'EVERYBODY'S BUSINESS.'
BUT there arose a trouble greater than that occasioned by the 'Broughton
Gazette.' There came out an article in a London weekly newspaper, called
'Everybody's Business,' which nearly drove the Doctor mad. This was on
the last Saturday of the holidays. The holidays had been commenced in the
middle of July, and went on till the end of August. Things had not gone
well at Bowick during these weeks. The parents of all the four
newly-expected boys had--changed their minds. One father had discovered
that he could not afford it. Another declared that the mother could not
be got to part with her darling quite so soon as he had expected. A third
had found that a private tutor at home would best suit his purposes.
While the fourth boldly said that he did not like to send his boy because
of the "fuss" which had been made about Mr. and Mrs. Peacocke. Had this
last come alone, the Doctor would probably have resented such a
communication; but following the others as it did, he preferred the fourth
man to any of the other three. "Miserable cowards," he said to himself,
as he docketed the letters and put them away. But the greatest blow of
all,--of all blows of this sort,--came to him from poor Lady Anne
Clifford. She wrote a piteous letter to him, in which she implored him to
allow her to take her two boys away.
"My dear Doctor Wortle," she said, "so many people have been telling so
many dreadful things about this horrible affair, that I do not dare to
send my darling boys back to Bowick again. Uncle Clifford and Lord Robert
both say that I should be very wrong. The Marchioness has said so much
about it that I dare not go against her. You know what my own feelings
are about you and dear Mrs. Wortle; but I am not my own mistress. They
all tell me that it is my first duty to think about the dear boys'
welfare; and of course that is true. I hope you won't be very angry with
me, and will write one line to say that you forgive me.--Yours most
sincerely,
"ANNE CLIFFORD."
In answer to this the Doctor did write as follows;--
"MY DEAR LADY ANNE,--Of course your duty is very plain,--to do what you
think best for the boys; and it is natural enough that you should follow
the advice of your relatives and theirs.--Faithfully yours,
"JEFFREY WORTLE."
He could not bring himself to write in a more friendly tone, or to tell
her that he forgave her. His sympathies were not with her. His
sympathies at the present moment were only with Mrs. Peacocke. But then
Lady Anne Clifford was not a beautiful woman, as was Mrs. Peacocke.
This was a great blow. Two other boys had also been summoned away, making
five in all, whose premature departure was owing altogether to the
virulent tongue of that wretched old Mother Shipton. And there had been
four who were to come in the place of four others, who, in the course of
nature, were going to carry on their more advanced studies elsewhere.
Vacancies such as these had always been pre-occupied long beforehand by
ambitious parents. These very four places had been pre-occupied, but now
they were all vacant. There would be nine empty beds in the school when
it met again after the holidays; and the Doctor well understood that nine
beds remaining empty would soon cause others to be emptied. It is success
that creates success, and decay that produces decay. Gradual decay he
knew that he could not endure. He must shut up his school,--give up his
employment,--and retire altogether from the activity of life. He felt
that if it came to this with him he must in very truth turn his face to
the wall and die. Would it,--would it really come to that, that Mrs.
Stantiloup should have altogether conquered him in the combat that had
sprung up between them?
But yet he would not give up Mrs. Peacocke. Indeed, circumstanced as he
was, he could not give her up. He had promised not only her, but her
absent husband, that until his return there should be a home for her in
the school-house. There would be a cowardice in going back from his word
which was altogether foreign to his nature. He could not bring himself to
retire from the fight, even though by doing so he might save himself from
the actual final slaughter which seemed to be imminent. He thought only
of making fresh attacks upon his enemy, instead of meditating flight from
those which were made upon him. As a dog, when another dog has got him
well by the ear, thinks not at all of his own wound, but only how he may
catch his enemy by the lip, so was the Doctor in regard to Mrs.
Stantiloup. When the two Clifford boys were taken away, he took some joy
to himself in remembering that Mr. Stantiloup could not pay his butcher's
bill.
Then, just at the end of the holidays, some good-natured friend sent to
him a copy of 'Everybody's Business.' There is no duty which a man owes to
himself more clearly than that of throwing into the waste-paper basket,
unsearched and even unopened, all newspapers sent to him without a
previously-declared purpose. The sender has either written something
himself which he wishes to force you to read, or else he has been desirous
of wounding you by some ill-natured criticism upon yourself. 'Everybody's
Business' was a paper which, in the natural course of things, did not find
its way into the Bowick Rectory; and the Doctor, though he was no doubt
acquainted with the title, had never even looked at its columns. It was
the purpose of the periodical to amuse its readers, as its name declared,
with the private affairs of their neighbours. It went boldly about its
work, excusing itself by the assertion that Jones was just as well
inclined to be talked about as Smith was to hear whatever could be said
about Jones. As both parties were served, what could be the objection?
It was in the main good-natured, and probably did most frequently gratify
the Joneses, while it afforded considerable amusement to the listless and
numerous Smiths of the world. If you can't read and understand Jones's
speech in Parliament, you may at any rate have mind enough to interest
yourself with the fact that he never composed a word of it in his own room
without a ring on his finger and a flower in his button-hole. It may also
be agreeable to know that Walker the poet always takes a mutton-chop and
two glasses of sherry at half-past one. 'Everybody's Business' did this
for everybody to whom such excitement was agreeable. But in managing
everybody's business in that fashion, let a writer be as good-natured as
he may and let the principle be ever so well-founded that nobody is to be
hurt, still there are dangers. It is not always easy to know what will
hurt and what will not. And then sometimes there will come a temptation
to be, not spiteful, but specially amusing. There must be danger, and a
writer will sometimes be indiscreet. Personalities will lead to libels
even when the libeller has been most innocent. It may be that after all
the poor poet never drank a glass of sherry before dinner in his life,--it
may be that a little toast-and-water, even with his dinner, gives him all
the refreshment that he wants, and that two glasses of alcoholic mixture
in the middle of the day shall seem, when imputed to him, to convey a
charge of downright inebriety. But the writer has perhaps learned to
regard two glasses of meridian wine as but a moderate amount of
sustentation. This man is much flattered if it be given to be understood
of him that he falls in love with every pretty woman that he
sees;--whereas another will think that he has been made subject to a foul
calumny by such insinuation.
'Everybody's Business' fell into some such mistake as this, in that very
amusing article which was written for the delectation of its readers in
reference to Dr. Wortle and Mrs. Peacocke. The 'Broughton Gazette' no
doubt confined itself to the clerical and highly moral views of the case,
and, having dealt with the subject chiefly on behalf of the Close and the
admirers of the Close, had made no allusion to the fact that Mrs. Peacocke
was a very pretty woman. One or two other local papers had been more
scurrilous, and had, with ambiguous and timid words, alluded to the
Doctor's personal admiration for the lady. These, or the rumours created
by them, had reached one of the funniest and lightest-handed of the
contributors to 'Everybody's Business,' and he had concocted an amusing
article,--which he had not intended to be at all libellous, which he had
thought to be only funny. He had not appreciated, probably, the tragedy
of the lady's position, or the sanctity of that of the gentleman. There
was comedy in the idea of the Doctor having sent one husband away to
America to look after the other while he consoled the wife in England.
"It must be admitted," said the writer, "that the Doctor has the best of
it. While one gentleman is gouging the other,--as cannot but be
expected,--the Doctor will be at any rate in security, enjoying the smiles
of beauty under his own fig-tree at Bowick. After a hot morning with
'_tupto_' in the school, there will be 'amo' in the cool of the evening."
And this was absolutely sent to him by some good-natured friend!
The funny writer obtained a popularity wider probably than he had
expected. His words reached Mrs. Stantiloup, as well as the Doctor, and
were read even in the Bishop's palace. They were quoted even in the
'Broughton Gazette,' not with approbation, but in a high tone of moral
severity. "See the nature of the language to which Dr. Wortle's conduct
has subjected the whole of the diocese!" That was the tone of the
criticism made by the 'Broughton Gazette' on the article in 'Everybody's
Business.' "What else has he a right to expect?" said Mrs. Stantiloup to
Mrs. Rolland, having made quite a journey into Broughton for the sake of
discussing it at the palace. There she explained it all to Mrs. Rolland,
having herself studied the passage so as fully to appreciate the virus
contained in it. "He passes all the morning in the school whipping the
boys himself because he has sent Mr. Peacocke away, and then amuses
himself in the evening by making love to Mr. Peacocke's wife, as he calls
her." Dr. Wortle, when he read and re-read the article, and when the jokes
which were made upon it reached his ears, as they were sure to do, was
nearly maddened by what he called the heartless iniquity of the world; but
his state became still worse when he received an affectionate but solemn
letter from the Bishop warning him of his danger. An affectionate letter
from a bishop must surely be the most disagreeable missive which a parish
clergyman can receive. Affection from one man to another is not natural
in letters. A bishop never writes affectionately unless he means to
reprove severely. When he calls a clergyman his "dear brother in Christ,"
he is sure to go on to show that the man so called is altogether unworthy
of the name. So it was with a letter now received at Bowick, in which the
Bishop expressed his opinion that Dr. Wortle ought not to pay any further
visits to Mrs. Peacocke till she should have settled herself down with one
legitimate husband, let that legitimate husband be who it might. The
Bishop did not indeed, at first, make reference by name to 'Everybody's
Business,' but he stated that the "metropolitan press" had taken up the
matter, and that scandal would take place in the diocese if further cause
were given. "It is not enough to be innocent," said the Bishop, "but men
must know that we are so."
Then there came a sharp and pressing correspondence between the Bishop and
the Doctor, which lasted four or five days. The Doctor, without referring
to any other portion of the Bishop's letter, demanded to know to what
"metropolitan newspaper" the Bishop had alluded, as, if any such paper had
spread scandalous imputations as to him, the Doctor, respecting the lady
in question, it would be his, the Doctor's, duty to proceed against that
newspaper for libel. In answer to this the Bishop, in a note much shorter
and much less affectionate than his former letter, said that he did not
wish to name any metropolitan newspaper. But the Doctor would not, of
course, put up with such an answer as this. He wrote very solemnly now,
if not affectionately. "His lordship had spoken of 'scandal in the
diocese.' The words," said the Doctor, "contained a most grave charge. He
did not mean to say that any such accusation had been made by the Bishop
himself; but such accusation must have been made by some one at least of
the London newspapers or the Bishop would not have been justified in what
he has written. Under such circumstances he, Dr. Wortle, thought himself
entitled to demand from the Bishop the name of the newspaper in question,
and the date on which the article had appeared."
In answer to this there came no written reply, but a copy of the
'Everybody's Business' which the Doctor had already seen. He had, no
doubt, known from the first that it was the funny paragraph about
'_tupto_' and "amo" to which the Bishop had referred. But in the serious
steps which he now intended to take, he was determined to have positive
proof from the hands of the Bishop himself. The Bishop had not directed
the pernicious newspaper with his own hands, but if called upon, could not
deny that it had been sent from the palace by his orders. Having received
it, the Doctor wrote back at once as follows;--
"RIGHT REVEREND AND DEAR LORD,--Any word coming from your lordship to me
is of grave importance, as should, I think, be all words coming from a
bishop to his clergy; and they are of special importance when containing a
reproof, whether deserved or undeserved. The scurrilous and vulgar attack
made upon me in the newspaper which your lordship has sent to me would not
have been worthy of my serious notice had it not been made worthy by your
lordship as being the ground on which such a letter was written to me as
that of your lordship's of the 12th instant. Now it has been invested
with so much solemnity by your lordship's notice of it that I feel myself
obliged to defend myself against it by public action.
"If I have given just cause of scandal to the diocese I will retire both
from my living and from my school. But before doing so I will endeavour
to prove that I have done neither. This I can only do by publishing in a
court of law all the circumstances in reference to my connection with Mr.
and Mrs. Peacocke. As regards myself, this, though necessary, will be
very painful. As regards them, I am inclined to think that the more the
truth is known, the more general and the more generous will be the
sympathy felt for their position.
"As the newspaper sent to me, no doubt by your lordship's orders, from the
palace, has been accompanied by no letter, it may be necessary that your
lordship should be troubled by a subp[oe]na, so as to prove that the
newspaper alluded to by your lordship is the one against which my
proceedings will be taken. It will be necessary, of course, that I should
show that the libel in question has been deemed important enough to bring
down upon me ecclesiastical rebuke of such a nature as to make my
remaining in the diocese unbearable,--unless it is shown that that rebuke
was undeserved."
There was consternation in the palace when this was received. So
stiffnecked a man, so obstinate, so unclerical,--so determined to make
much of little! The Bishop had felt himself bound to warn a clergyman
that, for the sake of the Church, he could not do altogether as other men
might. No doubt certain ladies had got around him,--especially Lady
Margaret Momson,--filling his ears with the horrors of the Doctor's
proceedings. The gentleman who had written the article about the Greek
and the Latin words had seen the truth of the thing at once,--so said Lady
Margaret. The Doctor had condoned the offence committed by the Peacockes
because the woman had been beautiful, and was repaying himself for his
mercy by basking in her loveliness. There was no saying that there was
not some truth in this? Mrs. Wortle herself entertained a feeling of the
same kind. It was palpable, on the face of it, to all except Dr. Wortle
himself,--and to Mrs. Peacocke. Mrs. Stantiloup, who had made her way
into the palace, was quite convincing on this point. Everybody knew, she
said, that the Doctor went across, and saw the lady all alone, every day.
Everybody did not know that. If everybody had been accurate, everybody
would have asserted that he did this thing every other day. But the
matter, as it was represented to the Bishop by the ladies, with the
assistance of one or two clergymen in the Close, certainly seemed to
justify his lordship's interference.
But this that was threatened was very terrible. There was a determination
about the Doctor which made it clear to the Bishop that he would be as bad
as he said. When he, the Bishop, had spoken of scandal, of course he had
not intended to say that the Doctor's conduct was scandalous; nor had he
said anything of the kind. He had used the word in its proper sense,--and
had declared that offence would be created in the minds of people unless
an injurious report were stopped. "It is not enough to be innocent," he
had said, "but men must know that we are so." He had declared in that his
belief in Dr. Wortle's innocence. But yet there might, no doubt, be an
action for libel against the newspaper. And when damages came to be
considered, much weight would be placed naturally on the attention which
the Bishop had paid to the article. The result of this was that the
Bishop invited the Doctor to come and spend a night with him in the
palace.
The Doctor went, reaching the palace only just before dinner. During
dinner and in the drawing-room Dr. Wortle made himself very pleasant. He
was a man who could always be soft and gentle in a drawing-room. To see
him talking with Mrs. Rolland and the Bishop's daughters, you would not
have thought that there was anything wrong with him. The discussion with
the Bishop came after that, and lasted till midnight. "It will be for the
disadvantage of the diocese that this matter should be dragged into
Court,--and for the disadvantage of the Church in general that a clergyman
should seem to seek such redress against his bishop." So said the Bishop.
But the Doctor was obdurate. "I seek no redress," he said, "against my
bishop. I seek redress against a newspaper which has calumniated me. It
is your good opinion, my lord,--your good opinion or your ill opinion
which is the breath of my nostrils. I have to refer to you in order that
I may show that this paper, which I should otherwise have despised, has
been strong enough to influence that opinion."