“I want to do something for my fellows in the few years of my life,” said the other, at last.
“You’ll find they’re much better left alone, and your reward will probably be the most virulent abuse. The human race loves a martyr; it will crucify a man with the greatest zest in order to have another God to worship as soon as the breath is out of his body.”
“I’m willing to take the risk,” smiled Railing.
“Then in Heaven’s name don’t hamper yourself by marriage. If you marry out of your own station you’ll be nobbled. My boy, before you’d been Winnie’s husband twelve months they’d have set you up as a Tory Member of Parliament. On the other hand, if you marry a pauper, you’ll have to think of all sorts of shifts to earn bread. You’ll have to hold your tongue when you ought to speak, because you daren’t risk your means of livelihood.”
“I loved Winnie with all my heart and soul.”
“I daresay, but you’ll get over it. One thinks one’s heart is broken and the world is suddenly hollow and empty, but a disappointment in love is like an attack of the gout. It’s the very devil while it lasts, but one feels all the better for it afterwards. My dear fellow, I was jilted once. I loved a lady in the Gaiety chorus, and I loved her dearly. But I promise you, not a day passes without my huggin’ myself to think I’m still a bachelor.”
He gave Bertram his hand, asked him to call soon at his chambers, and jumped into a cab. He was sorry that these efforts at consolation had not been successful, but presently he shrugged his shoulders.
“He’ll write a series of articles for a Radical paper on the wickedness of the aristocracy, and that’ll soothe him a good sight better than I could.”
XIX
CANON SPRATTE was a man of buoyant temper, and did not grieve long over his frustrated hopes. After all there were richer Sees than Barchester. With youth and strength still on his side he need not resign himself yet to insignificance. Importance lay in the position which a man had the ability to make for himself, and the Vicar of St. Gregory’s might wield greater power than the bishop of an obscure diocese in the Western provinces. Reconsidering his opinions, he came to the conclusion that Barchester was a dull place, unhealthy, moribund, and tedious. He had always disliked a clay soil. And very soon he sincerely made up his mind that even if it had been offered to him, he would have refused. Like Wilhelm Meister he cried that America was here and now; London offered the only opportunity for such a vigorous character as his. And what were earthly honours to a person of quality?