Middlemarch - Page 127/561

As he threw down his book, stretched his legs towards the embers in the

grate, and clasped his hands at the back of his head, in that agreeable

afterglow of excitement when thought lapses from examination of a

specific object into a suffusive sense of its connections with all the

rest of our existence--seems, as it were, to throw itself on its back

after vigorous swimming and float with the repose of unexhausted

strength--Lydgate felt a triumphant delight in his studies, and

something like pity for those less lucky men who were not of his

profession.

"If I had not taken that turn when I was a lad," he thought, "I might

have got into some stupid draught-horse work or other, and lived always

in blinkers. I should never have been happy in any profession that did

not call forth the highest intellectual strain, and yet keep me in good

warm contact with my neighbors. There is nothing like the medical

profession for that: one can have the exclusive scientific life that

touches the distance and befriend the old fogies in the parish too. It

is rather harder for a clergyman: Farebrother seems to be an anomaly."

This last thought brought back the Vincys and all the pictures of the

evening. They floated in his mind agreeably enough, and as he took up

his bed-candle his lips were curled with that incipient smile which is

apt to accompany agreeable recollections. He was an ardent fellow, but

at present his ardor was absorbed in love of his work and in the

ambition of making his life recognized as a factor in the better life

of mankind--like other heroes of science who had nothing but an obscure

country practice to begin with.

Poor Lydgate! or shall I say, Poor Rosamond! Each lived in a world of

which the other knew nothing. It had not occurred to Lydgate that he

had been a subject of eager meditation to Rosamond, who had neither any

reason for throwing her marriage into distant perspective, nor any

pathological studies to divert her mind from that ruminating habit,

that inward repetition of looks, words, and phrases, which makes a

large part in the lives of most girls. He had not meant to look at her

or speak to her with more than the inevitable amount of admiration and

compliment which a man must give to a beautiful girl; indeed, it seemed

to him that his enjoyment of her music had remained almost silent, for

he feared falling into the rudeness of telling her his great surprise

at her possession of such accomplishment. But Rosamond had registered

every look and word, and estimated them as the opening incidents of a

preconceived romance--incidents which gather value from the foreseen

development and climax. In Rosamond's romance it was not necessary to

imagine much about the inward life of the hero, or of his serious

business in the world: of course, he had a profession and was clever,

as well as sufficiently handsome; but the piquant fact about Lydgate

was his good birth, which distinguished him from all Middlemarch

admirers, and presented marriage as a prospect of rising in rank and

getting a little nearer to that celestial condition on earth in which

she would have nothing to do with vulgar people, and perhaps at last

associate with relatives quite equal to the county people who looked

down on the Middlemarchers. It was part of Rosamond's cleverness to

discern very subtly the faintest aroma of rank, and once when she had

seen the Miss Brookes accompanying their uncle at the county assizes,

and seated among the aristocracy, she had envied them, notwithstanding

their plain dress.