米德尔马契 英文版 Middlemarch
乔治.艾略特 George Eliot
CHAPTER LI. Page 1
Party is Nature too, and you shall seeBy force of Logic how they both agree:The Many in the One, the One in Many;All is not Some, nor Some the same as Any:Genus holds species, both are great or small;One genus highest, one not high at all;Each species has its differentia too,This is not That, and He was never You,Though this and that are AYES, and you and heAre like as one to one, or three to three.
No gossip about Mr. Casaubon's will had yet reached Ladislaw:the air seemed to be filled with the dissolution of Parliamentand the coming election, as the old wakes and fairs were filledwith the rival clatter of itinerant shows; and more private noiseswere taken little notice of. The famous "dry election" was at hand,in which the depths of public feeling might be measured by the lowflood-mark of drink. Will Ladislaw was one of the busiest at this time;and though Dorothea's widowhood was continually in his thought,he was so far from wishing to be spoken to on the subject,that when Lydgate sought him out to tell him what had passed aboutthe Lowick living, he answered rather waspishly--
"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 never go there. It is Tory ground, where I and the `Pioneer'are no more welcome 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 to the Grange oftener than was quite agreeable to himself,seemed now to contrive that he should go there as little as possible.This was a shuffling concession of Mr. Brooke's to Sir JamesChettam's indignant remonstrance; and Will, awake to the slightesthint in this direction, concluded that he was to be kept away fromthe Grange on Dorothea's account. Her friends, then, regarded himwith some suspicion? Their fears were quite superfluous: they werevery much mistaken if they imagined that he would put himselfforward as a needy adventurer trying to win the favor of a rich woman.
Until now Will had never fully seen the chasm between himselfand Dorothea--until now that he was come to the brink of it, and sawher on the other side. He began, not without some inward rage,to think of going away from the neighborhood: it would be impossiblefor him to show any further interest in Dorothea without subjectinghimself to disagreeable imputations--perhaps even in her mind,which others might try to poison.
"We are forever divided," said Will. "I might as well be at Rome;she would be no farther from me." But what we call our despairis often only the painful eagerness of unfed hope. There wereplenty of reasons why he should not go--public reasons why heshould not quit his post at this crisis, leaving Mr. Brooke in thelurch when he needed "coaching" for the election, and when therewas so much canvassing, direct and indirect, to be carried on.Will could not like to leave his own chessmen in the heat of a game;and any candidate on the right side, even if his brain and marrowhad 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 powerof pulling up in time, was not an easy task. Mr. Farebrother'sprophecy of a fourth candidate "in the bag" had not yet been fulfilled,neither the Parliamentary Candidate Society nor any other poweron the watch to secure a reforming majority seeing a worthy nodusfor interference while there was a second reforming candidatelike Mr. Brooke, who might be returned at his own expense;and the fight lay entirely between Pinkerton the old Tory member,Bagster the new Whig member returned at the last election, and Brookethe future independent member, who was to fetter himself for thisoccasion only. Mr. Hawley and his party would bend all theirforces to the return of Pinkerton, and Mr. Brooke's success mustdepend either on plumpers which would leave Bagster in the rear,or on the new minting of Tory votes into reforming votes.The latter means, of course, would be preferable.
This prospect of converting votes was a dangerous distraction toMr. Brooke: his impression that waverers were likely to be alluredby wavering statements, and also the liability of his mind to stickafresh at opposing arguments as they turned up in his memory,gave Will Ladislaw much 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 thisis a peculiar occasion--the country with a will of its own--political unions--that sort of thing--but we sometimes cut with rathertoo sharp a knife, Ladislaw. These ten-pound householders, now:why ten? Draw the line somewhere--yes: but why just at ten?That's a difficult question, now, if you go into it."
"Of course it is," said Will, impatiently. "But if you are to waittill we get a logical Bill, you must put yourself forward asa revolutionist, and then Middlemarch would not elect you, I fancy.As for trimming, this is not 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 afteran interval the wisdom of his own methods reasserted itself,and he was again drawn into using them with much hopefulness.At this stage of affairs he was in excellent spirits, which evensupported him under large advances of money; for his powersof convincing and persuading had not yet been, tested by anythingmore difficult than a chairman's speech introducing other orators,or a dialogue with a Middlemarch voter, from which he came awaywith a sense that he was a tactician by nature, and that itwas a pity he had not gone earlier into this kind of thing.He was a little conscious of defeat, however, with Mr. Mawmsey,a chief representative in Middlemarch of that great social power,the retail trader, and naturally one of the most doubtful votersin the borough--willing for his own part to supply an equal qualityof teas and sugars to reformer and anti-reformer, as well as to agreeimpartially with both, and feeling like the burgesses of old thatthis necessity of electing members was a great burthen to a town;for even if there were no danger in holding out hopes to allparties beforehand, there would be the painful necessity at lastof disappointing respectable people whose names were on his books.He was accustomed to receive large orders from Mr. Brooke of Tipton;but then, there were many of Pinkerton's committee whose opinionshad a great weight of grocery on their side. Mr. Mawmsey thinkingthat Mr. Brooke, as not too "clever in his intellects," was the morelikely to forgive a grocer who gave a hostile vote under pressure,had become confidential in his back parlor.
"As to Reform, sir, put it in a family light," he said, rattling thesmall silver in his pocket, and smiling affably. "Will it supportMrs. Mawmsey, and enable her to bring up six children when I am no more?I put the question _fictiously_, knowing what must be the answer.Very well, sir. I ask you what, as a husband and a father, I amto do when gentlemen come to me and say, `Do as you like, Mawmsey;but if you vote against us, I shall get my groceries elsewhere:when I sugar my liquor I like to feel that I am benefiting the countryby maintaining tradesmen of the right color.' Those very words havebeen spoken to me, sir, in the very chair 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 complainsto me of your goods, Mr. Mawmsey," said Mr. Brooke, soothingly,"until I hear that you send bad sugars, spices--that sort of thing--I shall never order 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 be somepleasure in voting for a gentleman who speaks in that honorable manner."
"Well, you know, Mr. Mawmsey, you would find it the right thing to putyourself on our side. This Reform will touch everybody by-and-by--a thoroughly popular measure--a sort of A, B, C, you know,that must come first before the rest can follow. I quite agreewith you that you've got to look at the thing in a family light:but public spirit, now. We're all one family, you know--it's all one cupboard. Such a thing as a vote, now: why, it mayhelp to make men's fortunes at the Cape--there's no knowingwhat may be the effect of a vote," Mr. Brooke ended, with a senseof being a little out at sea, though finding it still enjoyable.But Mr. Mawmsey answered in a tone of decisive check.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but I can't afford that. When I give a voteI must know what I am doing; I must look to what will be the effectson my till and ledger, speaking respectfully. Prices, I'll admit,are what nobody can know the merits of; and the sudden falls afteryou've bought in currants, which are a goods that will not keep--I've never; myself seen into the ins and outs there; which is a rebuketo human pride. But as to one family, there's debtor and creditor,I hope; they're not going to reform that away; else I should votefor things staying as they are. Few men have less need to cryfor change than I have, personally speaking--that is, for selfand family. I am not one of those who have nothing to lose:I mean as to respectability both in parish and private business,and noways in respect of your honorable self and custom, which youwas good 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 his wifethat 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 tacticsto Ladislaw, who for his part was glad enough to persuade himselfthat he had no concern with any canvassing except the purelyargumentative sort, and that he worked no meaner engine than knowledge.Mr. Brooke, necessarily, had his agents, who understood the natureof the Middlemarch voter and the means of enlisting his ignoranceon the side of the Bill--which were remarkably similar to the meansof enlisting it on the side against the Bill. Will stopped his ears.Occasionally Parliament, like the rest of our lives, even to oureating and apparel, could hardly go on if our imaginations weretoo active about processes. There were plenty of dirty-handed menin the world to do dirty business; and Will protested to himselfthat his share in bringing Mr. Brooke through would be quite innocent.
But whether he should succeed in that mode of contributingto the majority on the right side was very doubtful to him.He had written out various speeches and memoranda for speeches,but he had begun to perceive that Mr. Brooke's mind, if it hadthe burthen of remembering any train of thought, would let it drop,run away in search of it, and not easily come back again. To collectdocuments is one mode of serving your country, and to rememberthe contents of a document is another. No! the only way in whichMr. Brooke could be coerced into thinking of the right argumentsat the right time was to be well plied with them till they tookup 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 waywhen he was speaking.
However, Ladislaw's coaching was forthwith to be put to the test,for before the day of nomination Mr. Brooke was to explain himself tothe worthy 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 a fine May morning, and everything seemed hopeful:there was some prospect of an understanding between Bagster'scommittee and Brooke's, to which Mr. Bulstrode, Mr. Standishas a Liberal lawyer, and such manufacturers as Mr. Plymdale andMr. Vincy, gave a solidity which almost counterbalanced Mr. Hawleyand his associates who sat for Pinkerton at the Green Dragon.Mr. Brooke, conscious of having weakened the blasts of the "Trumpet"against him, by his reforms as a landlord in the last half year,and hearing himself cheered a little as he drove into the town,felt his heart tolerably light under his buff-colored waistcoat.But with regard to critical occasions, it often happens that all momentsseem comfortably remote until the last.
might as well be at Rome;she would be no farther from me." But what we call our despairis often only the painful.
"This looks well, eh?" said Mr. Brooke as the crowd gathered."I shall have a good audience, at any rate. I like this, now--this kind of public made up of one's own neighbors, you know."
The weavers and tanners of Middlemarch, unlike Mr. Mawmsey, had neverthought of Mr. Brooke as a neighbor, and were not more attachedto him than if he had been sent in a box from London. But theylistened without much disturbance to the speakers who introducedthe candidate, one of them--a political personage from Brassing,who came to tell Middlemarch its duty--spoke so fully, that it wasalarming to think what the candidate could find to say after him.Meanwhile the crowd became denser, and as the political personageneared the end of his speech, Mr. Brooke felt a remarkable changein his sensations while he still handled his eye-glass, trifledwith documents before him, and exchanged remarks with his committee,as a man to whom the moment of summons was indifferent.
"I'll take another glass of sherry, Ladislaw," he said, with aneasy air, to Will, who was close behind him, and presently handedhim the supposed fortifier. It was ill-chosen; for Mr. Brookewas an abstemious man, and to drink a second glass of sherryquickly at no great interval from the first was a surpriseto his system which tended to scatter his energies instead ofcollecting them. Pray pity him: so many English gentlemen makethemselves miserable by speechifying on entirely private grounds!whereas Mr. Brooke wished to serve his country by standingfor Parliament--which, indeed, may also be done on private grounds,but being 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 haveit quite pat, cut out as neatly as a set of couplets from Pope.Embarking would be easy, but the vision of open sea that mightcome after was alarming. "And questions, now," hinted the demonjust waking up in his stomach, "somebody may put questionsabout the schedules.--Ladislaw," he continued, aloud, "just handme the memorandum of the schedules."
When Mr. Brooke presented himself on the balcony, the cheers werequite loud enough to counterbalance the yells, groans, brayings,and other expressions of adverse theory, which were so moderate thatMr. Standish (decidedly an old bird) observed in the ear next to him,"This looks dangerous, by God! Hawley has got some deeper planthan this." Still, the cheers were exhilarating, and no candidatecould look more amiable than Mr. Brooke, with the memorandumin his breast-pocket, his left hand on the rail of the balcony,and his right trifling with his eye-glass. The striking pointsin his appearance were his buff waistcoat, short-clipped blond hair,and neutral physiognomy. He began with some confidence.
"Gentlemen--Electors of Middlemarch!"
This was so much the right thing that a little pause after itseemed natural.
"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 coupletsfrom Pope may be but "fallings from us, vanishings," when fearclutches us, and a glass of sherry is hurrying like smoke amongour ideas. Ladislaw, who stood at the window behind the speaker,thought, "it's all up now. The only chance is that, since the bestthing won't always do, floundering may answer for once." Mr. Brooke,meanwhile, having lost other clews, fell back on himself and hisqualifications--always an appropriate graceful subject for a candidate.
"I am a close neighbor of yours, my good friends--you've knownme on the bench a good while--I've always gone a good deal intopublic questions--machinery, now, and machine-breaking--you're manyof you concerned with machinery, and I've been going into that lately.It won't do, you know, breaking machines: everything must go on--trade, manufactures, commerce, interchange of staples--that kindof thing--since Adam Smith, that must go on. We must look all overthe globe:--`Observation with extensive view,' must look everywhere,`from China to Peru,' as somebody says--Johnson, I think, `The Rambler,'you know. That is what I have done up to a certain point--not as faras Peru; but I've not always stayed at home--I saw it wouldn't do.I've been in the Levant, where some of your Middlemarch goods go--and then, again, in the Baltic. The Baltic, now."
Plying among his recollections in this way, Mr. Brooke might havegot along, easily to himself, and would have come back from theremotest seas without trouble; but a diabolical procedure had been setup by the enemy. At one and the same moment there had risen abovethe shoulders of the crowd, nearly opposite Mr. Brooke, and withinten yards of him, the effigy of himself: buff-colored waistcoat,eye-glass, and neutral physiognomy, painted on rag; and therehad arisen, apparently in the air, like the note of the cuckoo,a parrot-like, Punch-voiced echo of his words. Everybody lookedup at the open windows in the houses at the opposite anglesof the converging streets; but they were either blank, or filledby laughing listeners. The most innocent echo has an impish mockeryin it when it follows a gravely persistent speaker, and this echowas not at all innocent; if it did not follow with the precisionof a natural echo, it had a wicked choice of the words it overtook.By the time it said, "The Baltic, now," the laugh which had beenrunning through the audience became a general shout, and but forthe sobering effects of party and that great public cause whichthe entanglement of things had identified with "Brooke of Tipton,"the laugh might have caught his committee. Mr. Bulstrode asked,reprehensively, what the new police was doing; but a voice could notwell be collared, and an attack on the effigy of the candidate wouldhave been too equivocal, since Hawley probably meant it to be pelted.
Mr. Brooke himself was not in a position to be quickly consciousof anything except a general slipping away of ideas within himself:he had even a little singing in the ears, and he was the only personwho had not yet taken distinct account of the echo or discerned theimage of himself. Few things hold the perceptions more thoroughlycaptive than anxiety about what we have got to say. Mr. Brooke heardthe laughter; but he had expected some Tory efforts at disturbance,and he was at this moment additionally excited by the tickling,stinging sense that his lost exordium was coming back to fetch himfrom the Baltic.