The Last Chronicle of Barset

  CHAPTER XI.

  THE BISHOP SENDS HIS INHIBITION.

  Tidings of Mr. Crawley's fate reached the palace at Barchester on theafternoon of the day on which the magistrates had committed him. Allsuch tidings travel very quickly, conveyed by imperceptible wires,and distributed by indefatigable message boys whom Rumour seems tosupply for the purpose. Barchester is twenty miles from Silverbridgeby road, and more than forty by railway. I doubt whether any one wascommissioned to send the news along the actual telegraph, and yetMrs. Proudie knew it before four o'clock. But she did not know itquite accurately. "Bishop," she said, standing at her husband's studydoor. "They have committed that man to gaol. There was no help forthem unless they had forsworn themselves."

  "Not forsworn themselves, my dear," said the bishop, striving, as wasusual with him, by some meek and ineffectual word to teach his wifethat she was occasionally led by her energy into error. He neverpersisted in the lessons when he found, as was usual, that they weretaken amiss.

  "I say forsworn themselves!" said Mrs. Proudie; "and now what doyou mean to do? This is Thursday, and of course the man must not beallowed to desecrate the church of Hogglestock by performing theSunday services."

  "If he has been committed, my dear, and is in prison,--"

  "I said nothing about prison, bishop."

  "Gaol, my dear."

  "I say they have committed him to gaol. So my informant tells me.But of course all the Plumstead and Framley set will move heaven andearth to get him out, so that he may be there as a disgrace to thediocese. I wonder how the dean will feel when he hears of it! I do,indeed. For the dean, though he is an idle, useless man, with nochurch principles, and no real piety, still he has a conscience. Ithink he has a conscience."

  "I'm sure he has, my dear."

  "Well;--let us hope so. And if he has a conscience, what must be hisfeelings when he hears that this creature whom he brought into thediocese has been committed to gaol along with common felons."

  "Not with felons, my dear; at least, I should think not."

  "I say with common felons! A downright robbery of twenty pounds,just as though he had broken into the bank! And so he did, withsly artifice, which is worse in such hands than a crowbar. And nowwhat are we to do? Here is Thursday, and something must be donebefore Sunday for the souls of those poor benighted creatures atHogglestock." Mrs. Proudie was ready for the battle, and was evennow sniffing the blood afar-off. "I believe it's a hundred andthirty pounds a year," she said, before the bishop had collected histhoughts sufficiently for a reply.

  "I think we must find out, first of all, whether he is really to beshut up in prison," said the bishop.

  "And suppose he is not to be shut up. Suppose they have been weak,or untrue to their duty--and from what we know of the magistrates ofBarsetshire, there is too much reason to suppose that they will havebeen so; suppose they have let him out, is he to go about like aroaring lion--among the souls of the people?"

  The bishop shook in his shoes. When Mrs. Proudie began to talk of thesouls of the people he always shook in his shoes. She had an eloquentway of raising her voice over the word souls that was qualifiedto make any ordinary man shake in his shoes. The bishop was aconscientious man, and well knew that poor Mr. Crawley, even thoughhe might have become a thief under terrible temptation, wouldnot roar at Hogglestock to the injury of any man's soul. He wasaware that this poor clergyman had done his duty laboriously andefficiently, and he was also aware that though he might have beencommitted by the magistrates, and then let out upon bail, he shouldnot be regarded now, in these days before his trial, as a convictedthief. But to explain all this to Mrs. Proudie was beyond his power.He knew well that she would not hear a word in mitigation of Mr.Crawley's presumed offence. Mr. Crawley belonged to the other party,and Mrs. Proudie was a thorough-going partisan. I know a man,--anexcellent fellow, who, being himself a strong politician, constantlyexpresses a belief that all politicians opposed to him are thieves,child-murderers, parricides, lovers of incest, demons upon theearth. He is a strong partisan, but not, I think, so strong as Mrs.Proudie. He says that he believes all evil of his opponents; but shereally believed the evil. The archdeacon had called Mrs. Proudie ashe-Beelzebub; but that was a simple ebullition of mortal hatred. Hebelieved her to be simply a vulgar, interfering, brazen-faced virago.Mrs. Proudie in truth believed that the archdeacon was an actualemanation from Satan, sent to those parts to devour souls,--as shewould call it,--and that she herself was an emanation of anothersort, sent from another source expressly to Barchester, to preventsuch devouring, as far as it might possibly be prevented by a mortalagency. The bishop knew it all,--understood it all. He regarded thearchdeacon as a clergyman belonging to a party opposed to his party,and he disliked the man. He knew that from his first coming into thediocese he had been encountered with enmity by the archdeacon andthe archdeacon's friends. If left to himself he could feel and to acertain extent could resent such enmity. But he had no faith in hiswife's doctrine of emanations. He had no faith in many things whichshe believed religiously;--and yet what could he do? If he attemptedto explain, she would stop him before he had got through the firsthalf of his first sentence.

  "If he is out on bail--," commenced the bishop.

  "Of course he will be out on bail."

  "Then I think he should feel--"

  "Feel! such men never feel! What feeling can one expect from aconvicted thief?"

  "Not convicted as yet, my dear," said the bishop.

  "A convicted thief," repeated Mrs. Proudie; and she vociferated thewords in such a tone that the bishop resolved that he would for thefuture let the word convicted pass without notice. After all she wasonly using the phrase in a peculiar sense given to it by herself.

  "A convicted thief," repeated Mrs. Proudie.]

  "It won't be proper, certainly, that he should do the services,"suggested the bishop.

  "Proper! It would be a scandal to the whole diocese. How could heraise his head as he pronounced the eighth commandment? That must beat least prevented."

  The bishop, who was seated, fretted himself in his chair, movingabout with little movements. He knew that there was a misery comingupon him; and, as far as he could see, it might become a greatmisery,--a huge blistering sore upon him. When miseries came to him,as they did not unfrequently, he would unconsciously endeavour tofathom them and weigh them, and then, with some gallantry, resolve tobear them, if he could find that their depth and weight were not toogreat for his powers of endurance. He would let the cold wind whistleby him, putting up the collar of his coat, and would encounter thewinter weather without complaint. And he would be patient under thehot sun, knowing well that tranquillity is best for those who have tobear tropical heat. But when the storm threatened to knock him offhis legs, when the earth beneath him became too hot for his poortender feet,--what could he do then? There had been with him suchperiods of misery, during which he had wailed inwardly and hadconfessed to himself that the wife of his bosom was too much for him.Now the storm seemed to be coming very roughly. It would be demandedof him that he should exercise certain episcopal authority which heknew did not belong to him. Now, episcopal authority admits of beingstretched or contracted according to the character of the bishop whouses it. It is not always easy for a bishop himself to know what hemay do, and what he may not do. He may certainly give advice to anyclergyman in his diocese, and he may give it in such form that itwill have in it something of authority. Such advice coming from adominant bishop to a clergyman with a submissive mind, has in it verymuch of authority. But Bishop Proudie knew that Mr. Crawley was not aclergyman with a submissive mind, and he feared that he himself, asregarded from Mr. Crawley's point of view, was not a dominant bishop.And yet he could only act by advice. "I will write to him," saidthe bishop, "and will explain to him that as he is circumstanced heshould not appear in the reading desk."

  "Of course he must not appear in the reading desk. That scandal mustat any rate be inhibited." Now the bishop did not at all like the
useof the word inhibited, understanding well that Mrs. Proudie intendedit to be understood as implying some episcopal command against whichthere should be no appeal;--but he let it pass.

  "I will write to him, my dear, to-night."

  "And Mr. Thumble can go over with the letter the first thing in themorning."

  "Will not the post be better?"

  "No, bishop; certainly not."

  "He would get it sooner, if I write to-night, my dear."

  "In either case he will get it to-morrow morning. An hour or two willnot signify, and if Mr. Thumble takes it himself we shall know how itis received. It will be well that Thumble should be there in personas he will want to look for lodgings in the parish."

  "But, my dear--"

  "Well, bishop?"

  "About lodgings? I hardly think that Mr. Thumble, if we decide thatMr. Thumble shall undertake the duty--"

  "We have decided that Mr. Thumble should undertake the duty. That isdecided."

  "But I do not think he should trouble himself to look for lodgings atHogglestock. He can go over on the Sundays."

  "And who is to do the parish work? Would you have that man, aconvicted thief, to look after the schools, and visit the sick, andperhaps attend the dying?"

  "There will be a great difficulty; there will indeed," said thebishop, becoming very unhappy, and feeling that he was driven bycircumstances either to assert his own knowledge or teach his wifesomething of the law with reference to his position as a bishop. "Whois to pay Mr. Thumble?"

  "The income of the parish must be sequestrated, and he must be paidout of that. Of course he must have the income while he does thework."

  "But, my dear, I cannot sequestrate the man's income."

  "I don't believe it, bishop. If the bishop cannot sequestrate, whocan? But you are always timid in exercising the authority put intoyour hands for wise purposes. Not sequestrate the income of a manwho has been proved to be a thief! You leave that to us, and wewill manage it." The "us" here named comprised Mrs. Proudie and thebishop's managing chaplain.

  Then the bishop was left alone for an hour to write the letter whichMr. Thumble was to carry over to Mr. Crawley,--and after a whilehe did write it. Before he commenced the task, however, he sat forsome moments in his arm-chair close by the fire-side, asking himselfwhether it might not be possible for him to overcome his enemy inthis matter. How would it go with him suppose he were to leave theletter unwritten, and send in a message by his chaplain to Mrs.Proudie, saying that as Mr. Crawley was out on bail, the parish mightbe left for the present without episcopal interference? She could notmake him interfere. She could not force him to write the letter. So,at least, he said to himself. But as he said it, he almost thoughtthat she could do these things. In the last thirty years, or more,she had ever contrived by some power latent in her to have her willeffected. But what would happen if now, even now, he were to rebel?That he would personally become very uncomfortable, he was wellaware, but he thought that he could bear that. The food would becomebad,--mere ashes between his teeth, the daily modicum of wine wouldlose its flavour, the chimneys would all smoke, the wind would comefrom the east, and the servants would not answer the bell. Littlemiseries of that kind would crowd upon him. He had arrived at a timeof life in which such miseries make such men very miserable; but yethe thought that he could endure them. And what other wretchednesswould come to him? She would scold him,--frightfully, loudly,scornfully, and worse than all, continually. But of this he had somuch habitually, that anything added might be borne also;--if only hecould be sure that the scoldings should go on in private, that theworld of the palace should not be allowed to hear the revilings towhich he would be subjected. But to be scolded publicly was the greatevil which he dreaded beyond all evils. He was well aware that thepalace would know his misfortune, that it was known, and freelydiscussed by all, from the examining chaplain down to the palaceboot-boy;--nay, that it was known to all the diocese; but yet hecould smile upon those around him, and look as though he held hisown like other men,--unless when open violence was displayed. Butwhen that voice was heard aloud along the corridors of the palace,and when he was summoned imperiously by the woman, calling for herbishop, so that all Barchester heard it, and when he was compelledto creep forth from his study, at the sound of that summons, withdistressed face, and shaking hands, and short hurrying steps,--abeing to be pitied even by a deacon,--not venturing to assumean air of masterdom should he chance to meet a housemaid on thestairs,--then, at such moments as that, he would feel that anysubmission was better than the misery which he suffered. And he wellknew that should he now rebel, the whole house would be in a turmoil.He would be bishoped here, and bishoped there, before the eyes of allpalatial men and women, till life would be a burden to him. So he gotup from his seat over the fire, and went to his desk and wrote theletter. The letter was as follows:--

  The Palace, Barchester, -- December, 186--.

  REVEREND SIR,--[he left out the dear, because he knew that if he inserted it he would be compelled to write the letter over again]

  I have heard to-day with the greatest trouble of spirit, that you have been taken before a bench of magistrates assembled at Silverbridge, having been previously arrested by the police in your parsonage house at Hogglestock, and that the magistrates of Silverbridge have committed you to take your trial at the next assizes at Barchester, on a charge of theft.

  Far be it from me to prejudge the case. You will understand, reverend sir, that I express no opinion whatever as to your guilt or innocence in this matter. If you have been guilty, may the Lord give you grace to repent of your great sin and to make such amends as may come from immediate acknowledgment and confession. If you are innocent, may He protect you, and make your innocence to shine before all men. In either case may the Lord be with you and keep your feet from further stumbling.

  But I write to you now as your bishop, to explain to you that circumstanced as you are, you cannot with decency perform the church services of your parish. I have that confidence in you that I doubt not you will agree with me in this, and will be grateful to me for relieving you so far from the immediate perplexities of your position. I have, therefore, appointed the Rev. Caleb Thumble to perform the duties of incumbent of Hogglestock till such time as a jury shall have decided upon your case at Barchester; and in order that you may at once become acquainted with Mr. Thumble, as will be most convenient that you should do, I will commission him to deliver this letter into your hand personally to-morrow, trusting that you will receive him with that brotherly spirit in which he is sent upon this painful mission.

  Touching the remuneration to which Mr. Thumble will become entitled for his temporary ministrations in the parish of Hogglestock, I do not at present lay down any strict injunction. He must, at any rate, be paid at a rate not less than that ordinarily afforded for a curate.

  I will once again express my fervent hope that the Lord may bring you to see the true state of your own soul, and that He may fill you with the grace of repentance, so that the bitter waters of the present hour may not pass over your head and destroy you.

  I have the honour to be, Reverend Sir, Your faithful servant in Christ,

  T. BARNUM.*

  *Baronum Castrum having been the old Roman name from which the modern Barchester is derived, the bishops of the diocese have always signed themselves Barnum.

  The bishop had hardly finished his letter when Mrs. Proudie returnedto the study, followed by the Rev. Caleb Thumble. Mr. Thumble was alittle man, about forty years of age, who had a wife and childrenliving in Barchester, and who existed on such chance clerical crumbsas might fall from the table of the bishop's patronage. People inBarchester said that Mrs. Thumble was a cousin of Mrs. Proudie's; butas Mrs. Proudie stoutly denied the connection, it may be supposedthat the people of Barchester were wrong. And, had Mr. Thumble's wifein truth been a cousin, Mrs. Proudie would surely have pr
ovided forhim during the many years in which the diocese had been in her hands.No such provision had been made, and Mr. Thumble, who had now beenliving in the diocese for three years, had received nothing else fromthe bishop than such chance employment as this which he was now toundertake at Hogglestock. He was a humble, mild-voiced man, whenwithin the palace precincts, and had so far succeeded in makinghis way among his brethren in the cathedral city as to be employednot unfrequently for absent minor canons in chanting the week-dayservices, being remunerated for his work at the rate of about twoshillings and sixpence a service.

  The bishop handed his letter to his wife, observing in an off-handkind of way that she might as well see what he said. "Of course Ishall read it," said Mrs. Proudie. And the bishop winced visibly,because Mr. Thumble was present. "Quite right," said Mrs. Proudie,"quite right to let him know that you knew that he had beenarrested,--actually arrested by the police."

  "I thought it proper to mention that, because of the scandal," saidthe bishop.

  "Oh, it has been terrible in the city," said Mr. Thumble.

  "Never mind, Mr. Thumble," said Mrs. Proudie. "Never mind that atpresent." Then she continued to read the letter. "What's this?Confession! That must come out, bishop. It will never do that youshould recommend confession to anybody, under any circumstances."

  "But, my dear--"

  "It must come out, bishop."

  "My lord has not meant auricular confession," suggested Mr. Thumble.Then Mrs. Proudie turned round and looked at Mr. Thumble, and Mr.Thumble nearly sank amidst the tables and chairs. "I beg your pardon,Mrs. Proudie," he said. "I didn't mean to intrude."

  "The word must come out, bishop," repeated Mrs. Proudie. "Thereshould be no stumbling-blocks prepared for feet that are only tooready to fall." And the word did come out.

  "Now, Mr. Thumble," said the lady, as she gave the letter to hersatellite, "the bishop and I wish you to be at Hogglestock earlyto-morrow. You should be there not later than ten, certainly." Thenshe paused until Mr. Thumble had given the required promise. "And werequest that you will be very firm in the mission which is confidedto you, a mission which, as of course you see, is of a very delicateand important nature. You must be firm."

  "I will endeavour," said Mr. Thumble.

  "The bishop and I both feel that this most unfortunate man must notunder any circumstances be allowed to perform the services of theChurch while this charge is hanging over him,--a charge as to thetruth of which no sane man can entertain a doubt."

  "I'm afraid not, Mrs. Proudie," said Mr. Thumble.

  "The bishop and I therefore are most anxious that you should make Mr.Crawley understand at once,--at once," and the lady, as she spoke,lifted up her left hand with an eloquent violence which had itseffect upon Mr. Thumble, "that he is inhibited,"--the bishop shookin his shoes,--"inhibited from the performance of any of his sacredduties." Thereupon, Mr. Thumble promised obedience and went his way.