Middlemarch

CHAPTER XL.

Wise in his daily work was he: To fruits of diligence, And not to faiths or polity, He plied his utmost sense. These perfect in their little parts, Whose work is all their prize-- Without them how could laws, or arts, Or towered cities rise?

In watching effects, if only of an electric battery, it is oftennecessary to change our place and examine a particular mixture or groupat some distance from the point where the movement we are interested inwas set up. The group I am moving towards is at Caleb Garth'sbreakfast-table in the large parlor where the maps and desk were:father, mother, and five of the children. Mary was just now at homewaiting for a situation, while Christy, the boy next to her, wasgetting cheap learning and cheap fare in Scotland, having to hisfather's disappointment taken to books instead of that sacred calling”business.”

The letters had come--nine costly letters, for which the postman hadbeen paid three and twopence, and Mr. Garth was forgetting his tea andtoast while he read his letters and laid them open one above the other,sometimes swaying his head slowly, sometimes screwing up his mouth ininward debate, but not forgetting to cut off a large red seal unbroken,which Letty snatched up like an eager terrier.

The talk among the rest went on unrestrainedly, for nothing disturbedCaleb's absorption except shaking the table when he was writing.

Two letters of the nine had been for Mary. After reading them, she hadpassed them to her mother, and sat playing with her tea-spoon absently,till with a sudden recollection she returned to her sewing, which shehad kept on her lap during breakfast.

”Oh, don't sew, Mary!” said Ben, pulling her arm down. ”Make me apeacock with this bread-crumb.” He had been kneading a small mass forthe purpose.

”No, no, Mischief!” said Mary, good-humoredly, while she pricked hishand lightly with her needle. ”Try and mould it yourself: you haveseen me do it often enough. I must get this sewing done. It is forRosamond Vincy: she is to be married next week, and she can't bemarried without this handkerchief.” Mary ended merrily, amused withthe last notion.

”Why can't she, Mary?” said Letty, seriously interested in thismystery, and pushing her head so close to her sister that Mary nowturned the threatening needle towards Letty's nose.

”Because this is one of a dozen, and without it there would only beeleven,” said Mary, with a grave air of explanation, so that Letty sankback with a sense of knowledge.

”Have you made up your mind, my dear?” said Mrs. Garth, laying theletters down.

”I shall go to the school at York,” said Mary. ”I am less unfit toteach in a school than in a family. I like to teach classes best.And, you see, I must teach: there is nothing else to be done.”

”Teaching seems to me the most delightful work in the world,” said Mrs.Garth, with a touch of rebuke in her tone. ”I could understand yourobjection to it if you had not knowledge enough, Mary, or if youdisliked children.”

”I suppose we never quite understand why another dislikes what we like,mother,” said Mary, rather curtly. ”I am not fond of a schoolroom: Ilike the outside world better. It is a very inconvenient fault ofmine.”

”It must be very stupid to be always in a girls' school,” said Alfred.”Such a set of nincompoops, like Mrs. Ballard's pupils walking two andtwo.”

”And they have no games worth playing at,” said Jim. ”They can neitherthrow nor leap. I don't wonder at Mary's not liking it.”

”What is that Mary doesn't like, eh?” said the father, looking over hisspectacles and pausing before he opened his next letter.

”Being among a lot of nincompoop girls,” said Alfred.

”Is it the situation you had heard of, Mary?” said Caleb, gently,looking at his daughter.

”Yes, father: the school at York. I have determined to take it. It isquite the best. Thirty-five pounds a-year, and extra pay for teachingthe smallest strummers at the piano.”

”Poor child! I wish she could stay at home with us, Susan,” saidCaleb, looking plaintively at his wife.

”Mary would not be happy without doing her duty,” said Mrs. Garth,magisterially, conscious of having done her own.

”It wouldn't make me happy to do such a nasty duty as that,” saidAlfred--at which Mary and her father laughed silently, but Mrs. Garthsaid, gravely--

”Do find a fitter word than nasty, my dear Alfred, for everything thatyou think disagreeable. And suppose that Mary could help you to go toMr. Hanmer's with the money she gets?”

”That seems to me a great shame. But she's an old brick,” said Alfred,rising from his chair, and pulling Mary's head backward to kiss her.

Mary colored and laughed, but could not conceal that the tears werecoming. Caleb, looking on over his spectacles, with the angles of hiseyebrows falling, had an expression of mingled delight and sorrow as hereturned to the opening of his letter; and even Mrs. Garth, her lipscurling with a calm contentment, allowed that inappropriate language topass without correction, although Ben immediately took it up, and sang,”She's an old brick, old brick, old brick!” to a cantering measure,which he beat out with his fist on Mary's arm.

But Mrs. Garth's eyes were now drawn towards her husband, who wasalready deep in the letter he was reading. His face had an expressionof grave surprise, which alarmed her a little, but he did not like tobe questioned while he was reading, and she remained anxiously watchingtill she saw him suddenly shaken by a little joyous laugh as he turnedback to the beginning of the letter, and looking at her above hisspectacles, said, in a low tone, ”What do you think, Susan?”

She went and stood behind him, putting her hand on his shoulder, whilethey read the letter together. It was from Sir James Chettam, offeringto Mr. Garth the management of the family estates at Freshitt andelsewhere, and adding that Sir James had been requested by Mr. Brookeof Tipton to ascertain whether Mr. Garth would be disposed at the sametime to resume the agency of the Tipton property. The Baronet added invery obliging words that he himself was particularly desirous of seeingthe Freshitt and Tipton estates under the same management, and he hopedto be able to show that the double agency might be held on termsagreeable to Mr. Garth, whom he would be glad to see at the Hall attwelve o'clock on the following day.

”He writes handsomely, doesn't he, Susan?” said Caleb, turning his eyesupward to his wife, who raised her hand from his shoulder to his ear,while she rested her chin on his head. ”Brooke didn't like to ask mehimself, I can see,” he continued, laughing silently.

”Here is an honor to your father, children,” said Mrs. Garth, lookinground at the five pair of eyes, all fixed on the parents. ”He is askedto take a post again by those who dismissed him long ago. That showsthat he did his work well, so that they feel the want of him.”

”Like Cincinnatus--hooray!” said Ben, riding on his chair, with apleasant confidence that discipline was relaxed.

”Will they come to fetch him, mother?” said Letty, thinking of theMayor and Corporation in their robes.

Mrs. Garth patted Letty's head and smiled, but seeing that her husbandwas gathering up his letters and likely soon to be out of reach in thatsanctuary ”business,” she pressed his shoulder and said emphatically--

”Now, mind you ask fair pay, Caleb.”

”Oh yes,” said Caleb, in a deep voice of assent, as if it would beunreasonable to suppose anything else of him. ”It'll come to betweenfour and five hundred, the two together.” Then with a little start ofremembrance he said, ”Mary, write and give up that school. Stay andhelp your mother. I'm as pleased as Punch, now I've thought of that.”

No manner could have been less like that of Punch triumphant thanCaleb's, but his talents did not lie in finding phrases, though he wasvery particular about his letter-writing, and regarded his wife as atreasury of correct language.

There was almost an uproar among the children now, and Mary held up thecambric embroidery towards her mother entreatingly, that it might beput out of reach while the boys dragged her into a dance. Mrs. Garth,in placid joy, began to put the cups and plates together, while Calebpushing his chair from the table, as if he were going to move to thedesk, still sat holding his letters in his hand and looking on theground meditatively, stretching out the fingers of his left hand,according to a mute language of his own. At last he said--

”It's a thousand pities Christy didn't take to business, Susan. Ishall want help by-and-by. And Alfred must go off to theengineering--I've made up my mind to that.” He fell into meditation andfinger-rhetoric again for a little while, and then continued: ”I shallmake Brooke have new agreements with the tenants, and I shall draw up arotation of crops. And I'll lay a wager we can get fine bricks out ofthe clay at Bott's corner. I must look into that: it would cheapen therepairs. It's a fine bit of work, Susan! A man without a family wouldbe glad to do it for nothing.”

”Mind you don't, though,” said his wife, lifting up her finger.

”No, no; but it's a fine thing to come to a man when he's seen into thenature of business: to have the chance of getting a bit of the countryinto good fettle, as they say, and putting men into the right way withtheir farming, and getting a bit of good contriving and solid buildingdone--that those who are living and those who come after will be thebetter for. I'd sooner have it than a fortune. I hold it the mosthonorable work that is.” Here Caleb laid down his letters, thrust hisfingers between the buttons of his waistcoat, and sat upright, butpresently proceeded with some awe in his voice and moving his headslowly aside--”It's a great gift of God, Susan.”

”That it is, Caleb,” said his wife, with answering fervor. ”And itwill be a blessing to your children to have had a father who did suchwork: a father whose good work remains though his name may beforgotten.” She could not say any more to him then about the pay.

In the evening, when Caleb, rather tired with his day's work, wasseated in silence with his pocket-book open on his knee, while Mrs.Garth and Mary were at their sewing, and Letty in a corner waswhispering a dialogue with her doll, Mr. Farebrother came up theorchard walk, dividing the bright August lights and shadows with thetufted grass and the apple-tree boughs. We know that he was fond ofhis parishioners the Garths, and had thought Mary worth mentioning toLydgate. He used to the full the clergyman's privilege of disregardingthe Middlemarch discrimination of ranks, and always told his motherthat Mrs. Garth was more of a lady than any matron in the town. Still,you see, he spent his evenings at the Vincys', where the matron, thoughless of a lady, presided over a well-lit drawing-room and whist. Inthose days human intercourse was not determined solely by respect. Butthe Vicar did heartily respect the Garths, and a visit from him was nosurprise to that family. Nevertheless he accounted for it even whilehe was shaking hands, by saying, ”I come as an envoy, Mrs. Garth: Ihave something to say to you and Garth on behalf of Fred Vincy. Thefact is, poor fellow,” he continued, as he seated himself and lookedround with his bright glance at the three who were listening to him,”he has taken me into his confidence.”

Mary's heart beat rather quickly: she wondered how far Fred'sconfidence had gone.

”We haven't seen the lad for months,” said Caleb. ”I couldn't thinkwhat was become of him.”

”He has been away on a visit,” said the Vicar, ”because home was alittle too hot for him, and Lydgate told his mother that the poorfellow must not begin to study yet. But yesterday he came and pouredhimself out to me. I am very glad he did, because I have seen him growup from a youngster of fourteen, and I am so much at home in the housethat the children are like nephews and nieces to me. But it is adifficult case to advise upon. However, he has asked me to come andtell you that he is going away, and that he is so miserable about hisdebt to you, and his inability to pay, that he can't bear to comehimself even to bid you good by.”

”Tell him it doesn't signify a farthing,” said Caleb, waving his hand.”We've had the pinch and have got over it. And now I'm going to be asrich as a Jew.”

”Which means,” said Mrs. Garth, smiling at the Vicar, ”that we aregoing to have enough to bring up the boys well and to keep Mary athome.”

”What is the treasure-trove?” said Mr. Farebrother.

”I'm going to be agent for two estates, Freshitt and Tipton; andperhaps for a pretty little bit of land in Lowick besides: it's all thesame family connection, and employment spreads like water if it's onceset going. It makes me very happy, Mr. Farebrother”--here Caleb threwback his head a little, and spread his arms on the elbows of hischair--”that I've got an opportunity again with the letting of theland, and carrying out a notion or two with improvements. It's a mostuncommonly cramping thing, as I've often told Susan, to sit onhorseback and look over the hedges at the wrong thing, and not be ableto put your hand to it to make it right. What people do who go intopolitics I can't think: it drives me almost mad to see mismanagementover only a few hundred acres.”

It was seldom that Caleb volunteered so long a speech, but hishappiness had the effect of mountain air: his eyes were bright, and thewords came without effort.

”I congratulate you heartily, Garth,” said the Vicar. ”This is thebest sort of news I could have had to carry to Fred Vincy, for he dwelta good deal on the injury he had done you in causing you to part withmoney--robbing you of it, he said--which you wanted for other purposes.I wish Fred were not such an idle dog; he has some very good points,and his father is a little hard upon him.”

”Where is he going?” said Mrs. Garth, rather coldly.

”He means to try again for his degree, and he is going up to studybefore term. I have advised him to do that. I don't urge him to enterthe Church--on the contrary. But if he will go and work so as to pass,that will be some guarantee that he has energy and a will; and he isquite at sea; he doesn't know what else to do. So far he will pleasehis father, and I have promised in the mean time to try and reconcileVincy to his son's adopting some other line of life. Fred says franklyhe is not fit for a clergyman, and I would do anything I could tohinder a man from the fatal step of choosing the wrong profession. Hequoted to me what you said, Miss Garth--do you remember it?” (Mr.Farebrother used to say ”Mary” instead of ”Miss Garth,” but it was partof his delicacy to treat her with the more deference because, accordingto Mrs. Vincy's phrase, she worked for her bread.)

Mary felt uncomfortable, but, determined to take the matter lightly,answered at once, ”I have said so many impertinent things to Fred--weare such old playfellows.”

”You said, according to him, that he would be one of those ridiculousclergymen who help to make the whole clergy ridiculous. Really, thatwas so cutting that I felt a little cut myself.”

Caleb laughed. ”She gets her tongue from you, Susan,” he said, withsome enjoyment.

”Not its flippancy, father,” said Mary, quickly, fearing that hermother would be displeased. ”It is rather too bad of Fred to repeat myflippant speeches to Mr. Farebrother.”

”It was certainly a hasty speech, my dear,” said Mrs. Garth, with whomspeaking evil of dignities was a high misdemeanor. ”We should notvalue our Vicar the less because there was a ridiculous curate in thenext parish.”

”There's something in what she says, though,” said Caleb, not disposedto have Mary's sharpness undervalued. ”A bad workman of any sort makeshis fellows mistrusted. Things hang together,” he added, looking onthe floor and moving his feet uneasily with a sense that words werescantier than thoughts.

”Clearly,” said the Vicar, amused. ”By being contemptible we set men'sminds, to the tune of contempt. I certainly agree with Miss Garth'sview of the matter, whether I am condemned by it or not. But as toFred Vincy, it is only fair he should be excused a little: oldFeatherstone's delusive behavior did help to spoil him. There wassomething quite diabolical in not leaving him a farthing after all.But Fred has the good taste not to dwell on that. And what he caresmost about is having offended you, Mrs. Garth; he supposes you willnever think well of him again.”

”I have been disappointed in Fred,” said Mrs. Garth, with decision.”But I shall be ready to think well of him again when he gives me goodreason to do so.”

At this point Mary went out of the room, taking Letty with her.

”Oh, we must forgive young people when they're sorry,” said Caleb,watching Mary close the door. ”And as you say, Mr. Farebrother, therewas the very devil in that old man. Now Mary's gone out, I must tell youa thing--it's only known to Susan and me, and you'll not tell it again.The old scoundrel wanted Mary to burn one of the wills the very nighthe died, when she was sitting up with him by herself, and he offered hera sum of money that he had in the box by him if she would do it. But Mary,you understand, could do no such thing--would not be handling his ironchest, and so on. Now, you see, the will he wanted burnt was this last,so that if Mary had done what he wanted, Fred Vincy would have had tenthousand pounds. The old man did turn to him at the last. That touchespoor Mary close; she couldn't help it--she was in the right to do whatshe did, but she feels, as she says, much as if she had knocked downsomebody's property and broken it against her will, when she wasrightfully defending herself. I feel with her, somehow, and if I couldmake any amends to the poor lad, instead of bearing him a grudge forthe harm he did us, I should be glad to do it. Now, what is your opinion,sir? Susan doesn't agree with me. She says--tell what you say, Susan.”

”Mary could not have acted otherwise, even if she had known what wouldbe the effect on Fred,” said Mrs. Garth, pausing from her work, andlooking at Mr. Farebrother.

”And she was quite ignorant of it. It seems to me, a loss which fallson another because we have done right is not to lie upon ourconscience.”

The Vicar did not answer immediately, and Caleb said, ”It's thefeeling. The child feels in that way, and I feel with her. You don'tmean your horse to tread on a dog when you're backing out of the way;but it goes through you, when it's done.”

”I am sure Mrs. Garth would agree with you there,” said Mr.Farebrother, who for some reason seemed more inclined to ruminate thanto speak. ”One could hardly say that the feeling you mention aboutFred is wrong--or rather, mistaken--though no man ought to make a claimon such feeling.”

”Well, well,” said Caleb, ”it's a secret. You will not tell Fred.”

”Certainly not. But I shall carry the other good news--that you canafford the loss he caused you.”

Mr. Farebrother left the house soon after, and seeing Mary in theorchard with Letty, went to say good-by to her. They made a prettypicture in the western light which brought out the brightness of theapples on the old scant-leaved boughs--Mary in her lavender gingham andblack ribbons holding a basket, while Letty in her well-worn nankinpicked up the fallen apples. If you want to know more particularly howMary looked, ten to one you will see a face like hers in the crowdedstreet to-morrow, if you are there on the watch: she will not be amongthose daughters of Zion who are haughty, and walk with stretched-outnecks and wanton eyes, mincing as they go: let all those pass, and fixyour eyes on some small plump brownish person of firm but quietcarriage, who looks about her, but does not suppose that anybody islooking at her. If she has a broad face and square brow, well-markedeyebrows and curly dark hair, a certain expression of amusement in herglance which her mouth keeps the secret of, and for the rest featuresentirely insignificant--take that ordinary but not disagreeable personfor a portrait of Mary Garth. If you made her smile, she would showyou perfect little teeth; if you made her angry, she would not raiseher voice, but would probably say one of the bitterest things you haveever tasted the flavor of; if you did her a kindness, she would neverforget it. Mary admired the keen-faced handsome little Vicar in hiswell-brushed threadbare clothes more than any man she had had theopportunity of knowing. She had never heard him say a foolish thing,though she knew that he did unwise ones; and perhaps foolish sayingswere more objectionable to her than any of Mr. Farebrother's unwisedoings. At least, it was remarkable that the actual imperfections ofthe Vicar's clerical character never seemed to call forth the samescorn and dislike which she showed beforehand for the predictedimperfections of the clerical character sustained by Fred Vincy. Theseirregularities of judgment, I imagine, are found even in riper mindsthan Mary Garth's: our impartiality is kept for abstract merit anddemerit, which none of us ever saw. Will any one guess towards whichof those widely different men Mary had the peculiar woman'stenderness?--the one she was most inclined to be severe on, or thecontrary?

”Have you any message for your old playfellow, Miss Garth?” said theVicar, as he took a fragrant apple from the basket which she heldtowards him, and put it in his pocket. ”Something to soften down thatharsh judgment? I am going straight to see him.”

”No,” said Mary, shaking her head, and smiling. ”If I were to say thathe would not be ridiculous as a clergyman, I must say that he would besomething worse than ridiculous. But I am very glad to hear that he isgoing away to work.”

”On the other hand, I am very glad to hear that _you_ are not goingaway to work. My mother, I am sure, will be all the happier if youwill come to see her at the vicarage: you know she is fond of havingyoung people to talk to, and she has a great deal to tell about oldtimes. You will really be doing a kindness.”

”I should like it very much, if I may,” said Mary. ”Everything seemstoo happy for me all at once. I thought it would always be part of mylife to long for home, and losing that grievance makes me feel ratherempty: I suppose it served instead of sense to fill up my mind?”

”May I go with you, Mary?” whispered Letty--a most inconvenient child,who listened to everything. But she was made exultant by having herchin pinched and her cheek kissed by Mr. Farebrother--an incidentwhich she narrated to her mother and father.

As the Vicar walked to Lowick, any one watching him closely might haveseen him twice shrug his shoulders. I think that the rare Englishmenwho have this gesture are never of the heavy type--for fear of anylumbering instance to the contrary, I will say, hardly ever; they haveusually a fine temperament and much tolerance towards the smallererrors of men (themselves inclusive). The Vicar was holding an inwarddialogue in which he told himself that there was probably somethingmore between Fred and Mary Garth than the regard of old playfellows,and replied with a question whether that bit of womanhood were not agreat deal too choice for that crude young gentleman. The rejoinder tothis was the first shrug. Then he laughed at himself for being likelyto have felt jealous, as if he had been a man able to marry, which,added he, it is as clear as any balance-sheet that I am not. Whereuponfollowed the second shrug.

What could two men, so different from each other, see in this ”brownpatch,” as Mary called herself? It was certainly not her plainnessthat attracted them (and let all plain young ladies be warned againstthe dangerous encouragement given them by Society to confide in theirwant of beauty). A human being in this aged nation of ours is a verywonderful whole, the slow creation of long interchanging influences:and charm is a result of two such wholes, the one loving and the oneloved.

When Mr. and Mrs. Garth were sitting alone, Caleb said, ”Susan, guesswhat I'm thinking of.”

”The rotation of crops,” said Mrs. Garth, smiling at him, above herknitting, ”or else the back-doors of the Tipton cottages.”

”No,” said Caleb, gravely; ”I am thinking that I could do a great turnfor Fred Vincy. Christy's gone, Alfred will be gone soon, and it willbe five years before Jim is ready to take to business. I shall wanthelp, and Fred might come in and learn the nature of things and actunder me, and it might be the making of him into a useful man, if hegives up being a parson. What do you think?”

”I think, there is hardly anything honest that his family would objectto more,” said Mrs. Garth, decidedly.

”What care I about their objecting?” said Caleb, with a sturdinesswhich he was apt to show when he had an opinion. ”The lad is of ageand must get his bread. He has sense enough and quickness enough; helikes being on the land, and it's my belief that he could learnbusiness well if he gave his mind to it.”

”But would he? His father and mother wanted him to be a finegentleman, and I think he has the same sort of feeling himself. Theyall think us beneath them. And if the proposal came from you, I amsure Mrs. Vincy would say that we wanted Fred for Mary.”

”Life is a poor tale, if it is to be settled by nonsense of that sort,”said Caleb, with disgust.

”Yes, but there is a certain pride which is proper, Caleb.”

”I call it improper pride to let fools' notions hinder you from doing agood action. There's no sort of work,” said Caleb, with fervor,putting out his hand and moving it up and down to mark his emphasis,”that could ever be done well, if you minded what fools say. You musthave it inside you that your plan is right, and that plan you mustfollow.”

”I will not oppose any plan you have set your mind on, Caleb,” saidMrs. Garth, who was a firm woman, but knew that there were some pointson which her mild husband was yet firmer. ”Still, it seems to be fixedthat Fred is to go back to college: will it not be better to wait andsee what he will choose to do after that? It is not easy to keeppeople against their will. And you are not yet quite sure enough ofyour own position, or what you will want.”

”Well, it may be better to wait a bit. But as to my getting plenty ofwork for two, I'm pretty sure of that. I've always had my hands fullwith scattered things, and there's always something fresh turning up.Why, only yesterday--bless me, I don't think I told you!--it was ratherodd that two men should have been at me on different sides to do thesame bit of valuing. And who do you think they were?” said Caleb,taking a pinch of snuff and holding it up between his fingers, as if itwere a part of his exposition. He was fond of a pinch when it occurredto him, but he usually forgot that this indulgence was at his command.

His wife held down her knitting and looked attentive.

”Why, that Rigg, or Rigg Featherstone, was one. But Bulstrode wasbefore him, so I'm going to do it for Bulstrode. Whether it's mortgageor purchase they're going for, I can't tell yet.”

”Can that man be going to sell the land just left him--which he hastaken the name for?” said Mrs. Garth.

”Deuce knows,” said Caleb, who never referred the knowledge ofdiscreditable doings to any higher power than the deuce. ”ButBulstrode has long been wanting to get a handsome bit of land under hisfingers--that I know. And it's a difficult matter to get, in this partof the country.”

Caleb scattered his snuff carefully instead of taking it, and thenadded, ”The ins and outs of things are curious. Here is the landthey've been all along expecting for Fred, which it seems the old mannever meant to leave him a foot of, but left it to this side-slip of ason that he kept in the dark, and thought of his sticking there andvexing everybody as well as he could have vexed 'em himself if he couldhave kept alive. I say, it would be curious if it got into Bulstrode'shands after all. The old man hated him, and never would bank with him.”

”What reason could the miserable creature have for hating a man whom hehad nothing to do with?” said Mrs. Garth.

”Pooh! where's the use of asking for such fellows' reasons? The soulof man,” said Caleb, with the deep tone and grave shake of the headwhich always came when he used this phrase--”The soul of man, when itgets fairly rotten, will bear you all sorts of poisonous toad-stools,and no eye can see whence came the seed thereof.”

It was one of Caleb's quaintnesses, that in his difficulty of findingspeech for his thought, he caught, as it were, snatches of dictionwhich he associated with various points of view or states of mind; andwhenever he had a feeling of awe, he was haunted by a sense of Biblicalphraseology, though he could hardly have given a strict quotation.