THE CLERICAL COMMISSION.
It was at last arranged that the five clergymen selected should meet
at Dr. Tempest's house in Silverbridge to make inquiry and report to
the bishop whether the circumstances connected with the cheque for
twenty pounds were of such a nature as to make it incumbent on him
to institute proceedings against Mr. Crawley in the Court of Arches.
Dr. Tempest had acted upon the letter which he had received from the
bishop, exactly as though there had been no meeting at the palace, no
quarrel to the death between him and Mrs. Proudie. He was a prudent
man, gifted with the great power of holding his tongue, and had not
spoken a word, even to his wife, of what had occurred. After such
a victory our old friend the archdeacon would have blown his own
trumpet loudly among his friends. Plumstead would have heard of it
instantly, and the pæan would have been sung out in the neighbouring
parishes of Eiderdown, Stogpingum, and St. Ewolds. The high-street of
Barchester would have known of it, and the very bedesmen in Hiram's
Hospital would have told among themselves the terrible discomfiture
of the bishop and his lady. But Dr. Tempest spoke no word of it to
anybody. He wrote letters to the two clergymen named by the bishop,
and himself selected two others out of his own rural deanery, and
suggested to them all a day at which a preliminary meeting should
be held at his own house. The two who were invited by him were Mr.
Oriel, the rector of Greshamsbury, and Mr. Robarts, the vicar of
Framley. They all assented to the proposition, and on the day named
assembled themselves at Silverbridge.
It was now April, and the judges were to come into Barchester
before the end of the month. What then could be the use of this
ecclesiastical inquiry exactly at the same time? Men and women
declared that it was a double prosecution, and that a double
prosecution for the same offence was a course of action opposed to
the feelings and traditions of the country. Miss Anne Prettyman
went so far as to say that it was unconstitutional, and Mary Walker
declared that no human being except Mrs. Proudie would ever have been
guilty of such cruelty. "Don't tell me about the bishop, John," she
said; "the bishop is a cypher." "You may be sure Dr. Tempest would
not have a hand in it if it were not right," said John Walker. "My
dear Mr. John," said Miss Anne Prettyman, "Dr. Tempest is as hard as
a bar of iron, and always was. But I am surprised that Mr. Robarts
should take a part in it."
In the meantime, at the palace, Mrs. Proudie had been reduced to
learn what was going on from Mr. Thumble. The bishop had never spoken
a word to her respecting Mr. Crawley since that terrible day on which
Dr. Tempest had witnessed his imbecility,--having absolutely declined
to answer when his wife had mentioned the subject. "You won't speak
to me about it, my dear?" she had said to him, when he had thus
declined, remonstrating more in sorrow than in anger. "No; I won't,"
the bishop had replied; "there has been a great deal too much talking
about it. It has broken my heart already, I know." These were very
bad days in the palace. Mrs. Proudie affected to be satisfied with
what was being done. She talked to Mr. Thumble about Mr. Crawley
and the cheque, as though everything were arranged quite to her
satisfaction,--as though everything, indeed, had been arranged by
herself. But everybody about the house could see that the manner of
the woman was altogether altered. She was milder than usual with the
servants and was almost too gentle in her usage of her husband. It
seemed as though something had happened to frighten her and break
her spirit, and it was whispered about through the palace that she
was afraid that the bishop was dying. As for him, he hardly left his
own sitting-room in these days, except when he joined the family at
breakfast and at dinner. And in his study he did little or nothing.
He would smile when his chaplain went to him, and give some trifling
verbal directions; but for days he scarcely ever took a pen in his
hands, and though he took up many books he read hardly a page. How
often he told his wife in those days that he was broken-hearted, no
one but his wife ever knew.
"What has happened that you should speak like that?" she said to him
once. "What has broken your heart?"
"You," he replied. "You; you have done it."
"Oh, Tom," she said, going back into the memory of very far distant
days in her nomenclature, "how can you speak to me so cruelly as
that! That it should come to that between you and me, after all!"
"Why did you not go away and leave me that day when I told you?"
"Did you ever know a woman who liked to be turned out of a room in
her own house?" said Mrs. Proudie. When Mrs. Proudie had condescended
so far as this, it must be admitted that in those days there was
great trouble in the palace.
Mr. Thumble, on the day before he went to Silverbridge, asked for an
audience with the bishop in order that he might receive instructions.
He had been strictly desired to do this by Mrs. Proudie, and had not
dared to disobey her injunctions,--thinking, however, himself, that
his doing so was inexpedient. "I have got nothing to say to you about
it; not a word," said the bishop crossly. "I thought that perhaps
you might like to see me before I started," pleaded Mr. Thumble very
humbly. "I don't want to see you at all," said the bishop; "you are
going there to exercise your own judgment,--if you have got any;
and you ought not to come to me." After that Mr. Thumble began to
think that Mrs. Proudie was right, and that the bishop was near his
dissolution.
Mr. Thumble and Mr. Quiverful went over to Silverbridge together in
a gig, hired from the "Dragon of Wantly"--as to the cost of which
there arose among them a not unnatural apprehension which amounted
at last almost to dismay. "I don't mind it so much for once," said
Mr. Quiverful, "but if many such meetings are necessary, I for one
can't afford it, and I won't do it. A man with my family can't allow
himself to be money out of pocket in that way." "It is hard," said
Mr. Thumble. "She ought to pay it herself, out of her own pocket,"
said Mr. Quiverful. He had had concerns with the palace when Mrs.
Proudie was in the full swing of her dominion, and had not as yet
begun to suspect that there might possibly be a change.
Mr. Oriel and Mr. Robarts were already sitting with Dr. Tempest when
the other two clergymen were shown into the room. When the first
greetings were over luncheon was announced, and while they were
eating not a word was said about Mr. Crawley. The ladies of the
family were not present, and the five clergymen sat round the table
alone. It would have been difficult to have got together five
gentlemen less likely to act with one mind and one spirit;--and
perhaps it was all the better for Mr. Crawley that it should be so.
Dr. Tempest himself was a man peculiarly capable of exercising the
functions of a judge in such a matter, had he sat alone as a judge;
but he was one who would be almost sure to differ from others who sat
as equal assessors with him. Mr. Oriel was a gentleman at all points;
but he was very shy, very reticent, and altogether uninstructed in
the ordinary daily intercourse of man with man. Any one knowing him
might have predicted of him that he would be sure on such an occasion
as this to be found floundering in a sea of doubts. Mr. Quiverful was
the father of a large family, whose whole life had been devoted to
fighting a cruel world on behalf of his wife and children. That fight
he had fought bravely; but it had left him no energy for any other
business. Mr. Thumble was a poor creature,--so poor a creature that,
in spite of a small restless ambition to be doing something, he was
almost cowed by the hard lines of Dr. Tempest's brow. The Rev. Mark
Robarts was a man of the world, and a clever fellow, and did not
stand in awe of anybody,--unless it might be, in a very moderate
degree, of his patrons the Luftons, whom he was bound to respect;
but his cleverness was not the cleverness needed by a judge. He was
essentially a partisan, and would be sure to vote against the bishop
in such a matter as this now before him. There was a palace faction
in the diocese, and an anti-palace faction. Mr. Thumble and Mr.
Quiverful belonged to one, and Mr. Oriel and Mr. Robarts to the
other. Mr. Thumble was too weak to stick to his faction against the
strength of such a man as Dr. Tempest. Mr. Quiverful would be too
indifferent to do so,--unless his interest were concerned. Mr. Oriel
would be too conscientious to regard his own side on such an occasion
as this. But Mark Robarts would be sure to support his friends and
oppose his enemies, let the case be what it might. "Now, gentlemen,
if you please, we will go into the other room," said Dr. Tempest.
They went into the other room, and there they found five chairs
arranged for them round the table. Not a word had as yet been said
about Mr. Crawley, and no one of the four strangers knew whether Mr.
Crawley was to appear before them on that day or not.
"Gentlemen," said Dr. Tempest, seating himself at once in an
arm-chair placed at the middle of the table, "I think it will be
well to explain to you at first what, as I regard the matter, is the
extent of the work which we are called upon to perform. It is of its
nature very disagreeable. It cannot but be so, let it be ever so
limited. Here is a brother clergyman and a gentleman, living among
us, and doing his duty, as we are told, in a most exemplary manner;
and suddenly we hear that he is accused of a theft. The matter is
brought before the magistrates, of whom I myself was one, and he was
committed for trial. There is therefore primâ facie evidence of his
guilt. But I do not think that we need go into the question of his
guilt at all." When he said this, the other four all looked up at
him in astonishment. "I thought that we had been summoned here for
that purpose," said Mr. Robarts. "Not at all, as I take it," said
the doctor. "Were we to commence any such inquiry, the jury would
have given their verdict before we could come to any conclusion; and
it would be impossible for us to oppose that verdict, whether it
declares this unfortunate gentleman to be innocent or to be guilty.
If the jury shall say that he is innocent, there is an end of the
matter altogether. He would go back to his parish amidst the sympathy
and congratulations of his friends. That is what we should all wish."
"Of course it is," said Mr. Robarts. They all declared that was their
desire, as a matter of course; and Mr. Thumble said it louder than
any one else.
"But if he be found guilty, then will come that difficulty to the
bishop, in which we are bound to give him any assistance within our
power."
"Of course we are," said Mr. Thumble, who, having heard his own voice
once, and having liked the sound, thought that he might creep into a
little importance by using it on any occasion that opened itself for
him.
"If you will allow me, sir, I will venture to state my views as
shortly as I can," said Dr. Tempest. "That may perhaps be the most
expeditious course for us all in the end."
"Oh, certainly," said Mr. Thumble. "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"In the case of his being found guilty," continued the doctor, "there
will arise the question whether the punishment awarded to him by
the judge should suffice for ecclesiastical purposes. Suppose, for
instance, that he should be imprisoned for two months, should he be
allowed to return to his living at the expiration of that term?"
"I think he ought," said Mr. Robarts;--"considering all things."
"I don't see why he shouldn't," said Mr. Quiverful.
Mr. Oriel sat listening patiently, and Mr. Thumble looked up to the
doctor, expecting to hear some opinion expressed by him with which he
might coincide.
"There certainly are reasons why he should not," said Dr. Tempest;
"though I by no means say that those reasons are conclusive in the
present case. In the first place, a man who has stolen money can
hardly be a fitting person to teach others not to steal."
"You must look to the circumstances," said Robarts.
"Yes, that is true; but just bear with me a moment. It cannot, at any
rate, be thought that a clergyman should come out of prison and go
to his living without any notice from his bishop, simply because he
has already been punished under the common law. If this were so, a
clergyman might be fined ten days running for being drunk in the
street,--five shillings each time,--and at the end of that time might
set his bishop at defiance. When a clergyman has shown himself to
be utterly unfit for clerical duties, he must not be held to be
protected from ecclesiastical censure or from deprivation by the
action of the common law."
"But Mr. Crawley has not shown himself to be unfit," said Robarts.
"That is begging the question, Robarts," said the doctor.
"Just so," said Mr. Thumble. Then Mr. Robarts gave a look at Mr.
Thumble, and Mr. Thumble retired into his shoes.
"That is the question as to which we are called upon to advise the
bishop," continued Dr. Tempest. "And I must say that I think the
bishop is right. If he were to allow the matter to pass by without
notice,--that is to say, in the event of Mr. Crawley being pronounced
to be guilty by a jury,--he would, I think, neglect his duty. Now,
I have been informed that the bishop has recommended Mr. Crawley to
desist from his duties till the trial be over, and that Mr. Crawley
has declined to take the bishop's advice."
"That is true," said Mr. Thumble. "He altogether disregarded the
bishop."
"I cannot say that I think he was wrong," said Dr. Tempest.
"I think he was quite right," said Mr. Robarts.
"A bishop in almost all cases is entitled to the obedience of his
clergy," said Mr. Oriel.
"I must say that I agree with you, sir," said Mr. Thumble.
"The income is not large, and I suppose that it would have gone with
the duties," said Mr. Quiverful. "It is very hard for a man with a
family to live when his income has been stopped."
"Be that as it may," continued the doctor, "the bishop feels that it
may be his duty to oppose the return of Mr. Crawley to his pulpit,
and that he can oppose it in no other way than by proceeding against
Mr. Crawley under the Clerical Offences Act. I propose, therefore,
that we should invite Mr. Crawley to attend here--"
"Mr. Crawley is not coming here to-day, then?" said Mr. Robarts.
"I thought it useless to ask for his attendance until we had settled
on our course of action," said Dr. Tempest. "If we are all agreed,
I will beg him to come here on this day week, when we will meet
again. And we will then ask him whether he will submit himself to the
bishop's decision, in the event of the jury finding him guilty. If
he should decline to do so, we can only then form our opinion as to
what will be the bishop's duty by reference to the facts as they are
elicited at the trial. If Mr. Crawley should choose to make to us
any statement as to his own case, of course we shall be willing to
receive it. That is my idea of what had better be done; and now, if
any gentleman has any other proposition to make, of course we shall
be pleased to hear him." Dr. Tempest, as he said this, looked round
upon his companions, as though his pleasure, under the circumstances
suggested by himself, would be very doubtful.
"I don't suppose we can do anything better," said Mr. Robarts. "I
think it a pity, however, that any steps should have been taken by
the bishop before the trial."
"The bishop has been placed in a very delicate position," said Mr.
Thumble, pleading for his patron.
"I don't know the meaning of the word 'delicate,'" said Robarts.
"I think his duty was very clear, to avoid interference whilst the
matter is, so to say, before the judge."
"Nobody has anything else to propose?" said Dr. Tempest. "Then I will
write to Mr. Crawley, and you, gentlemen, will perhaps do me the
honour of meeting me here at one o'clock on this day week." Then the
meeting was over, and the four clergymen having shaken hands with Dr.
Tempest in the hall, all promised that they would return on that day
week. So far, Dr. Tempest had carried his point exactly as he might
have done had the four gentlemen been represented by the chairs on
which they had sat.
"I shan't come again, all the same, unless I know where I'm to get my
expenses," said Mr. Quiverful, as he got into the gig.
"I shall come," said Mr. Thumble, "because I think it a duty. Of
course it is a hardship." Mr. Thumble liked the idea of being joined
with such men as Dr. Tempest, and Mr. Oriel, and Mr. Robarts, and
would any day have paid the expense of a gig from Barchester to
Silverbridge out of his own pocket, for the sake of sitting with such
benchfellows on any clerical inquiry.
"One's first duty is to one's own wife and family," said Mr.
Quiverful.
"Well, yes; in a way, of course, that is quite true, Mr. Quiverful;
and when we know how very inadequate are the incomes of the working
clergy, we cannot but feel ourselves to be, if I may so say, put
upon, when we have to defray the expenses incidental to special
duties out of our own pockets. I think, you know,--I don't mind
saying this to you,--that the palace should have provided us with
a chaise and pair." This was ungrateful on the part of Mr. Thumble,
who had been permitted to ride miles upon miles to various outlying
clerical duties upon the bishop's worn-out cob. "You see," continued
Mr. Thumble, "you and I go specially to represent the palace, and the
palace ought to remember that. I think there ought to have been a
chaise and pair; I do indeed."
"I don't care much what the conveyance is," said Mr. Quiverful; "but
I certainly shall pay nothing more out of my own pocket;--certainly I
shall not."
"The result will be that the palace will be thrown over if they
don't take care," said Mr. Thumble. "Tempest, however, seems to be
pretty steady. Tempest, I think, is steady. You see he is getting
tired of parish work, and would like to go into the close. That's
what he is looking out for. Did you ever see such a fellow as that
Robarts,--just look at him;--quite indecent, wasn't he? He thinks he
can have his own way in everything, just because his sister married a
lord. I do hate to see all that meanness."
Mark Robarts and Caleb Oriel left Silverbridge in another gig by the
same road, and soon passed their brethren, as Mr. Robarts was in the
habit of driving a large, quick-stepping horse. The last remarks were
being made as the dust from the vicar of Framley's wheels saluted the
faces of the two slower clergymen. Mr. Oriel had promised to dine and
sleep at Framley, and therefore returned in Mr. Robarts' gig.
"Quite unnecessary, all this fuss; don't you think so?" said Mr.
Robarts.
"I am not quite sure," said Mr. Oriel. "I can understand that the
bishop may have found a difficulty."
"The bishop, indeed! The bishop doesn't care two straws about it.
It's Mrs. Proudie! She has put her finger on the poor man's neck
because he has not put his neck beneath her feet; and now she thinks
she can crush him,--as she would crush you or me, if it were in
her power. That's about the long and the short of the bishop's
solicitude."
"You are very hard on him," said Mr. Oriel.
"I know him;--and am not at all hard on him. She is hard upon him if
you like. Tempest is fair. He is very fair, and as long as no one
meddles with him he won't do amiss. I can't hold my tongue always,
but I often know that it is better that I should."
Dr. Tempest said not a word to any one on the subject, not even in
his own defence. And yet he was sorely tempted. On the very day of
the meeting he dined at Mr. Walker's in Silverbridge, and there
submitted to be talked at by all the ladies and most of the gentlemen
present, without saying a word in his own defence. And yet a word or
two would have been so easy and so conclusive.
"Oh, Dr. Tempest," said Mary Walker, "I am so sorry that you have
joined the bishop."
"Are you, my dear?" said he. "It is generally thought well that a
parish clergyman should agree with his bishop."
"But you know, Dr. Tempest, that you don't agree with your bishop
generally."
"Then it is the more fortunate that I shall be able to agree with him
on this occasion."
Major Grantly was present at the dinner, and ventured to ask the
doctor in the course of the evening what he thought would be done.
"I should not venture to ask such a question, Dr. Tempest," he said,
"unless I had the strongest possible reason to justify my anxiety."
"I don't know that I can tell you anything, Major Grantly," said the
doctor. "We did not even see Mr. Crawley to-day. But the real truth
is that he must stand or fall as the jury shall find him guilty or
not guilty. It would be the same in any profession. Could a captain
in the army hold up his head in his regiment after he had been tried
and found guilty of stealing twenty pounds?"
"I don't think he could," said the major.
"Neither can a clergyman," said the doctor. "The bishop can neither
make him nor mar him. It is the jury that must do it."