THE DEAN AND CHAPTER TAKE COUNSEL
All Barchester was in a tumult. Dr Grantly could hardly get himself
out of the cathedral porch before he exploded in his wrath. The old
dean betook himself silently to his deanery, afraid to speak; and
there sat, half stupefied, pondering many things in vain. Mr
Harding crept forth solitary and unhappy; and, slowly passing
beneath the elms of the close, could scarcely bring himself to
believe that the words which he had heard had proceeded from the
pulpit of the Barchester Cathedral. Was he again to be disturbed?
Was his whole life to be shown up as a useless sham a second time?
would he have to abdicate his precentorship, as he had his
wardenship, and to give up chanting, as he had given up his twelve
old bedesmen? And what if he did! Some other Jupiter, some other Mr
Slope, would come and turn him out of St Cuthbert's. Surely he
could not have been wrong all his life in chanting the litany as he
had done! He began, however, to have doubts. Doubting himself was
Mr Harding's weakness. It is not, however, the usual fault of his
order.
Yes! All Barchester was in a tumult. It was not only the clergy who
were affected. The laity also had listened to Mr Slope's new
doctrine, all with surprise, some with indignation, and some with a
mixed feeling, in which dislike of the preacher was not so strongly
blended. The old bishop and his chaplain, the dean and his canons
and minor canons, the old choir, and especially Mr Harding who was
at the head of it, had all been popular in Barchester. They had
spent their money and done good; the poor had not been ground down;
the clergy in society had neither been overbearing nor austere; and
the whole repute of the city was due to its ecclesiastical
importance. Yet there were those who had heard Mr Slope with
satisfaction.
It is so pleasant to receive a fillip of excitement when suffering
from the dull routine of everyday life! The anthems and Te Deums
were in themselves delightful, but they had been heard so often! Mr
Slope was certainly not delightful, but he was new, and, moreover,
clever. They had long thought it slow, so said now may of the
Barchesterians, to go on as they had done in their old humdrum way,
giving ear to none of the religious changes which were moving the
world without. People in advance of the age now had new ideas, and
it was quite time that Barchester should go in advance. Mr Slope
might be right. Sunday certainly had to been strictly kept in
Barchester, except as regarded the cathedral services. Indeed the
two hours between services had long been appropriated to morning
calls and hot luncheons. Then Sunday schools; Sabbath-day schools
Mr Slope had called them. The late bishop had really not thought of
Sunday schools as he should have done. (These people probably did
not reflect that catechisms and collects are quite hard work to the
young mind as book-keeping is to the elderly; and that quite as
little feeling of worship enters into one task as the other.) And
then, as regarded that great question of musical services, there
might be much to be said on Mr Slope's side of the question. It
certainly was the fact, that people went to the cathedral to hear
the music &c &c.
And so a party absolutely formed itself in Barchester on Mr Slope's
side of the question! This consisted, among the upper classes,
chiefly of ladies. No man--that is, no gentleman--could possibly be
attracted by Mr Slope, or consent to sit at the feet of so
abhorrent a Gamaliel. Ladies are sometimes less nice in their
appreciation of physical disqualification; and, provided that a man
speak to them well, they will listen, though he speak from a mouth
never so deformed and hideous. Wilkes was most fortunate as a
lover; and the damp, sandy-haired, saucer-eyed, red-fisted Mr Slope
was powerful only over the female breast.
There were, however, one or two of the neighbouring clergy who
thought it not quite safe to neglect the baskets in which for the
nonce were stored the loaves and fishes of the diocese of
Barchester. They, and they only, came to call on Mr Slope after his
performance in the cathedral pulpit. Among them Mr Quiverful, the
rector of Puddingdale, whose wife still continued to present him
from year to year with fresh pledges of her love, and so to
increase his cares and, it is to be hoped, his happiness equally.
Who can wonder that a gentleman, with fourteen living children and
a bare income of L 400 a year, should look after the loaves and
fishes, ever when they are under the thumb of Mr Slope?
Very soon after the Sunday on which the sermon was preached, the
leading clergy of the neighbourhood held high debate together as to
how Mr Slope should be put down. In the first place he should never
again preach from the pulpit of Barchester cathedral. This was Dr
Grantly's earliest dictum; and they all agreed, providing only that
they had the power to exclude him. Dr Grantly declared that the
power rested with the dean and chapter, observing that no clergyman
out of the chapter had a claim to preach there, saving only the
bishop himself. To this the dean assented, but alleged that
contests on such a subject would be unseemly; to which rejoined a
meagre little doctor, one of the cathedral prebendaries, that the
contest must be all on the side of Mr Slope if every prebendary
were always there ready to take his own place in the pulpit.
Cunning little meagre doctor, whom it suits well to live in his own
cosy house within Barchester close, and who is well content to have
his little fling at Dr Vesey Stanhope and other absentees, whose
Italian villas, or enticing London homes, are more tempting than
cathedral stalls and residences!
To this answered the burly chancellor, a man rather silent indeed,
but very sensible, that absent prebendaries had their vicars, and
that in such case the vicar's right to the pulpit was the same as
that of the higher order. To which the dean assented, groaning
deeply at these truths. Thereupon, however, the meagre doctor
remarked that they would be in the hands of their minor canons, one
of whom might at any hour betray his trust. Whereon was heard from
the burly chancellor an ejaculation sounding somewhat like 'Pooh,
pooh, pooh!' but it might have been that the worthy man was but
blowing out the heavy breath from his windpipe. Why silence him at
all, suggested Mr Harding. Let them not be ashamed to hear what any
man might have to preach to them, unless he preached false
doctrine; in which case, let the bishop silence him. So spoke our
friend; vainly; for human ends must be attained by human means. But
the dean saw a ray of hope out of those purblind old eyes of his.
Yes, let them tell the bishop how distasteful to them was this Mr
Slope: new bishop just come to his seat could not wish to insult
his clergy while the gloss was yet fresh on his first apron.
Then up rose Dr Grantly; and, having thus collected the scattered
wisdom of his associates, spoke forth with words of deep authority.
When I say up rose the archdeacon, I speak of the inner man, which
then sprang up to more immediate action, for the doctor had,
bodily, been standing all along with his back to the dean's empty
fire-grate, and the tails of his frock coat supported over his two
arms. His hands were in his breeches pockets.
'It is quite clear that this man must not be allowed to preach
again in the cathedral. We all see that, except our dear friend
here, the milk of whose nature runs so softly, that he would not
have the heart to refuse the Pope, the loan of his pulpit, if the
Pope would come and ask it. We must not, however, allow the man to
preach again here. It is not because his opinion on church matters
may be different from ours--with that one would not quarrel. It is
because he has purposely insulted us. When he went up into that
pulpit last Sunday, his studied object was to give offence to men
who had grown old in reverence to those things of which he dared to
speak so slightingly. What! To come here a stranger, a young,
unknown, and unfriended stranger, and tell us, in the name of the
bishop, his master, that we are ignorant of our duties,
old-fashioned, and useless! I don't know whether to most admire his
courage or his impudence! And one thing I will tell you: that
sermon originated solely with the man himself. The bishop was no
more a party to it than was the dean here. You all know how grieved
I am to see a bishop in this diocese holding the latitudinarian
ideas by which Dr Proudie has made himself conspicuous. You all
know how greatly I should distrust the opinion of such a man. But
in this matter I hold him to be blameless. I believe Dr Proudie has
lived too long among gentlemen to be guilty, or to instigate
another to be guilty, of so gross an outrage. No! That man uttered
what was untrue when he hinted that he was speaking as the
mouthpiece of the bishop. It suited his ambitious views at once to
throw down the gauntlet to us--here within the walls of our own
loved cathedral--here where we have for so many years exercised our
ministry, without schism and with good repute. Such an attack upon
us, coming from such a quarter, is abominable.'
'Abominable,' groaned the dean. 'Abominable,' muttered the meagre
doctor. 'Abominable,' re-echoed the chancellor, uttering a sound
from the bottom of his deep chest. 'I really think it was,' said Mr
Harding.
'Most abominable, and most unjustifiable,' continued the
archdeacon. 'But, Mr Dean, thank God, that pulpit is still our own:
your own, I should say. That pulpit belongs to the dean and chapter
of Barchester Cathedral, and, as yet, Mr Slope is no part of that
chapter. You, Mr Dean, have suggested that we should appeal to the
bishop to abstain from forcing this man on us; but what if the
bishop allow himself to be ruled by his chaplain? In my opinion,
the matter is in our own hands. Mr Slope cannot preach there
without permission asked and obtained, and let that permission be
invariable refused. Let all participation in the ministry of the
cathedral service be refused to him. Then, if the bishop choose to
interfere, we shall know what answer to make to the bishop. My
friend here has suggested that this man may again find his way into
the pulpit by undertaking the duty of some of your minor canons;
but I am sure that we may fully trust to these gentlemen to support
us, when it is known that the dean objects to any such transfer.'
'Of course you may,' said the chancellor.
There was much more discussion among the learned conclave, all of
which, of course, ended in obedience to the archdeacon's commands.
They had too long been accustomed to his rule to shake it off so
soon; and in this particular case they had none of them a wish to
abet the man whom he was so anxious to put down.
Such a meeting as that we have just recorded is not held in such a
city as Barchester unknown and untold of. Not only was the fact of
the meeting talked of in every respectable house, including the
palace, but the very speeches of the dean, the archdeacon, and
chancellor were repeated; not without many additions and imaginary
circumstances, according to the tastes and opinions of the
relaters.
All, however, agreed in saying that Mr Slope was to be debarred
from opening his mouth in the cathedral of Barchester; many
believed that the vergers were to be ordered to refuse him even the
accommodation of a seat; and some of the most far-going advocates
for strong measures, declared that this sermon was looked upon as
an indictable offence, and that proceedings were to be taken
against him for brawling.
The party who were inclined to him--the enthusiastically religious
young ladies, and the middle-aged spinsters desirous of a move--of
course took up his defence the more warmly on account of this
attack. If they could not hear Mr Slope in the cathedral, they
would hear him elsewhere; they would leave the dull dean, the dull
old prebendaries, and the scarcely less dull young minor canons, to
preach to each other; they would work slippers and cushions, and
hem bands for Mr Slope, make him a happy martyr, and stick him up
in some new Sion (sic) or Bethesda, and put the cathedral quite out
of fashion.
Dr and Mrs Proudie at once returned to London. They thought it
expedient not to have to encounter any personal applications from
the dean and chapter respecting the sermon till the violence of the
storm had expended itself; but they left Mr Slope behind them
nothing daunted, and he went about his work zealously, flattering
such as would listen to his flattery, whispering religious twaddle
into the ears of foolish women, ingratiating himself with the very
few clergy who would receive him, visiting the houses of the poor,
inquiring into all people, prying into everything, and searching
with the minutest eye into all palatial dilapidation. He did not,
however, make any immediate attempt to preach again in the
cathedral.
And so all Barchester was by the ears.