Middlemarch

Fred’s Internal Debate

Fred reflects on his uncle Featherstone’s intentions, recognizing that the old man delights in tormenting him and taking satisfaction from unpleasantness with Bulstrode. The narrator observes that Fred believes he sees the bottom of Featherstone’s soul, though half of what he perceives is merely the reflection of his own inclinations—a pointed reminder that knowing another person is difficult for those whose consciousness is chiefly composed of their own wishes. Fred’s central internal debate is whether to tell his father about the affair or conceal it. He suspects Mrs. Waule has been speaking about him and fears that Mary Garth may have repeated her report to Rosamond, which would inevitably reach his father and prompt questioning.

Conversation with Rosamond

Fred questions Rosamond about what Mary Garth said regarding Mrs. Waule’s gossip, learning that Mary described him as “very unsteady.” Their exchange becomes pointed: Rosamond lectures him, but Fred presses for Mary’s exact words, insisting he cares what Mary thinks because she is the best girl he knows. Rosamond goads him by suggesting Mary is not the sort of girl one falls in love with, and reveals that Mary said she would not marry him if he asked her. Fred bristles, insisting she would not have said so without provocation, and accuses Rosamond of nettling him deliberately. Before reaching home, Fred resolves to tell his father the whole affair as simply as possible, hoping his father might take on the unpleasant task of speaking to Bulstrode.

LIVRE II.

Chapter 14 of the work titled “BOOK II.” contains one section.

OLD AND YOUNG

This section explores themes related to generational perspectives, examining the contrasts and interactions between older and younger characters or viewpoints.

CHAPITRE XIII.

Chapter XIII of Middlemarch opens with an epigrammatic exchange between two gentlemen about the futility of classifying men and books, then moves into a long, layered scene at Bulstrode’s bank, where Lydgate is consulted on the new fever hospital, the old infirmary’s chaplaincy, and the general reform of provincial medicine, before the banker is left alone with his brother-in-law Vincy. What begins as a professional conversation between Lydgate and Bulstrode deepens into an ideological clash, as Vincy comes to ask Bulstrode for a written denial of rumors that Fred has been borrowing money against Featherstone’s expected bequest, and the two men fall into an increasingly bitter argument about worldliness, religious duty, family feeling, and the true grounds of moral and commercial action.

Classifying Men and Books

The chapter is prefaced with a brief dialogue in which two gentlemen mock the human habit of classification. The first asks how one is to rank a man—as saint or knave, pilgrim or hypocrite—while the second replies that sorting men is no easier than sorting books, where bindings of vellum and common calf disguise far less diversity than the clever labels men devise for the unread authors on their shelves.

Vincy Plans Bank Meeting with Bulstrode

Acting on what he has heard from his son Fred, Mr. Vincy decides to call on Mr. Bulstrode at the bank at half-past one, when the banker is usually free. He finds, however, that another visitor—Lydgate—is already with Bulstrode, and that the interview is unlikely to end within half an hour, since Bulstrode speaks fluently, copiously, and with meditative pauses.

Bulstrode’s Demeanor and Public Reputation

While waiting, the narrative lingers on Bulstrode’s physical appearance and manner: he is pale, blond, gray-eyed, and broad-browed, with a subdued undertone of voice and a deferential, intently attentive way of listening. Loud men find this opacity suspicious, while others resent the “moral lantern” he turns on them; in Middlemarch he is variously labeled a Pharisee or an Evangelical, and longer-standing residents want to know who his forebears were, since only some twenty-five years earlier no Bulstrode was known in the town. Lydgate, by contrast, is immune to this scrutiny and merely concludes that the banker has an eager inner life at the expense of any pleasure in tangible things.