall get my groceries elsewhere: when I sugar my liquor I like tofeel that I am benefiting the country by maintaining tradesmen of theright color.' Those very words have been spoken to me, sir, in the verychair where you are now sitting. I don't mean by your honorable self,Mr. Brooke."
"No, no, no—that's narrow, you know. Until my butler complains tome of your goods, Mr. Mawmsey," said Mr. Brooke, soothingly, "until Ihear that you send bad sugars, spices—that sort of thing—I shall neverorder him to go elsewhere."
"Sir, I am your humble servant, and greatly obliged," said Mr.Mawmsey, feeling that politics were clearing up a little. "There would besome pleasure in voting for a gentleman who speaks in that honorablemanner."
"Well, you know, Mr. Mawmsey, you would find it the right thing toput yourself on our side. This Reform will touch everybody by-and-by—athoroughly popular measure—a sort of A, B, C, you know, that mustcome first before the rest can follow. I quite agree with you that you'vegot to look at the thing in a family light: but public spirit, now. We're allone family, you know—it's all one cupboard. Such a thing as a vote,now: why, it may help to make men's fortunes at the Cape—there's noknowing what may be the effect of a vote," Mr. Brooke ended, with asense of being a little out at sea, though finding it still enjoyable. ButMr. Mawmsey answered in a tone of decisive check.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I can't afford that. When I give a vote Imust know what I am doing; I must look to what will be the effects onmy till and ledger, speaking respectfully. Prices, I'll admit, are whatnobody can know the merits of; and the sudden falls after you've boughtin currants, which are a goods that will not keep—I've never; myself seeninto the ins and outs there; which is a rebuke to human pride. But as toone family, there's debtor and creditor, I hope; they're not going toreform that away; else I should vote for things staying as they are. Fewmen have less need to cry for change than I have, personally speaking—that is, for self and family. I am not one of those who have nothing tolose: I mean as to respectability both in parish and private business, andnoways in respect of your honorable self and custom, which you wasgood enough to say you would not withdraw from me, vote or no vote,while the article sent in was satisfactory."
After this conversation Mr. Mawmsey went up and boasted to hiswife that he had been rather too many for Brooke of Tipton, and that hedidn't mind so much now about going to the poll.
Mr. Brooke on this occasion abstained from boasting of his tactics toLadislaw, who for his part was glad enough to persuade himself that hehad no concern with any canvassing except the purely argumentativesort, and that he worked no meaner engine than knowledge. Mr. Brooke,necessarily, had his agents, who understood the nature of theMiddlemarch voter and the means of enlisting his ignorance on the sideof the Bill—which were remarkably similar to the means of enlisting it onthe side against the Bill. Will stopped his ears. Occasionally Parliament,like the rest of our lives, even to our eating and apparel, could hardly goon if our imaginations were too active about processes. There wereplenty of dirty-handed men in the world to do dirty business; and Willprotested to himself that his share in bringing Mr. Brooke through wouldbe quite innocent.
But whether he should succeed in that mode of contributing to themajority on the right side was very doubtful to him. He had written outvarious speeches and memoranda for speeches, but he had begun toperceive that Mr. Brooke's mind, if it had the burthen of rememberingany train of thought, would let it drop, run away in search of it, and noteasily come back again. To collect documents is one mode of servingyour country, and to remember the contents of a document is another.No! the only way in which Mr. Brooke could be coerced into thinking ofthe right arguments at the right time was to be well plied with them tillthey took up all the room in his brain. But here there was the difficultyof finding room, so many things having been taken in beforehand. Mr.Brooke himself observed that his ideas stood rather in his way when hewas speaking.
However, Ladislaw's coaching was forthwith to be put to the test, forbefore the day of nomination Mr. Brooke was to explain himself to theworthy electors of Middlemarch from the balcony of the White Hart,which looked out advantageously at an angle of the market-place,commanding a large area in front and two converging streets. It was afine May morning, and everything seemed hopeful: there was someprospect of an understanding between Bagster's committee and Brooke's,to which Mr. Bulstrode, Mr. Standish as a Liberal lawyer, and suchmanufacturers as Mr. Plymdale and Mr. Vincy, gave a solidity whichalmost counterbalanced Mr. Hawley and his associates who sat forPinkerton at the Green Dragon. Mr. Brooke, conscious of havingweakened the blasts of the "Trumpet" against him, by his reforms as alandlord in the last half year, and hearing himself cheered a little as hedrove into the town, felt his heart tolerably light under his buff-coloredwaistcoat. But with regard to critical occasions, it often happens that allmoments seem comfortably remote until the last.
"This looks well, eh?" said Mr. Brooke as the crowd gathered. "I shallhave a good audience, at any rate. I like this, now—this kind of publicmade up of one's own neighbors, you know."
The weavers and tanners of Middlemarch, unlike Mr. Mawmsey, hadnever thought of Mr. Brooke as a neighbor, and were not more attachedto him than if he had been sent in a box from London. But they listenedwithout much disturbance to the speakers who introduced the candidate,one of them—a political personage from Brassing, who came to tellMiddlemarch its duty—spoke so fully, that it was alarming to think whatthe candidate could find to say after him. Meanwhile the crowd becamedenser, and as the political personage neared the end of his speech, Mr.Brooke felt a remarkable change in his sensations while he still handledhis eye-glass, trifled with documents before him, and exchanged remarkswith his committee, as a man to whom the moment of summons wasindifferent.
"I'll take another glass of sherry, Ladislaw," he said, with an easy air,to Will, who was close behind him, and presently handed him thesupposed fortifier. It was ill-chosen; for Mr. Brooke was an abstemiousman, and to drink a second glass of sherry quickly at no great intervalfrom the first was a surprise to his system which tended to scatter hisenergies instead of collecting them. Pray pity him: so many Englishgentlemen make themselves miserable by speechifying on entirely privategrounds! whereas Mr. Brooke wished to serve his country by standing forParliament—which, indeed, may also be done on private grounds, butbeing once undertaken does absolutely demand some speechifying.
It was not about the beginning of his speech that Mr. Brooke was atall anxious; this, he felt sure, would be all right; he should have it quitepat, cut out as neatly as a set of couplets from Pope. Embarking wouldbe easy, but the vision of open sea that might come after was alarming."And questions, now," hinted the demon just waking up in his stomach,"somebody may put questions about the schedules.—Ladislaw," hecontinued, aloud, "just hand me the memorandum of the schedules."
When Mr. Brooke presented himself on the balcony, the cheers werequite loud enough to counterbalance the yells, groans, brayings, andother expressions of adverse theory, which were so moderate that Mr.Standish (decidedly an old bird) observed in the ear next to him, "Thislooks dangerous, by God! Hawley has got some deeper plan than this."Still, the cheers were exhilarating, and no candidate could look moreamiable than Mr. Brooke, with the memorandum in his breast-pocket,his left hand on the rail of the balcony, and his right trifling with his eye-glass. The striking points in his appearance were his buff waistcoat,short-clipped blond hair, and neutral physiognomy. He began with someconfidence.
"Gentlemen—Electors of Middlemarch!"
This was so much the right thing that a little pause after it seemednatural.
"I'm uncommonly glad to be here—I was never so proud and happyin my life—never so happy, you know."
This was a bold figure of speech, but not exactly the right thing; for,unhappily, the pat opening had slipped away—even couplets from Popemay be but "fallings from us, vanishings," when fear clutches us, and aglass of sherry is hurrying like smoke among our ideas. Ladislaw, whostood at the window behind the speaker, thought, "it's all up now. Theonly chance is that, since the best thing won't always do, flounderingmay answer for once." Mr. Brooke, meanwhile, having lost other clews,fell back on himself and his qualifications—always an appropriategraceful subject for a candidate.
