Middlemarch

(Ron) #1
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‘Not at all. He is practising at a German bath, and has
married a rich patient.’
Then my notions wear the best, so far,’ said Lydgate, with
a short scornful laugh. ‘He would have it, the medical pro-
fession was an inevitable system of humbug. I said, the fault
was in the men— men who truckle to lies and folly. Instead
of preaching against humbug outside the walls, it might be
better to set up a disinfecting apparatus within. In short—I
am reporting my own conversation— you may be sure I had
all the good sense on my side.’
‘Your scheme is a good deal more difficult to carry out
than the Pythagorean community, though. You have not
only got the old Adam in yourself against you, but you have
got all those descendants of the original Adam who form
the society around you. You see, I have paid twelve or thir-
teen years more than you for my knowledge of difficulties.
But’—Mr. Farebrother broke off a moment, and then added,
‘you are eying that glass vase again. Do you want to make an
exchange? You shall not have it without a fair barter.’
‘I have some sea-mice—fine specimens—in spirits. And I
will throw in Robert Brown’s new thing—‘Microscopic Ob-
servations on the Pollen of Plants’—if you don’t happen to
have it already.’
‘Why, seeing how you long for the monster, I might ask a
higher price. Suppose I ask you to look through my draw-
ers and agree with me about all my new species?’ The Vicar,
while he talked in this way, alternately moved about with
his pipe in his mouth, and returned to hang rather fondly
over his drawers. ‘That would be good discipline, you know,

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