<p><SPAN name="7"></SPAN> </p>
<h3>Chapter VII<br/> <br/> <span class="smallcaps"><i>The Jupiter</i></span></h3>
<p> </p>
<p>Though Eleanor Harding rode off from John Bold on a high horse,
it must not be supposed that her heart was so elate as her
demeanour. In the first place, she had a natural repugnance to
losing her lover; and in the next, she was not quite so sure that
she was in the right as she pretended to be. Her father had told
her, and that now repeatedly, that Bold was doing nothing unjust
or ungenerous; and why then should she rebuke him, and throw him
off, when she felt herself so ill able to bear his loss?—but
such is human nature, and young-lady-nature especially.</p>
<p>As she walked off from him beneath the shady elms of the close,
her look, her tone, every motion and gesture of her body, belied
her heart; she would have given the world to have taken him by the
hand, to have reasoned with him, persuaded him, cajoled him,
coaxed him out of his project; to have overcome him with all her
female artillery, and to have redeemed her father at the cost of
herself; but pride would not let her do this, and she left him
without a look of love or a word of kindness.</p>
<p>Had Bold been judging of another lover and of another
lady, he might have understood all this as well as we do; but
in matters of love men do not see clearly in their own affairs.
They say that faint heart never won fair lady; and it is
amazing to me how fair ladies are won, so faint are often men's
hearts! Were it not for the kindness of their nature, that
seeing the weakness of our courage they will occasionally
descend from their impregnable fortresses, and themselves aid
us in effecting their own defeat, too often would they escape
unconquered if not unscathed, and free of body if not of heart.</p>
<p>Poor Bold crept off quite crestfallen; he felt that as regarded
Eleanor Harding his fate was sealed, unless he could consent
to give up a task to which he had pledged himself, and which
indeed it would not be easy for him to give up. Lawyers were
engaged, and the question had to a certain extent been taken
up by the public; besides, how could a high-spirited girl like
Eleanor Harding really learn to love a man for neglecting a
duty which he assumed! Could she allow her affection to be
purchased at the cost of his own self-respect?</p>
<p>As regarded the issue of his attempt at reformation in the
hospital, Bold had no reason hitherto to be discontented with
his success. All Barchester was by the ears about it. The
bishop, the archdeacon, the warden, the steward, and several
other clerical allies, had daily meetings, discussing their tactics,
and preparing for the great attack. Sir Abraham Haphazard
had been consulted, but his opinion was not yet received:
copies of Hiram's will, copies of wardens' journals, copies of
leases, copies of accounts, copies of everything that could be
copied, and of some that could not, had been sent to him;
and the case was assuming most creditable dimensions. But,
above all, it had been mentioned in the daily <i>Jupiter</i>.
That all-powerful organ of the press in one of its leading
thunderbolts launched at St Cross, had thus remarked: "Another
case, of smaller dimensions indeed, but of similar import, is now
likely to come under public notice. We are informed that the
warden or master of an old almshouse attached to Barchester
Cathedral is in receipt of twenty-five times the annual income
appointed for him by the will of the founder, while the sum
yearly expended on the absolute purposes of the charity has
always remained fixed. In other words, the legatees under
the founder's will have received no advantage from the increase
in the value of the property during the last four centuries,
such increase having been absorbed by the so-called warden.
It is impossible to conceive a case of greater injustice.
It is no answer to say that some six or nine or twelve old men
receive as much of the goods of this world as such old men
require. On what foundation, moral or divine, traditional or
legal, is grounded the warden's claim to the large income he
receives for doing nothing? The contentment of these almsmen,
if content they be, can give him no title to this wealth!
Does he ever ask himself, when he stretches wide his clerical
palm to receive the pay of some dozen of the working clergy,
for what service he is so remunerated? Does his conscience
ever entertain the question of his right to such subsidies? Or
is it possible that the subject never so presents itself to his
mind; that he has received for many years, and intends,
should God spare him, to receive for years to come these fruits
of the industrious piety of past ages, indifferent as to any right
on his own part, or of any injustice to others! We must
express an opinion that nowhere but in the Church of England,
and only there among its priests, could such a state of moral
indifference be found."</p>
<p>I must for the present leave my readers to imagine the state
of Mr Harding's mind after reading the above article. They
say that forty thousand copies of <i>The Jupiter</i> are daily
sold, and that each copy is read by five
persons at the least. Two hundred
thousand readers then would hear this accusation against him;
two hundred thousand hearts would swell with indignation at
the griping injustice, the barefaced robbery of the warden
of Barchester Hospital! And how was he to answer this? How
was he to open his inmost heart to this multitude, to these
thousands, the educated, the polished, the picked men of
his own country; how show them that he was no robber, no
avaricious, lazy priest scrambling for gold, but a retiring,
humble-spirited man, who had innocently taken what had
innocently been offered to him?</p>
<p>"Write to <i>The Jupiter</i>," suggested the bishop.</p>
<p>"Yes," said the archdeacon, more worldly wise than his
father, "yes, and be smothered with ridicule; tossed over and
over again with scorn; shaken this way and that, as a rat in
the mouth of a practised terrier. You will leave out some
word or letter in your answer, and the ignorance of the cathedral
clergy will be harped upon; you will make some small
mistake, which will be a falsehood, or some admission, which
will be self-condemnation; you will find yourself to have
been vulgar, ill-tempered, irreverend, and illiterate, and the
chances are ten to one, but that being a clergyman, you will
have been guilty of blasphemy! A man may have the best of
causes, the best of talents, and the best of tempers; he may write
as well as Addison, or as strongly as Junius; but even with all
this he cannot successfully answer, when attacked by <i>The
Jupiter</i>. In such matters it is omnipotent. What
the Czar is in Russia, or the mob in America,
that <i>The Jupiter</i> is in England. Answer
such an article! No, warden; whatever you do, don't do that.
We were to look for this sort of thing, you know; but we need
not draw down on our heads more of it than is necessary."</p>
<p>The article in <i>The Jupiter</i>, while it so greatly
harassed our poor warden, was an immense triumph to some
of the opposite party. Sorry as Bold was to
see Mr Harding attacked so personally,
it still gave him a feeling of elation to find his cause taken up
by so powerful an advocate: and as to Finney, the attorney, he
was beside himself. What! to be engaged in the same cause and on
the same side with <i>The Jupiter</i>; to have the views he had
recommended seconded, and furthered, and battled for by <i>The
Jupiter</i>! Perhaps to have his own name mentioned as that of the
learned gentleman whose efforts had been so successful on behalf
of the poor of Barchester! He might be examined before committees
of the House of Commons, with heaven knows how much a day for his
personal expenses;—he might be engaged for years on such a suit!
There was no end to the glorious golden dreams which this
leader in <i>The Jupiter</i> produced in the soaring mind of
Finney.</p>
<p>And the old bedesmen, they also heard of this article, and
had a glimmering, indistinct idea of the marvellous advocate
which had now taken up their cause. Abel Handy limped
hither and thither through the rooms, repeating all that he
understood to have been printed, with some additions of his
own which he thought should have been added. He told
them how <i>The Jupiter</i> had declared that their warden was no
better than a robber, and that what <i>The Jupiter</i> said was
acknowledged by the world to be true. How <i>The Jupiter</i> had
affirmed that each one of them—"each one of us, Jonathan
Crumple, think of that!"—had a clear right to a hundred a
year; and that if <i>The Jupiter</i> had said so, it was better
than a decision of the Lord Chancellor: and then he carried about
the paper, supplied by Mr Finney, which, though none of
them could read it, still afforded in its very touch and aspect
positive corroboration of what was told them; and Jonathan
Crumple pondered deeply over his returning wealth; and
Job Skulpit saw how right he had been in signing the petition,
and said so many scores of times; and Spriggs leered fearfully
with his one eye; and Moody, as he more nearly approached
the coming golden age, hated more deeply than ever those who
still kept possession of what he so coveted. Even Billy Gazy and
poor bed-ridden Bell became active and uneasy, and the great
Bunce stood apart with lowering brow, with deep grief seated
in his heart, for he perceived that evil days were coming.</p>
<p>It had been decided, the archdeacon advising, that no
remonstrance, explanation, or defence should be addressed from
the Barchester conclave to the editor of <i>The Jupiter</i>; but
hitherto that was the only decision to which they had come.</p>
<p>Sir Abraham Haphazard was deeply engaged in preparing
a bill for the mortification of papists, to be called the "Convent
Custody Bill," the purport of which was to enable any Protestant
clergyman over fifty years of age to search any nun whom he
suspected of being in possession of treasonable papers or
Jesuitical symbols; and as there were to be a hundred and
thirty-seven clauses in the bill, each clause containing a
separate thorn for the side of the papist, and as it was known
the bill would be fought inch by inch, by fifty maddened
Irishmen, the due construction and adequate dovetailing of
it did consume much of Sir Abraham's time. The bill had all
its desired effect. Of course it never passed into law; but it
so completely divided the ranks of the Irish members, who had
bound themselves together to force on the ministry a bill for
compelling all men to drink Irish whiskey, and all women to
wear Irish poplins, that for the remainder of the session the
Great Poplin and Whiskey League was utterly harmless.</p>
<p>Thus it happened that Sir Abraham's opinion was not at once
forthcoming, and the uncertainty, the expectation, and suffering
of the folk of Barchester was maintained at a high pitch.</p>
<p> </p>
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