Middlemarch, Page 39

  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  "C'est beaucoup que le jugement des hommes sur les actions humaines; tot ou tard il devient efficace."--GUIZOT.

  Sir James Chettam could not look with any satisfaction on Mr. Brooke'snew courses; but it was easier to object than to hinder. Sir Jamesaccounted for his having come in alone one day to lunch with theCadwalladers by saying--

  "I can't talk to you as I want, before Celia: it might hurt her.Indeed, it would not be right."

  "I know what you mean--the 'Pioneer' at the Grange!" darted in Mrs.Cadwallader, almost before the last word was off her friend's tongue."It is frightful--this taking to buying whistles and blowing them ineverybody's hearing. Lying in bed all day and playing at dominoes,like poor Lord Plessy, would be more private and bearable."

  "I see they are beginning to attack our friend Brooke in the'Trumpet,'" said the Rector, lounging back and smiling easily, as hewould have done if he had been attacked himself. "There are tremendoussarcasms against a landlord not a hundred miles from Middlemarch, whoreceives his own rents, and makes no returns."

  "I do wish Brooke would leave that off," said Sir James, with hislittle frown of annoyance.

  "Is he really going to be put in nomination, though?" said Mr.Cadwallader. "I saw Farebrother yesterday--he's Whiggish himself,hoists Brougham and Useful Knowledge; that's the worst I know ofhim;--and he says that Brooke is getting up a pretty strong party.Bulstrode, the banker, is his foremost man. But he thinks Brooke wouldcome off badly at a nomination."

  "Exactly," said Sir James, with earnestness. "I have been inquiringinto the thing, for I've never known anything about Middlemarchpolitics before--the county being my business. What Brooke trusts to,is that they are going to turn out Oliver because he is a Peelite. ButHawley tells me that if they send up a Whig at all it is sure to beBagster, one of those candidates who come from heaven knows where, butdead against Ministers, and an experienced Parliamentary man. Hawley'srather rough: he forgot that he was speaking to me. He said if Brookewanted a pelting, he could get it cheaper than by going to thehustings."

  "I warned you all of it," said Mrs. Cadwallader, waving her handsoutward. "I said to Humphrey long ago, Mr. Brooke is going to make asplash in the mud. And now he has done it."

  "Well, he might have taken it into his head to marry," said the Rector."That would have been a graver mess than a little flirtation withpolitics."

  "He may do that afterwards," said Mrs. Cadwallader--"when he has comeout on the other side of the mud with an ague."

  "What I care for most is his own dignity," said Sir James. "Of courseI care the more because of the family. But he's getting on in lifenow, and I don't like to think of his exposing himself. They will beraking up everything against him."

  "I suppose it's no use trying any persuasion," said the Rector."There's such an odd mixture of obstinacy and changeableness in Brooke.Have you tried him on the subject?"

  "Well, no," said Sir James; "I feel a delicacy in appearing to dictate.But I have been talking to this young Ladislaw that Brooke is making afactotum of. Ladislaw seems clever enough for anything. I thought itas well to hear what he had to say; and he is against Brooke's standingthis time. I think he'll turn him round: I think the nomination may bestaved off."

  "I know," said Mrs. Cadwallader, nodding. "The independent memberhasn't got his speeches well enough by heart."

  "But this Ladislaw--there again is a vexatious business," said SirJames. "We have had him two or three times to dine at the Hall (youhave met him, by the bye) as Brooke's guest and a relation ofCasaubon's, thinking he was only on a flying visit. And now I findhe's in everybody's mouth in Middlemarch as the editor of the'Pioneer.' There are stories going about him as a quill-driving alien,a foreign emissary, and what not."

  "Casaubon won't like that," said the Rector.

  "There _is_ some foreign blood in Ladislaw," returned Sir James. "Ihope he won't go into extreme opinions and carry Brooke on."

  "Oh, he's a dangerous young sprig, that Mr. Ladislaw," said Mrs.Cadwallader, "with his opera songs and his ready tongue. A sort ofByronic hero--an amorous conspirator, it strikes me. And ThomasAquinas is not fond of him. I could see that, the day the picture wasbrought."

  "I don't like to begin on the subject with Casaubon," said Sir James."He has more right to interfere than I. But it's a disagreeable affairall round. What a character for anybody with decent connections toshow himself in!--one of those newspaper fellows! You have only tolook at Keck, who manages the 'Trumpet.' I saw him the other day withHawley. His writing is sound enough, I believe, but he's such a lowfellow, that I wished he had been on the wrong side."

  "What can you expect with these peddling Middlemarch papers?" said theRector. "I don't suppose you could get a high style of man anywhere tobe writing up interests he doesn't really care about, and for pay thathardly keeps him in at elbows."

  "Exactly: that makes it so annoying that Brooke should have put a manwho has a sort of connection with the family in a position of thatkind. For my part, I think Ladislaw is rather a fool for accepting."

  "It is Aquinas's fault," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "Why didn't he use hisinterest to get Ladislaw made an attache or sent to India? That is howfamilies get rid of troublesome sprigs."

  "There is no knowing to what lengths the mischief may go," said SirJames, anxiously. "But if Casaubon says nothing, what can I do?"

  "Oh my dear Sir James," said the Rector, "don't let us make too much ofall this. It is likely enough to end in mere smoke. After a month ortwo Brooke and this Master Ladislaw will get tired of each other;Ladislaw will take wing; Brooke will sell the 'Pioneer,' and everythingwill settle down again as usual."

  "There is one good chance--that he will not like to feel his moneyoozing away," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "If I knew the items of electionexpenses I could scare him. It's no use plying him with wide wordslike Expenditure: I wouldn't talk of phlebotomy, I would empty a pot ofleeches upon him. What we good stingy people don't like, is having oursixpences sucked away from us."

  "And he will not like having things raked up against him," said SirJames. "There is the management of his estate. They have begun uponthat already. And it really is painful for me to see. It is anuisance under one's very nose. I do think one is bound to do the bestfor one's land and tenants, especially in these hard times."

  "Perhaps the 'Trumpet' may rouse him to make a change, and some goodmay come of it all," said the Rector. "I know I should be glad. Ishould hear less grumbling when my tithe is paid. I don't know what Ishould do if there were not a modus in Tipton."

  "I want him to have a proper man to look after things--I want him totake on Garth again," said Sir James. "He got rid of Garth twelveyears ago, and everything has been going wrong since. I think ofgetting Garth to manage for me--he has made such a capital plan for mybuildings; and Lovegood is hardly up to the mark. But Garth would notundertake the Tipton estate again unless Brooke left it entirely tohim."

  "In the right of it too," said the Rector. "Garth is an independentfellow: an original, simple-minded fellow. One day, when he was doingsome valuation for me, he told me point-blank that clergymen seldomunderstood anything about business, and did mischief when they meddled;but he said it as quietly and respectfully as if he had been talking tome about sailors. He would make a different parish of Tipton, ifBrooke would let him manage. I wish, by the help of the 'Trumpet,' youcould bring that round."

  "If Dorothea had kept near her uncle, there would have been somechance," said Sir James. "She might have got some power over him intime, and she was always uneasy about the estate. She had wonderfullygood notions about such things. But now Casaubon takes her upentirely. Celia complains a good deal. We can hardly get her to dinewith us, since he had that fit." Sir James ended with a look of pityingdisgust, and Mrs. Cadwallader shrugged her shoulders as much as to saythat _she_ was not likely to see anything new in that direction.

  "Poor Casaubon!" the
Rector said. "That was a nasty attack. I thoughthe looked shattered the other day at the Archdeacon's."

  "In point of fact," resumed Sir James, not choosing to dwell on "fits,""Brooke doesn't mean badly by his tenants or any one else, but he hasgot that way of paring and clipping at expenses."

  "Come, that's a blessing," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "That helps him tofind himself in a morning. He may not know his own opinions, but hedoes know his own pocket."

  "I don't believe a man is in pocket by stinginess on his land," saidSir James.

  "Oh, stinginess may be abused like other virtues: it will not do tokeep one's own pigs lean," said Mrs. Cadwallader, who had risen to lookout of the window. "But talk of an independent politician and he willappear."

  "What! Brooke?" said her husband.

  "Yes. Now, you ply him with the 'Trumpet,' Humphrey; and I will putthe leeches on him. What will you do, Sir James?"

  "The fact is, I don't like to begin about it with Brooke, in our mutualposition; the whole thing is so unpleasant. I do wish people wouldbehave like gentlemen," said the good baronet, feeling that this was asimple and comprehensive programme for social well-being.

  "Here you all are, eh?" said Mr. Brooke, shuffling round and shakinghands. "I was going up to the Hall by-and-by, Chettam. But it'spleasant to find everybody, you know. Well, what do you think ofthings?--going on a little fast! It was true enough, what Lafittesaid--'Since yesterday, a century has passed away:'--they're in thenext century, you know, on the other side of the water. Going onfaster than we are."

  "Why, yes," said the Rector, taking up the newspaper. "Here is the'Trumpet' accusing you of lagging behind--did you see?"

  "Eh? no," said Mr. Brooke, dropping his gloves into his hat and hastilyadjusting his eye-glass. But Mr. Cadwallader kept the paper in hishand, saying, with a smile in his eyes--

  "Look here! all this is about a landlord not a hundred miles fromMiddlemarch, who receives his own rents. They say he is the mostretrogressive man in the county. I think you must have taught themthat word in the 'Pioneer.'"

  "Oh, that is Keck--an illiterate fellow, you know. Retrogressive, now!Come, that's capital. He thinks it means destructive: they want tomake me out a destructive, you know," said Mr. Brooke, with thatcheerfulness which is usually sustained by an adversary's ignorance.

  "I think he knows the meaning of the word. Here is a sharp stroke ortwo. If we had to describe a man who is retrogressive in the most evilsense of the word--we should say, he is one who would dub himself areformer of our constitution, while every interest for which he isimmediately responsible is going to decay: a philanthropist who cannotbear one rogue to be hanged, but does not mind five honest tenantsbeing half-starved: a man who shrieks at corruption, and keeps hisfarms at rack-rent: who roars himself red at rotten boroughs, and doesnot mind if every field on his farms has a rotten gate: a man veryopen-hearted to Leeds and Manchester, no doubt; he would give anynumber of representatives who will pay for their seats out of their ownpockets: what he objects to giving, is a little return on rent-days tohelp a tenant to buy stock, or an outlay on repairs to keep the weatherout at a tenant's barn-door or make his house look a little less likean Irish cottier's. But we all know the wag's definition of aphilanthropist: a man whose charity increases directly as the square ofthe distance. And so on. All the rest is to show what sort oflegislator a philanthropist is likely to make," ended the Rector,throwing down the paper, and clasping his hands at the back of hishead, while he looked at Mr. Brooke with an air of amused neutrality.

  "Come, that's rather good, you know," said Mr. Brooke, taking up thepaper and trying to bear the attack as easily as his neighbor did, butcoloring and smiling rather nervously; "that about roaring himself redat rotten boroughs--I never made a speech about rotten boroughs in mylife. And as to roaring myself red and that kind of thing--these mennever understand what is good satire. Satire, you know, should be trueup to a certain point. I recollect they said that in 'The Edinburgh'somewhere--it must be true up to a certain point."

  "Well, that is really a hit about the gates," said Sir James, anxiousto tread carefully. "Dagley complained to me the other day that hehadn't got a decent gate on his farm. Garth has invented a new patternof gate--I wish you would try it. One ought to use some of one'stimber in that way."

  "You go in for fancy farming, you know, Chettam," said Mr. Brooke,appearing to glance over the columns of the "Trumpet." "That's yourhobby, and you don't mind the expense."

  "I thought the most expensive hobby in the world was standing forParliament," said Mrs. Cadwallader. "They said the last unsuccessfulcandidate at Middlemarch--Giles, wasn't his name?--spent ten thousandpounds and failed because he did not bribe enough. What a bitterreflection for a man!"

  "Somebody was saying," said the Rector, laughingly, "that East Retfordwas nothing to Middlemarch, for bribery."

  "Nothing of the kind," said Mr. Brooke. "The Tories bribe, you know:Hawley and his set bribe with treating, hot codlings, and that sort ofthing; and they bring the voters drunk to the poll. But they are notgoing to have it their own way in future--not in future, you know.Middlemarch is a little backward, I admit--the freemen are a littlebackward. But we shall educate them--we shall bring them on, youknow. The best people there are on our side."

  "Hawley says you have men on your side who will do you harm," remarkedSir James. "He says Bulstrode the banker will do you harm."

  "And that if you got pelted," interposed Mrs. Cadwallader, "half therotten eggs would mean hatred of your committee-man. Good heavens!Think what it must be to be pelted for wrong opinions. And I seem toremember a story of a man they pretended to chair and let him fall intoa dust-heap on purpose!"

  "Pelting is nothing to their finding holes in one's coat," said theRector. "I confess that's what I should be afraid of, if we parsonshad to stand at the hustings for preferment. I should be afraid oftheir reckoning up all my fishing days. Upon my word, I think thetruth is the hardest missile one can be pelted with."

  "The fact is," said Sir James, "if a man goes into public life he mustbe prepared for the consequences. He must make himself proof againstcalumny."

  "My dear Chettam, that is all very fine, you know," said Mr. Brooke."But how will you make yourself proof against calumny? You should readhistory--look at ostracism, persecution, martyrdom, and that kind ofthing. They always happen to the best men, you know. But what is thatin Horace?--'fiat justitia, ruat . . . something or other."

  "Exactly," said Sir James, with a little more heat than usual. "What Imean by being proof against calumny is being able to point to the factas a contradiction."

  "And it is not martyrdom to pay bills that one has run into one'sself," said Mrs. Cadwallader.

  But it was Sir James's evident annoyance that most stirred Mr. Brooke."Well, you know, Chettam," he said, rising, taking up his hat andleaning on his stick, "you and I have a different system. You are allfor outlay with your farms. I don't want to make out that my system isgood under all circumstances--under all circumstances, you know."

  "There ought to be a new valuation made from time to time," said SirJames. "Returns are very well occasionally, but I like a fairvaluation. What do you say, Cadwallader?"

  "I agree with you. If I were Brooke, I would choke the 'Trumpet' atonce by getting Garth to make a new valuation of the farms, and givinghim carte blanche about gates and repairs: that's my view of thepolitical situation," said the Rector, broadening himself by stickinghis thumbs in his armholes, and laughing towards Mr. Brooke.

  "That's a showy sort of thing to do, you know," said Mr. Brooke. "ButI should like you to tell me of another landlord who has distressed histenants for arrears as little as I have. I let the old tenants stayon. I'm uncommonly easy, let me tell you, uncommonly easy. I have myown ideas, and I take my stand on them, you know. A man who does thatis always charged with eccentricity, inconsistency, and that kind ofthing. When I change my line of action, I shall follow my own id
eas."

  After that, Mr. Brooke remembered that there was a packet which he hadomitted to send off from the Grange, and he bade everybody hurriedlygood-by.

  "I didn't want to take a liberty with Brooke," said Sir James; "I seehe is nettled. But as to what he says about old tenants, in point offact no new tenant would take the farms on the present terms."

  "I have a notion that he will be brought round in time," said theRector. "But you were pulling one way, Elinor, and we were pullinganother. You wanted to frighten him away from expense, and we want tofrighten him into it. Better let him try to be popular and see thathis character as a landlord stands in his way. I don't think itsignifies two straws about the 'Pioneer,' or Ladislaw, or Brooke'sspeechifying to the Middlemarchers. But it does signify about theparishioners in Tipton being comfortable."

  "Excuse me, it is you two who are on the wrong tack," said Mrs.Cadwallader. "You should have proved to him that he loses money by badmanagement, and then we should all have pulled together. If you puthim a-horseback on politics, I warn you of the consequences. It wasall very well to ride on sticks at home and call them ideas."