Shirley

him: besides he took a secret pleasure in hearing her defend her tenant, for we have already intimated he had Robert Moore's interest very much at heart: moreover, if he wished to avenge himself for her severity, he knew the means lay in his power: a word, he believed, would suffice to tame and silence her, to cover her frank forehead with the rosy shadow of shame, and veil the glow of her eye under down-drooped lid and lash.
    »What more hast thou to say?« he inquired, as she paused, rather it appeared to take breath, than because her subject or her zeal was exhausted.
    »Say, Mr. Yorke?« was the answer, the speaker meantime walking fast from wall to wall of the oak-parlour. »Say? I have a great deal to say, if I could get it out in lucid order, which I never
can
do. I have to say that your views, and those of most extreme politicians are such as none but men in an irresponsible position
can
advocate; that they are purely opposition views, meant only to be talked about, and never intended to be acted on. Make you prime minister of England to-morrow, and you would have to abandon them. You abuse Moore for defending his mill: had you been in Moore's place you could not with honour or sense have acted otherwise than he acted. You abuse Mr. Helstone for everything he does: Mr. Helstone has his faults: he sometimes does wrong, but oftener right. Were you ordained vicar of Briarfield, you would find it no easy task to sustain all the active schemes for the benefit of the parish planned and persevered in by your predecessor. I wonder people cannot judge more fairly of each other and themselves. When I hear Messrs Malone and Donne chatter about the authority of the Church, the dignity and claims of the priesthood, the deference due to them as clergymen; when I hear the outbreaks of their small spite against Dissenters; when I witness their silly narrow jealousies and assumptions; when their palaver about forms, and traditions, and superstitions, is sounding in my ear; when I behold their insolent carriage to the poor, their often base servility to the rich, I think the Establishment is indeed in a poor way, and both she and her sons appear in the utmost need of reformation. Turning away distressed from minster-tower and village-spire – ay, as distressed as a churchwarden who feels the exigence of whitewash, and has not wherewithal to purchase lime – I recall your senseless sarcasms on the ›fat bishops‹ the ›pampered parsons,‹ ›old mother church,‹ etc. I remember your strictures on all who differ from you, your sweeping condemnation of classes and individuals, without the slightest allowance made for circumstances or temptations; and then, Mr. Yorke, doubt clutches my inmost heart as to whether men exist clement, reasonable, and just enough to be intrusted with the task of reform. I don't believe
you
are of the number.«
    »You have an ill opinion of me, Miss Shirley: you never told me so much of your mind before.«
    »I never had an opening; but I have sat on Jessy's stool by your chair in the back-parlour at Briarmains, for evenings together, listening excitedly to your talk, half-admiring what you said, and half-rebelling against it. I think you a fine old Yorkshireman, sir: I am proud to have been born in the same county and parish as yourself – truthful, upright, independent you are, as a rock based below seas; but also you are harsh, rude, narrow, and merciless.«
    »Not to the poor, lass – nor to the meek of the earth – only to the proud and high-minded.«
    »And what right have you, sir, to make such distinctions? A prouder – a higher-minded man than yourself does not exist. You find it easy to speak comfortably to your inferiors – you are too haughty, too ambitious, too jealous to be civil to those above you. But you are all alike. Helstone also is proud and prejudiced. Moore, though juster and more considerate than either you or the Rector, is still haughty, stern, and, in a public sense, selfish. It is well there are such men as Mr. Hall to be found occasionally: men of large and kind hearts, who can love their whole race, who can forgive others for being richer, more prosperous, or more powerful than they are. Such men may have less originality, less force of character than you, but they are better friends to mankind.«
    »And when is it to be?« said Mr. Yorke, now rising.
    »When is what to be?«
    »The wedding.«
    »Whose wedding?«
    »Only that of Robert Gérard Moore, Esq, of