The Last Chronicle of Barset [338]
tell the Bishop of Barchester, that I shall at once resign the perpetual curacy of Hogglestock into the hands of the Dean of Barchester, by whom I was appointed.'
'No, Mr Crawley; I shall not do that. I cannot control you, but thinking you to be wrong, I shall not make that communication to the bishop.'
'Then I shall do it myself.'
'And your wife, Mr Crawley, and your children?'
At that moment Mr Crawley called to mind the advice of his friend Giles Hoggett. 'It'd dogged as does it.' He certainly wanted something very strong to sustain him in this difficulty. He found that this reference to his wife and children required him to be dogged in a very marked manner. 'I can only trust that the wind may be tempered to them,' he said. 'They will, indeed, be shorn lambs.'
Dr Tempest got up from his chair, and took a couple of turns about the room before he spoke again. 'Man,' he said, addressing Mr Crawley with all his energy, 'if you do this thing, you will then at least be very wicked. If the jury find a verdict in your favour you are safe, and the chances are that the verdict will be in your favour.'
'I care nothing now for the verdict,' said Mr Crawley.
'And you will turn your wife into the poorhouse for an idea!'
'It's dogged as does it,' said Mr Crawley to himself. 'I have thought of that,' he said aloud. 'That my wife is dear to me, and that my children are dear, I will not deny. She was softly nurtured, Dr Tempest, and came from a house in which want was never known. Since she has shared my board she has had some experience of that nature. That I should have brought her to all this is very terrible to me--so terrible, that I often wonder how it is that I live. But, sir, you will agree with me, that my duty as a clergyman is above everything. I do not dare, even for their sake, to remain in the parish. Good morning, Dr Tempest.' Dr Tempest, finding that he could not prevail with him, bade him adieu, feeling that any service to the Crawleys within in his power might be best done by intercession with the bishop and with the dean.
Then Mr Crawley walked back to Hogglestock, repeating to himself Giles Hoggett's words, 'It's dogged as does it.'
CHAPTER LXII
MR CRAWLEY'S LETTER TO THE DEAN
Mr Crawley, when he got home after his walk to Silverbridge, denied that he was at all tired. 'The man at Silverbridge, whom I went to see administered refreshment to me;--nay, he administered it with salutary violence,' he said, affecting even to laugh. 'And I am bound to speak well of him on behalf of mercies over and beyond that exhibited by the persistent tender of some wine. That I should find him judicious I had expected. What little I have known of him taught me so to think of him. But I found with him also a softness of heart for which I had not looked.'
'And you will not give up the living, Josiah?'
'Most certainly I will. A duty, when it is clear before a man, should never be made less so by any tenderness in others.' He was still thinking of Giles Hoggett. 'It's dogged as does it.' The poor woman could not answer him. She knew well that it was vain to argue with him. She could only hope that in the event of his being acquitted at the trial, the dean, whose friendship she did not doubt, might re-endow him with the small benefice which was their only source of bread.
On the following morning there came by post a short note from Dr Tempest. 'My dear Mr Crawley,' the note ran, 'I implore you, if there be yet time, to do nothing rashly. And even though you should have written to the bishop or to the dean, your letters need have no effect, if you will allow me to make them inoperative. Permit me to say that I am a man much older than you, and one who has mixed much both with clergymen and with the world at large. I tell you with absolute confidence, that it is not your duty in your present position to give up your living. Should your conduct ever be called in question on this matter you will be at perfect liberty to say that you were guided by my advice. You should take no step till after
'No, Mr Crawley; I shall not do that. I cannot control you, but thinking you to be wrong, I shall not make that communication to the bishop.'
'Then I shall do it myself.'
'And your wife, Mr Crawley, and your children?'
At that moment Mr Crawley called to mind the advice of his friend Giles Hoggett. 'It'd dogged as does it.' He certainly wanted something very strong to sustain him in this difficulty. He found that this reference to his wife and children required him to be dogged in a very marked manner. 'I can only trust that the wind may be tempered to them,' he said. 'They will, indeed, be shorn lambs.'
Dr Tempest got up from his chair, and took a couple of turns about the room before he spoke again. 'Man,' he said, addressing Mr Crawley with all his energy, 'if you do this thing, you will then at least be very wicked. If the jury find a verdict in your favour you are safe, and the chances are that the verdict will be in your favour.'
'I care nothing now for the verdict,' said Mr Crawley.
'And you will turn your wife into the poorhouse for an idea!'
'It's dogged as does it,' said Mr Crawley to himself. 'I have thought of that,' he said aloud. 'That my wife is dear to me, and that my children are dear, I will not deny. She was softly nurtured, Dr Tempest, and came from a house in which want was never known. Since she has shared my board she has had some experience of that nature. That I should have brought her to all this is very terrible to me--so terrible, that I often wonder how it is that I live. But, sir, you will agree with me, that my duty as a clergyman is above everything. I do not dare, even for their sake, to remain in the parish. Good morning, Dr Tempest.' Dr Tempest, finding that he could not prevail with him, bade him adieu, feeling that any service to the Crawleys within in his power might be best done by intercession with the bishop and with the dean.
Then Mr Crawley walked back to Hogglestock, repeating to himself Giles Hoggett's words, 'It's dogged as does it.'
CHAPTER LXII
MR CRAWLEY'S LETTER TO THE DEAN
Mr Crawley, when he got home after his walk to Silverbridge, denied that he was at all tired. 'The man at Silverbridge, whom I went to see administered refreshment to me;--nay, he administered it with salutary violence,' he said, affecting even to laugh. 'And I am bound to speak well of him on behalf of mercies over and beyond that exhibited by the persistent tender of some wine. That I should find him judicious I had expected. What little I have known of him taught me so to think of him. But I found with him also a softness of heart for which I had not looked.'
'And you will not give up the living, Josiah?'
'Most certainly I will. A duty, when it is clear before a man, should never be made less so by any tenderness in others.' He was still thinking of Giles Hoggett. 'It's dogged as does it.' The poor woman could not answer him. She knew well that it was vain to argue with him. She could only hope that in the event of his being acquitted at the trial, the dean, whose friendship she did not doubt, might re-endow him with the small benefice which was their only source of bread.
On the following morning there came by post a short note from Dr Tempest. 'My dear Mr Crawley,' the note ran, 'I implore you, if there be yet time, to do nothing rashly. And even though you should have written to the bishop or to the dean, your letters need have no effect, if you will allow me to make them inoperative. Permit me to say that I am a man much older than you, and one who has mixed much both with clergymen and with the world at large. I tell you with absolute confidence, that it is not your duty in your present position to give up your living. Should your conduct ever be called in question on this matter you will be at perfect liberty to say that you were guided by my advice. You should take no step till after