Middlemarch - Page 264/561

"'Tis strange to see the humors of these men,

These great aspiring spirits, that should be wise:

. . . . . . . .

For being the nature of great spirits to love

To be where they may be most eminent;

They, rating of themselves so farre above

Us in conceit, with whom they do frequent,

Imagine how we wonder and esteeme

All that they do or say; which makes them strive

To make our admiration more extreme,

Which they suppose they cannot, 'less they give

Notice of their extreme and highest thoughts.

--DANIEL: Tragedy of Philotas.

Mr. Vincy went home from the reading of the will with his point of view

considerably changed in relation to many subjects. He was an

open-minded man, but given to indirect modes of expressing himself:

when he was disappointed in a market for his silk braids, he swore at

the groom; when his brother-in-law Bulstrode had vexed him, he made

cutting remarks on Methodism; and it was now apparent that he regarded

Fred's idleness with a sudden increase of severity, by his throwing an

embroidered cap out of the smoking-room on to the hall-floor.

"Well, sir," he observed, when that young gentleman was moving off to

bed, "I hope you've made up your mind now to go up next term and pass

your examination. I've taken my resolution, so I advise you to lose no

time in taking yours."

Fred made no answer: he was too utterly depressed. Twenty-four hours

ago he had thought that instead of needing to know what he should do,

he should by this time know that he needed to do nothing: that he

should hunt in pink, have a first-rate hunter, ride to cover on a fine

hack, and be generally respected for doing so; moreover, that he should

be able at once to pay Mr. Garth, and that Mary could no longer have

any reason for not marrying him. And all this was to have come without

study or other inconvenience, purely by the favor of providence in the

shape of an old gentleman's caprice. But now, at the end of the

twenty-four hours, all those firm expectations were upset. It was

"rather hard lines" that while he was smarting under this

disappointment he should be treated as if he could have helped it. But

he went away silently and his mother pleaded for him.

"Don't be hard on the poor boy, Vincy. He'll turn out well yet, though

that wicked man has deceived him. I feel as sure as I sit here, Fred

will turn out well--else why was he brought back from the brink of the

grave? And I call it a robbery: it was like giving him the land, to

promise it; and what is promising, if making everybody believe is not

promising? And you see he did leave him ten thousand pounds, and then

took it away again."