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Page 38
"Cowardice!" said the bishop, expostulating. Mr Harding sat unmoved,
gazing on his son-in-law.
"Well; would it not be cowardice? Would he not do so because he is
afraid to endure the evil things which will be falsely spoken of him?
Would that not be cowardice? And now let us see the extent of the
evil which you dread. The _Jupiter_ publishes an article which a
great many, no doubt, will read; but of those who understand the
subject how many will believe _The Jupiter_? Everyone knows what its
object is: it has taken up the case against Lord Guildford and against
the Dean of Rochester, and that against half a dozen bishops; and does
not everyone know that it would take up any case of the kind, right
or wrong, false or true, with known justice or known injustice, if by
doing so it could further its own views? Does not all the world know
this of _The Jupiter_? Who that really knows you will think the worse
of you for what _The Jupiter_ says? And why care for those who do not
know you? I will say nothing of your own comfort, but I do say that
you could not be justified in throwing up, in a fit of passion, for
such it would be, the only maintenance that Eleanor has; and if you
did so, if you really did vacate the wardenship, and submit to ruin,
what would that profit you? If you have no future right to the
income, you have had no past right to it; and the very fact of your
abandoning your position would create a demand for repayment of that
which you have already received and spent."
The poor warden groaned as he sat perfectly still, looking up at the
hard-hearted orator who thus tormented him, and the bishop echoed the
sound faintly from behind his hands; but the archdeacon cared little
for such signs of weakness, and completed his exhortation.
"But let us suppose the office to be left vacant, and that your own
troubles concerning it were over; would that satisfy you? Are your
only aspirations in the matter confined to yourself and family? I
know they are not. I know you are as anxious as any of us for the
church to which we belong; and what a grievous blow would such an act
of apostasy give her! You owe it to the church of which you are a
member and a minister, to bear with this affliction, however severe it
may be: you owe it to my father, who instituted you, to support his
rights: you owe it to those who preceded you to assert the legality
of their position; you owe it to those who are to come after you, to
maintain uninjured for them that which you received uninjured from
others; and you owe to us all the unflinching assistance of perfect
brotherhood in this matter, so that upholding one another we may
support our great cause without blushing and without disgrace."
And so the archdeacon ceased, and stood self-satisfied, watching the
effect of his spoken wisdom.
The warden felt himself, to a certain extent, stifled; he would have
given the world to get himself out into the open air without speaking
to, or noticing those who were in the room with him; but this was
impossible. He could not leave without saying something, and he felt
himself confounded by the archdeacon's eloquence. There was a heavy,
unfeeling, unanswerable truth in what he had said; there was so much
practical, but odious common sense in it, that he neither knew how
to assent or to differ. If it were necessary for him to suffer, he
felt that he could endure without complaint and without cowardice,
providing that he was self-satisfied of the justice of his own cause.
What he could not endure was, that he should be accused by others, and
not acquitted by himself. Doubting, as he had begun to doubt, the
justice of his own position in the hospital, he knew that his own
self-confidence would not be restored because Mr Bold had been in
error as to some legal form; nor could he be satisfied to escape,
because, through some legal fiction, he who received the greatest
benefit from the hospital might be considered only as one of its
servants.
The archdeacon's speech had silenced him,--stupefied him,--annihilated
him; anything but satisfied him. With the bishop it fared not much
better. He did not discern clearly how things were, but he saw enough
to know that a battle was to be prepared for; a battle that would
destroy his few remaining comforts, and bring him with sorrow to the
grave.
The warden still sat, and still looked at the archdeacon, till his
thoughts fixed themselves wholly on the means of escape from his
present position, and he felt like a bird fascinated by gazing on a
snake.
"I hope you agree with me," said the archdeacon at last, breaking the
dread silence; "my lord, I hope you agree with me."
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