The Complete Chronicles of Barsetshire: (The Warden + Barchester Towers + Doctor Thorne + Framley Parsonage + The Small House at Allington + The Last Chronicle of Barset). Anthony Trollope
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bishop and diocesan duties, shook Mr. Harding’s hand ruthlessly and begged him to be seated.
Now the air of superiority which this man assumed did go against the grain with Mr. Harding, and yet he did not know how to resent it. The whole tendency of his mind and disposition was opposed to any contra-assumption of grandeur on his own part, and he hadn’t the worldly spirit or quickness necessary to put down insolent pretensions by downright and open rebuke, as the archdeacon would have done. There was nothing for Mr. Harding but to submit, and he accordingly did so.
“About the hospital, Mr. Harding?” began Mr. Slope, speaking of it as the head of a college at Cambridge might speak of some sizarship which had to be disposed of.
Mr. Harding crossed one leg over another, and then one hand over the other on the top of them, and looked Mr. Slope in the face; but he said nothing.
“It’s to be filled up again,” said Mr. Slope. Mr. Harding said that he had understood so.
“Of course, you know, the income will be very much reduced,” continued Mr. Slope. “The bishop wished to be liberal, and he therefore told the government that he thought it ought to be put at not less than £450. I think on the whole the bishop was right, for though the services required will not be of a very onerous nature, they will be more so than they were before. And it is, perhaps, well that the clergy immediately attached to the cathedral town should be made as comfortable as the extent of the ecclesiastical means at our disposal will allow. Those are the bishop’s ideas, and I must say mine also.”
Mr. Harding sat rubbing one hand on the other but said not a word.
“So much for the income, Mr. Harding. The house will, of course, remain to the warden, as before. It should, however, I think, be stipulated that he should paint inside every seven years, and outside every three years, and be subject to dilapidations, in the event of vacating, either by death or otherwise. But this is a matter on which the bishop must yet be consulted.”
Mr. Harding still rubbed his hands and still sat silent, gazing up into Mr. Slope’s unprepossessing face.
“Then, as to the duties,” continued he, “I believe, if I am rightly informed, there can hardly be said to have been any duties hitherto,” and he gave a sort of half-laugh, as though to pass off the accusation in the guise of a pleasantry.
Mr. Harding thought of the happy, easy years he had passed in his old home; of the worn-out, aged men whom he had succoured; of his good intentions; and of his work, which had certainly been of the lightest. He thought of these things, doubting for a moment whether he did or did not deserve the sarcasm. He gave his enemy the benefit of the doubt and did not rebuke him. He merely observed, very tranquilly and perhaps with too much humility, that the duties of the situation, such as they were, had, he believed, been done to the satisfaction of the late bishop.
Mr. Slope again smiled, and this time the smile was intended to operate against the memory of the late bishop rather than against the energy of the ex-warden; so it was understood by Mr. Harding. The colour rose to his cheeks, and he began to feel very angry.
“You must be aware, Mr. Harding, that things are a good deal changed in Barchester,” said Mr. Slope.
Mr. Harding said that he was aware of it. “And not only in Barchester, Mr. Harding, but in the world at large. It is not only in Barchester that a new man is carrying out new measures and casting away the useless rubbish of past centuries. The same thing is going on throughout the country. Work is now required from every man who receives wages, and they who have to superintend the doing of work, and the paying of wages, are bound to see that this rule is carried out. New men, Mr. Harding, are now needed and are now forthcoming in the church, as well as in other professions.”
All this was wormwood to our old friend. He had never rated very high his own abilities or activity, but all the feelings of his heart were with the old clergy, and any antipathies of which his heart was susceptible were directed against those new, busy, uncharitable, self-lauding men, of whom Mr. Slope was so good an example.
“Perhaps,” said he, “the bishop will prefer a new man at the hospital?”
“By no means,” said Mr. Slope. “The bishop is very anxious that you should accept the appointment, but he wishes you should understand beforehand what will be the required duties. In the first place, a Sabbath-day school will be attached to the hospital.”
“What! For the old men?” asked Mr. Harding.
“No, Mr. Harding, not for the old men, but for the benefit of the children of such of the poor of Barchester as it may suit. The bishop will expect that you shall attend this school and that the teachers shall be under your inspection and care.”
Mr. Harding slipped his topmost hand off the other and began to rub the calf of the leg which was supported.
“As to the old men,” continued Mr. Slope, “and the old women who are to form a part of the hospital, the bishop is desirous that you shall have morning and evening service on the premises every Sabbath, and one weekday service; that you shall preach to them once at least on Sundays; and that the whole hospital be always collected for morning and evening prayer. The bishop thinks that this will render it unnecessary that any separate seats in the cathedral should be reserved for the hospital inmates.”
Mr. Slope paused, but Mr. Harding still said nothing.
“Indeed, it would be difficult to find seats for the women; on the whole, Mr. Harding, I may as well say at once that for people of that class the cathedral service does not appear to me the most useful — even if it be so for any class of people.”
“We will not discuss that, if you please,” said Mr. Harding.
“I am not desirous of doing so; at least, not at the present moment. I hope, however, you fully understand the bishop’s wishes about the new establishment of the hospital; and if, as I do not doubt, I shall receive from you an assurance that you accord with his lordship’s views, it will give me very great pleasure to be the bearer from his lordship to you of the presentation to the appointment.”
“But if I disagree with his lordship’s views?” asked Mr. Harding.
“But I hope you do not,” said Mr. Slope.
“But if I do?” again asked the other.
“If such unfortunately should be the case, which I can hardly conceive, I presume your own feelings will dictate to you the propriety of declining the appointment.”
“But if I accept the appointment and yet disagree with the bishop, what then?”
This question rather bothered Mr. Slope. It was true that he had talked the matter over with the bishop and had received a sort of authority for suggesting to Mr. Harding the propriety of a Sunday school and certain hospital services, but he had no authority for saying that these propositions were to be made peremptory conditions attached to the appointment. The bishop’s idea had been that Mr. Harding would of course consent and that the school would become, like the rest of those new establishments in the city, under the control of his wife and his chaplain. Mr. Slope’s idea had been more correct. He intended that Mr. Harding should refuse the situation and that an ally of his own should get it, but he had not conceived the possibility of Mr. Harding openly accepting the appointment and as openly rejecting the conditions.
“It is not, I presume, probable,” said he, “that you will accept from the hands of the bishop a piece of preferment with a fixed predetermination to disacknowledge the duties attached to it”
“If I become warden,” said Mr. Harding, “and neglect my duty, the bishop has means by which he can remedy the grievance.”
“I hardly expected such an argument from you, or I may say the suggestion of such a line of conduct,” said Mr. Slope with a great look of injured virtue.
“Nor did I expect such a proposition.”
“I shall be glad at any rate to know what answer I am to make to his lordship,” said Mr. Slope.
“I