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    The Warden
    The Warden
    The Warden
    Ebook279 pages5 hours

    The Warden

    By Anthony Trollope

    4/5

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    An 1855 tale of English ecclesiastical life, this work from the author's Barsetshire series relates the humor and pathos that ensue when a kindly clergyman becomes the subject of a scandalous tabloid treatment charging him with financial impropriety. Features a cast of amusingly realistic and memorable characters, naturalistic dialogue, and consummate plotting.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDover Publications
    Release dateJan 23, 2013
    ISBN9780486158334
    Author

    Anthony Trollope

    Anthony Trollope (1815-1882) was the third son of a barrister, who ruined his family by giving up the law for farming, and an industrious mother. After attending Winchester and Harrow, Trollope scraped into the General Post Office, London, in 1834, where he worked for seven years. In 1841 he was transferred to Ireland as a surveyor's clerk, and in 1844 married and settled at Clonmel. His first two novels were devoted to Irish life; his third, La Vendée, was historical. All were failures. After a distinguished career in the GPO, for which he invented the pillar box and travelled extensively abroad, Trollope resigned in 1867, earning his living from writing instead. He led an extensive social life, from which he drew material for his many social and political novels. The idea for The Warden (1855), the first of the six Barsetshire novels, came from a visit to Salisbury Close; with it came the characters whose fortunes were explored through the succeeding volumes, of which Doctor Thorne is the third.

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    Reviews for The Warden

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    • 4/5
      This short novel is the first of the author's six Barsetshire chronicles, set in the fictional county town and cathedral city of Barchester, a generic West country location. It's a simple tale of a legal dispute over the distribution of charitable funds under an ancient will, and the conflicts this causes in the family of warden Septimus Harding, especially with his married daughter Susan and son in law Archdeacon Grantly, and his unmarried daughter Eleanor and her suitor John Bold. Despite its seemingly trivial nature, this strikes a chord and was quite an enjoyable read, with the author's writing style fairly simple and direct, by 19th century standards. He satirises Dickens as Mr Popular Sentiment.
    • 4/5
      Reverend Septimus Harding, at fifty years old, became Precentor of the Cathedral as well as the Warden of Hiram's Hospital. Because of his dual employment he makes a significantly higher wage than others. This inequality of salary is a modern conflict and no one is more bothered by this than John Bold. But Mr. bold has a conflict of interest. While he is against Mr. Harding's significant salary and starts a petition to challenge it, he is also attracted and betrothed to Harding's twenty four year old daughter, Eleanor. When he realizes the heartache he has caused the Harding family he tries to retract his complaint..but of course it is too late. The wheels of justice have been set in motion. The lesson for John Bold is you made your bed, now you have to lie in it.The lesson for the Warden is one of morality. Eventually, the suit is abandoned but Harding is still wracked with guilt. He resigns despite everyone's urging to reconsider.
    • 4/5
      Book Circle Reads 155Rating: 3.5* of five The Book Description: The Warden centers on Mr. Harding, a clergyman of great personal integrity who is nevertheless in possession of an income from a charity far in excess of the sum devoted to the purposes of the foundation. On discovering this, young John Bold turns his reforming zeal to exposing what he regards as an abuse of privilege, despite the fact that he is in love with Mr. Harding's daughter Eleanor. It was a highly topical novel (a case regarding the misapplication of church funds was the scandalous subject of contemporary debate), but like other great Victorian novelists, Trollope uses the specific case to explore and illuminate the universal complexities of human motivation and social morality. My Review: First read in the 1980s, during the first Reagan Administration, I was struck at how little things had changed in the past 130 years. Mr. Bold's lawsuit and its unintended consequences, the fuss and kerfuffle over the uses of “public” (really now, could the specific bequest of a trust to support a charitable activity and administered by the church be considered public today?) funds in a manner the onlooker simply didn't like...think Chrysler bailout, but not International Harvester or US Steel...all of this resonated with me.Eleanor Harding was no one's fool, hooking up with that pill of the first water John Bold! And I have to say that the portrait of Dickens as Mr. Popular Sentiment made me chortle.But on re-reading the book in 2012...well...the magic eluded me. I think this was a book that needed the element of not knowing the ending to make the events fun. Since I knew already who was going to do what, I had no huge amount of interest in following the path laid out for me. It was still amusing. It wasn't ever gripping, but it was involving. Now, after 30 years, much of what took place had fled from my head until the words hit my eyes. But as they returned, it was as blocks and lumps and boulders, not flowing back into the river of my thoughts like cool springs and bright brooks.Good Victorian stodge. But once was enough.
    • 3/5
      A clergyman, Mr. Harding, is accused of abusing of his privilege of receiving a high income for very little work, and that church funds are being misappropriated; both accusations made by a young reformer who also happens to be in love with the clergyman's daughter, and influences those who are directly under the clergyman's protection and benefiting from his generosity. Mr. Harding is well-loved by all, and the combination of savage media outcry and his unimpeachable honesty pushes him to take actions which are against his best interests. Can't say I absolutely loved this novel, but in the context of the tutoring thread in which Liz and Genny both provided lots of useful information about the clergy and moral attitudes of the time and so on, certainly helped this modern reader appreciate the story a lot more than I would have without my mentors.
    • 5/5
      I absolutely loved this gem of a novel and am glad that it is the first of the well-known Barchester series by Trollope. How can you go wrong with a melodrama and a morality tale blend along with characters with names such as Dr. Pessimist Anticant, Mr. Popular Sentiment, and Mr. Quiverful? This is the story of a man beset by doubts as to the validity of his source of income. A meek, mild, honorable man, he takes one of his first strong stands about what he believes to be right, even though those who questioned him in the first place had backed down. Themes include: honor, loyalty, the nature of friendship, the absurdity of pundits, and the willingness of people to make judgements based in their own personal interests with limited information. Certainly sounds like issues which are still relevant today!
    • 4/5
      Absolutely delightful! Maybe because there is such a shortage of people with true moral character, but the eponymous warden, Septimus Harding, whose courage and sense of honor and fair play will not allow him to continue in his job, won my heart very early on in Trollope’s book that serves as an introductory volume to his well-known Chronicles of Barsetshire series.Harding serves as the warden in an almshouse for 12 elderly men who have no source of income. His employment, as well as the maintenance of the twelve residents, was spelled out in a charitable bequest. John Bold decides to initiate a campaign to rectify what he sees as an injustice in the way the funds are disbursed especially the inflated amount that Harding receives for, what appears to be, very little toil. To complicate matters, Bold and Harding’s younger daughter Eleanor, are romantically involved and he knows Harding to be a conscientious employee with whom he has a cordial relationship. Add in the fact that Harding’s son-in-law is the archdeacon whose intractable opinion on the case, as the lawsuit proceeds, creates an atmosphere that Harding can’t tolerate. As the case advances Trollope skewers The Jupiter, a newspaper modeled after The Times, which has taken up the case as just another example of the misuse of funds by the Church in general and Harding in particular. Mr. Popular Sentiment (Charles Dickens) and Dr Pessimist Anticant (Thomas Carlyle) also take up the case and are caricatured by Trollope.The writing is spectacular and I will certainly be continuing on with the series. But it’s the development of the Harding character that really stands out. It had me wondering how many brave, honest, upright people I know who would stand up for what is right the way Harding did. And the fact that I had a smile on my face throughout the book didn’t hurt either. ”The bishop did not whistle: we believe that they lose the power of doing so on being consecrated; and that in these days one might as easily meet a corrupt judge as a whistling bishop; but he looked as though he would have done so, but for his apron.”So…a quiet little book but a compelling look at a microcosm of British church life, from a time that is long gone. Witty and ironic, sweet and moving it couldn’t have been a better introduction to an author I will continue to explore. Highly recommended.
    • 5/5
      The first of Anthony Trollope's Barchester Chronicles, The Warden is a short but beautifully formed book. The story of Mr Septimus Harding, the precentor of Barchester Cathedral, and the warden of Hiram's Hospital, an almshouse in the cathedral city of Barchester. The twelve old men housed by the hospital receive an income of one shilling and four pence per day, whereas the increase in the value of the property in the centuries since the charity was founded leaves the warden with a substantial income of eight hundred pounds a year and the use of a handsome house. But as voices begin to be raised questioning whether this division of funds is in line with the original wishes of John Hiram, the very private Mr Harding must face the public scrutiny of his affairs. And to complicate matters the chief instigator of the enquiries is the man with whom Mr Harding's daughter Eleanor is in love.For me the strength of this book is in the memorable characters that Trollope creates: the honest and generous Mr Harding battling with his own concience; the gentle but ineffectual Bishop; and blowing through the book like a whirlwind there is the wonderful archdeacon Dr Grantley, who alternately organises and terrorises all around him.Trollope's language at times is just perfect. On discovering that Mr Harding's daughter is likely to become engaged to the chief reformer, John Bold:'The bishop did not whistle; we believe that they lose the power of doing so on being consecrated; and that in these days one might as easily meet a corrupt judge as a whistling bishop; but he looked as if he would have done so, but for his apron.'This would probably have rated five stars were it not for some of the satire being lost on the modern reader, although his portrait of the famous novelist Mr Popular Sentiment is still recognisable to anyone who has read any Dickens at all!I'll definitely going on to read the rest of the Barchester Chronicles.
    • 4/5
      This is the first in the classic Chronicles of Barsetshire series and features befuddled cleric Septimus Harding and a kafuffle over his income. Trollope set his story in his current day, in this case 1855. There is lots of social satire (including a veiled reference to Charles Dickens), biting humour, and pokes at church & state.I’ll admit this was humourous, but I’m not really into early Victorian times so began to find Trollope’s references boring. I’m glad I read this (my introduction to Trollope) but I’m not in a hurry to read more by him, even though it’s likely that if I did want Victorian literature, he would be near the top of my list.Read this if: you’re a fan of Victorian literature. 3½ stars
    • 3/5
      Trollope's vigourously recounted tale of a gentle and scrupulous man is a long time favourite. Contains one of teh best scenes ever, when the perplexed and unhappy Warden "plays" on his imaginary cello, too old to continue playing for real. A story of worliness versus spirutal values.
    • 2/5
      Sigh...I just don't get all the fuss over Trollope. I read this one, but not joyfully.
    • 4/5
      The first of the Barchester series, The Warden seems obviously designed to set up the next five novels. It's fine on its own, but not the best of Trollope by any means. Mr. Harding, warden of an almshouse for 12 elderly disabled men, finds himself the target of a lawsuit promoted by his daughter's admirer. The claim is that the benefactor's will did not mean for the church to use the bequest to fund a warden, but that it was meant to go directly to the 12 men. Complicating factors is the fact that the archdeacon, married to Harding's elder daughter, insists on fighting the suit, which gets nasty in the public press. The plot focuses on how Mr. Harding, a genuinely kind and good man, deals with the stress and his own conscience, and how his daughter Eleanor struggles between her fierce love for her father and her growing affection for John Bull, the lawyer behind the lawsuit.
    • 3/5
      Not exactly perfectly structured, not beautifully written, simplistic plot. There's plenty of filler - the parody of Carlyle is funny, but did we need two versions? And yet enjoyable - especially if you suspect that 'the media' is mainly a tool for whipping 'the public' into a frenzy with misinformation, that a laudable interest in justice is often perverted by self-interest and naivety, or that the three-volume Victorian novel really was too long - and very smart. You might disagree with the Warden's position, but it's sympathetic, and Trollope doesn't let you agree with it unthinkingly. But really, a long short story would have been enough. I'll definitely dig deeper into his Barchester novels.
    • 4/5
      This is the first book in Trollope’s Chronicles of Barsetshire series. I’d heard in advance that it’s not always the best place to start with the series, but my type A personality insisted I read them in the correct order. It is a slow novel, one where very little action happens and I struggled to get into the first section. But at some point things clicked into place for me. I started to see past the surface plot of a financial debate dealing with the care of a local hospital, and I began to see the characters’ inner struggles.Septimus Harding is the Warden, a title he earned by running Hiram's Hospital, a charity house. His daughter’s beau, John Bold, starts to question how the charity is run and draws up a case against the Warden. Harding has two daughters, Susan, who is already married, and Eleanor, who lives with him and who is being courted by John Bold. Bold’s decision to challenge Harding’s income puts an uncomfortable wrench in his plan to marry Eleanor.Once you get past the initial slow start, the book provides an interesting look at the motives behind actions. Bond sees his purpose as noble and right even though he’s hurting the people he loves. It makes the reader question his decision, is it truly motivated by his beliefs or by his pride? Both Bond and Harding have difficult decisions to make and they are being encouraged by their friends to do very specific things. The local newspaper is also playing a part in aggravating the situation. In the end, does it matter why you make a decision if it is the right one? Or is it more important to stick to your original mission despite the effect it will have on others?In some ways this novel reminded me of Gilead. Both books have a quiet nature and focus on the decisions of elderly men. Both also have a younger man who is struggling with a decision. Both have religious overtones that dictate the path of the main characters. It was an interesting parallel since the two books are set in such different time periods and locations.BOTTOM LINE: An interesting read that took a bit to get into. I’ve heard the next book in the series is better and so I’m excited to read that one. I enjoyed watching Trollope peel away the layers of this issue until the moral core was revealed. I’m looking forward to seeing how he does that in the other Chronicles of Barsetshire novels.“Bold began to comfort himself in the warmth of his own virtue.”“In matters of love men do not see clearly in their own affairs.”“There are some points on which no man can be contented to follow the advice of another,—some subjects on which a man can consult his own conscience only.” 
    • 3/5
      I can't read only fluff in the summertime: my goal for the summer is to bust through a few books in the Barsetshire Chronicles. Loved reading the free ebook, but I used the Penguin Classics edition for the footnotes and intro.
    • 4/5
      Wading through the first two chapters of exposition, I was wondering why anybody still bothered with Trollope. After that, I found out. There's a tidy little story here about a seemingly straightforward issue that becomes increasingly complex as we become familiar with each side of it. I'm not sure what moral is arrived at by the end, since anything I'm able to imagine has a counter-example when viewed from one of the many other perspectives. Perhaps the press comes off as the one true villain of the piece, although it's side of the story is curiously missing from the epilogue so that might be all that created that impression. Trollope plays very fair to all sides - maybe a little too fair, although my sympathies remain with Mr. Harding. This was pre-reading for Barchester Towers; I'll enjoy revisiting these characters but I hope that story will be a little more clear about its message. (PS - appreciated the dig at Dickens he slips into this novel, not sure I agreed with him though.)EDIT: on further thought, the message is that money can't buy the happiness earned by a clean conscience. The Warden feels no worse off for his reduced income, while the tenants lose many of the pleasures they were enjoying after striving for more.
    • 4/5
      The first of the Barsetshire Chronicles by Anthony Trollope. Set in mid 1800's England, Mr. Harding as Warden of a home for the poor. Due to some lucky investments, the Warden receives a sizeable stipend, which was never intended by the original legacy that created the home. Reverend Hardy has the dilemma of choosing between poverty (only 100 pounds a year!) vs. staying in his current comfortable position even though he feels it is morally wrong.

      As a Dickens fan, many people have suggested I read Anthony Trollope. I really enjoyed his style, similar setting to Dickens, but not quite the drama of some of Dickens' novels. I have already picked up the next in the series.

      I listened to the Simon Vance audio edition of this book. Excellent, excellent, excellent!
    • 4/5
      With a small town Victorian setting, the fictional Barsetshire, and an appealing somewhat Austen-like cast of characters, Trollope's novel The Warden illustrates just how complicated reforming a centuries old church policy can be, even when everyone involved has valid concerns and mostly the best of intentions. When John Hiram died in long ago 1434 his will left money and property for the support of twelve impoverished older men retired from the trade of wool-carding, the men being replaced by others as they passed on to the better world, all of which was to be overseen by a warden compensated for his work. The charity has prospered in the 400 or so years since it was established and has been able to continue its mission unabated. Obviously by Victorian times though things had changed--there were no longer wool carders in Barsetshire for instance--so terms have had to be adjusted, but maybe they have strayed too far from the original intent? Currently the twelve elderly recipients are housed in comfortable lodgings, receiving all they need to live and allocated a small amount of money for their own use. Rev. Harding, the just and compassionate warden, also gives the twelve an extra stipend from his own pocket, and the men enjoy both his company and the beautiful music he plays in the evenings. But then John Bold, a reform minded young man incidentally in love with the warden’s daughter, takes it into his head that the warden’s yearly salary is too much and that more of the charity's money should be going directly to the twelve men. Which sets up an achingly poignant conundrum. Should such a caring warden’s income be reduced? Everyone has a strong opinion about what is right, including the men themselves, and when the matter is taken up by the press the poor warden is vilified, horrifying him. There is almost an O. Henry quality to this story, with some surprise twists at the end and most characters having to live with the unexpected consequences of actions they had thought so prudent at the time. Trollope uses The Warden to make lots of observations about human nature and the workings of Victorian society, which are wittily written and for the most part interesting, but they do slow the story down. I had heard The Warden is the weakest of Trollope’s Barsetshire novels, which makes me very eager to read the rest because I loved this one.
    • 4/5
      This tale is the embodiment of irony. In the pages of this novel we find the young and idealistic (and also ambitious) reformer, the honorable clergyman, and the foolish and uneducated. The perfect recipe for ruining what is good and replacing it with something worse. Mr. Trollope includes many asides and witticisms and there is the feeling that while the tale is worth telling, the points the author wants to make are at least as important. Curious style of writing and makes me curious to know what his other books are like.
    • 2/5
      Not my cup of tea. I agree that Trollope is able to tell the stories of the English people, but it is a bit slow. Good for practicing speed reading!
    • 4/5
      I fear this review may put me on the LT naughty step, but I didn't love this anywhere near as much as expected. When it eventually got going it became interesting enough, but for a short novel boy it took it's time. Perhaps it was the clerical setting that I found a little dull until I reached the actual cusp of the tale. Anyway, I felt like I was plodding through this novel for much of it, and actively looking forward to reaching the end so I could get on to my next book.3.5 stars - ultimately a clever tale of consequences, but the diocese setting wasn't for me.
    • 4/5
      The warden, Mr. Harding, was the administrator of a residence for poor, retired and elderly or disabled gentlemen from Barchester. He became embroiled in a dispute over the allocation of trust funds designated to finance the residence. Harding was written as the most honorable, honest and self-effacing man on earth, who was undone by a sanctimonious do-gooder and a muckraking newspaper. Amusing, perceptive, satirical and at times quite current-feeling, this book was very enjoyable. I also liked the narration of the audiobook by Simon Vance. I don't know why I have avoided Trollope for so long, but I intend to try more of them.
    • 4/5
      Enjoyed this little story.....one that really by itself is not too overwhelmingly exciting, but in the hands of a talented writer, it became somewhat dramatic and almost exciting...exciting in that i was very anxious to find out which side in this somewhat legal dilemma would prevail. There were characters that were clearly very likable and others that were definitely not....some you could respect, others to pity. And the whole church/cathedral/politics element was a whole new arena for me to experience. Oddly, my only other Trollope book so far also had a very serious legal trial as a major component, which was remarkably applicable to today's world, and i can say the same for this. Trollope was rather prolific and i am looking forward to the other of this series as well as his many other works.
    • 5/5
      Highly enjoyable satire skewering the administration of bequests by the church, and the role of the press and the law in public disputes. Apart from the language it could have been written today, so sharp was the wit and pillorying of the central protagonists. Dickensian character names e.g. John Bold, who is Bold, but ill-considered; Mr Harding, who is a pushover, not hard at all; etc., add to the fun. Highly recommended to book groups, as ours enjoyed a full 90 minutes of discussion, with more to discuss yet.
    • 5/5
      Without being condescending, I believe modern readers might not be able to properly appreciate the writing qualities of writers such as Trollope. (If one takes Dickens, for example, it seems he is so well-known that people vacillate before giving him bad reviews; I love Dickens, by the way.) Since I was used to reading this kind of book when I was a teenager, his prose doesn't seem difficult or strange at all--even despite the fact that English is not my mother tongue. Then there is the manichaeistic quality of the story; if one considers how main characters are nowadays represented with almost overwhelming negative traits, some of Trollope's might seem like "do-gooders". This first volume of the Barsetshire Chronicles is absolutely fantastic, the characters catching and intriguing. The story has some very enjoyable satirical moments. (It seems Trollope believed one could also enjoy some good chuckles while reading good quality literature--to the reader's absolute advantage!) Characters' names could also be very evocative. Mr. Public Sentiment, a writer of inflammatory rhetoric whose newest novel was the “Almshouse”; Dr. Pessimist Anticant, a “Scotchman, who had passed a great portion of his early days in Germany” examining things and “their intrinsic worth and worthlessness”; Sir Abraham Haphazard, who “always sparkled,” “was a man to be sought for on great emergencies,” but had “no heat.” Trollope had a problem with the media then—which I can relate today. According to him “the public is defrauded when it is purposely misled. Poor public! how often it is misled! against what a world of fraud has it to contend!” And he correctly proclaimed that a newspaper article was nothing “but an expression of the views taken by one side?” True: “Ridiculum acri Fortius et melius magnas plerumque secat res.” He attacked journalists’ unaccountability in the person of the Jupiter’s journalist: “But to whom was he, Tom Towers, responsible?” Towers was “able and willing to guide all men in all things, so long as he is obeyed as autocrat should be obeyed.” The newspaper's evocative name, Jupiter, brings us to Mount Olympus (chapter XV) from where the gods—journalists—would be systematically dictating the opinions to be embraced by the mortals—the “poor public.” Fine humor, brilliant writing, definitely a must read.
    • 4/5
      This novel is a good introduction to the work of Anthony Trollope who wrote dozens of books over his literary career. The themes of church and society in the town of Barchester are on display here along with a portrayal of the media that seems eerily familiar to our own. Trollope's satire is subtle and the story is one that pits the sense of justice of Septimus Harding , the local Warden, against the power of the church and society. Trollope creates a fascinating character in Harding, but he also demonstrates the way the unintended consequences of our actions have a way of overtaking us and those around us. This is shown in the actions of the young firebrand John Bold who finds his feelings for Harding's daughter ultimately win out over his call for social justice. Overall this is a good example of one of the greatest of victorian novelists.
    • 4/5
      Trollope's first book in the Barchester Chronicles. I found it slow in the beginning, but worth pursuing.
    • 4/5
      It seems nothing much has changed since Victorian times: the church can still spark dissension, the press will still fan the flames of controversy. While this book deals with finances related to an almshouse connected to the church, it is reminiscent of a more recent scandal of the church that became a similar tangled mess. Trollope managed the topic with great diplomacy: Reverend Harding is a sympathetic, lovable, man of integrity, while the appropriately-named Bold, strikes before thinking. Eleanor Harding is delightful, but I cannot condone her choice of love interest. Harding's visit to London was the most entertaining part of the story. Any traveller with time to kill in an unfamiliar place can sympathize.I loved this book once again, and this time I will move on to the rest of Barsetshire Chronicles.
    • 4/5
      Ahh... Mr. Harding. One of the true good guys in all the history of literature.
    • 4/5
      A nice little regency story about the warden of a hospital for elderly gentlemen, his loving daughter, and the man she loves, who is leading the campaign to take away her fathers wardenship (and thus livelihood). It has an understated moral (better the devil you know than the devil you don't know!), and the author's asides are worth reading the book for (although it is a great story)!
    • 4/5
      I had been saving Trollope for later life, largely because I was worried that once I got started I might feel compelled to read all 47 of his novels. But somehow read the first few pages of this and couldn't put it down. The story is rather slight, many of the characters absurd, some of the satire over the top, but somehow it is enjoying and compelling from beginning to end.The story is about a church official who also serves as the beneficent, albeit well remunerated, Warden of an almshouse for twelve elderly, indigent men. He becomes the target of a local reformer who wants more of the endowment to go to the poor and less to the Warden. A series of lawsuits and machinations follow, lightly interspersed with a wooden romance, and along the way Trollope skewers parliament, the media, the Church of England, philosophical writers, Charles Dickens, and others. Unlike Dickens, none of the characters -- minor or major -- have much life to them. And most of them are painfully cardboard.But somehow the careful descriptions, the impossible situation depicted, and the panormatic view of this tiny segment of time, space and society are compelling. As one of Trollope's earliest works, I can only assume they get better -- and will require some restraint not to pick up another Trollope novel anytime soon.

    Book preview

    The Warden - Anthony Trollope

    NONFICTION

    Chapter 1

    HIRAM’S HOSPITAL

    THE REV. SEPTIMUS HARDING was, a few years since, a beneficed clergyman residing in the cathedral town of——; let us call it Barchester. Were we to name Wells or Salisbury, Exeter, Hereford, or Gloucester, it might be presumed that something personal was intended; and as this tale will refer mainly to the cathedral dignitaries of the town in question, we are anxious that no personality may be suspected. Let us presume that Barchester is a quiet town in the West of England, more remarkable for the beauty of its cathedral and the antiquity of its monuments, than for any commercial prosperity; that the west end of Barchester is the cathedral close, and that the aristocracy of Barchester are the bishop, dean, and canons, with their respective wives and daughters.

    Early in life Mr. Harding found himself located at Barchester. A fine voice and a taste for sacred music had decided the position in which he was to exercise his caning, and for many years he performed the easy but not highly paid duties of a minor canon. At the age of forty a small living in the close vicinity of the town increased both his work and his income, and at the age of fifty he became precentor of the cathedral.

    Mr. Harding had married early in life, and was the father of two daughters. The eldest, Susan, was born soon after his marriage; the other, Eleanor, not till ten years later. At the time at which we introduce him to our readers he was living as precentor at Barchester with his youngest daughter, then twenty-four years of age; having been many years a widower, and having married his eldest daughter to a son of the bishop, a very short time before his installation to the office of precentor.

    Scandal at Barchester affirmed that had it not been for the beauty of his daughter, Mr. Harding would have remained a minor canon; but here probably Scandal lied, as she so often does; for even as a minor canon no one had been more popular among his reverend brethren in the close, than Mr. Harding; and Scandal, before she had reprobated Mr. Harding for being made precentor by his friend the bishop, had loudly blamed the bishop for having so long omitted to do something for his friend Mr. Harding. Be this as it may, Susan Harding, some twelve years since, had married the Rev. Dr. Theophilus Grantly, son of the bishop, archdeacon of Barchester, and rector of Plumstead Episcopi, and her father became, a few months later, precentor of Barchester Cathedral, that office being, as is not unusual, in the bishop’s gift.

    Now there are peculiar circumstances connected with the precentorship which must be explained. In the year 1434 there died at Barchester one John Hiram, who had made money in the town as a woolstapler, and in his will he left the house in which he died and certain meadows and closes near the town, still called Hiram’s Butts, and Hiram’s Patch, for the support of twelve superannuated wool-carders, all of whom should have been born and bred and spent their days in Barchester; he also appointed that an alms-house should be built for their abode, with a fitting residence for a warden, which warden was also to receive a certain sum annually out of the rents of the said butts and patches. He, moreover, willed, having had a soul alive to harmony, that the precentor of the cathedral should have the option of being also warden of the alms-houses, if the bishop in each case approved.

    From that day to this the charity has gone on and prospered—at least the charity had gone on, and the estates had prospered. Wool-carding in Barchester there was no longer any; so the bishop, dean, and warden, who took it in turn to put in the old men, generally appointed some hangers-on of their own; worn-out gardeners, decrepit gravediggers, or octogenarian sextons, who thankfully received a comfortable lodging and one shilling and fourpence a day, such being the stipend to which, under the will of John Hiram, they were declared to be entitled. Formerly, indeed,—that is, till within some fifty years of the present time,—they received but sixpence a day, and their breakfast and dinner was found them at a common table by the warden, such an arrangement being in stricter conformity with the absolute wording of old Hiram’s will: but this was thought to be inconvenient, and to suit the tastes of neither warden nor bedesmen, and the daily one shilling and fourpence was substituted with the common consent of all parties, including the bishop and the corporation of Barchester.

    Such was the condition of Hiram’s twelve old men when Mr. Harding was appointed warden; but if they may be considered to have been well-to-do in the world according to their condition, the happy warden was much more so. The patches and butts which, in John Hiram’s time, produced hay or fed cows, were now covered with rows of houses; the value of the property had gradually increased from year to year and century to century, and was now presumed by those who knew anything about it, to bring in a very nice income; and by some who knew nothing about it, to have increased to an almost fabulous extent.

    The property was farmed by a gentleman in Barchester, who also acted as the bishop’s steward,—a man whose father and grandfather had been stewards to the bishops of Barchester, and farmers of John Hiram’s estate. The Chadwicks had earned a good name in Barchester; they had lived respected by bishops, deans, canons, and precentors; they had been buried in the precincts of the cathedral; they had never been known as griping, hard men, but had always lived comfortably, maintained a good house, and held a high position in Barchester society. The present Mr. Chadwick was a worthy scion of a worthy stock, and the tenants living on the butts and patches, as well as those on the wide episcopal domains of the see, were well pleased to have to do with so worthy and liberal a steward.

    For many, many years,—records hardly tell how many, probably from the time when Hiram’s wishes had been first fully carried out,—the proceeds of the estate had been paid by the steward or farmer to the warden, and by him divided among the bedesmen; after which division he paid himself such sums as became his due. Times had been when the poor warden got nothing but his bare house, for the patches had been subject to floods, and the land of Barchester butts was said to be unproductive; and in these hard times the warden was hardly able to make out the daily dole for his twelve dependents. But by degrees things mended; the patches were drained, and cottages began to rise upon the butts, and the wardens, with fairness enough, repaid themselves for the evil days gone by. In bad times the poor men had had their due, and therefore in good times they could expect no more. In this manner the income of the warden had increased; the picturesque house attached to the hospital had been enlarged and adorned, and the office had become one of the most coveted of the snug clerical sinecures attached to our church. It was now wholly in the bishop’s gift, and though the dean and chapter, in former days, made a stand on the subject, they had thought it more conducive to their honour to have a rich precentor appointed by the bishop, than a poor one appointed by themselves. The stipend of the precentor of Barchester was eighty pounds a year. The income arising from the wardenship of the hospital was eight hundred, besides the value of the house.

    Murmurs, very slight murmurs, had been heard in Barchester,—few indeed, and far between,—that the proceeds of John Hiram’s property had not been fairly divided: but they can hardly be said to have been of such a nature as to have caused uneasiness to any one. Still the thing had been whispered, and Mr. Harding had heard it. Such was his character in Barchester, so universal was his popularity, that the very fact of his appointment would have quieted louder whispers than those which had been heard; but Mr. Harding was an open-handed, just-minded man, and feeling that there might be truth in what had been said, he had, on his instalment, declared his intention of adding twopence a day to each man’s pittance, making a sum of sixty-two pounds eleven shillings and fourpence, which he was to pay out of his own pocket. In doing so, however, he distinctly and repeatedly observed to the men, that though he promised for himself, he could not promise for his successors, and that the extra twopence could only be looked on as a gift from himself, and not from the trust. The bedesmen, however, were most of them older than Mr. Harding, and were quite satisfied with the security on which their extra income was based.

    This munificence on the part of Mr. Harding had not been unopposed. Mr. Chadwick had mildly but seriously dissuaded him from it; and his strong-minded son-in-law, the archdeacon, the man of whom alone Mr. Harding stood in awe, had urgently, nay, vehemently, opposed so impolitic a concession. But the warden had made known his intention to the hospital before the archdeacon had been able to interfere, and the deed was done.

    Hiram’s Hospital, as the retreat is called, is a picturesque building enough, and shows the correct taste with which the ecclesiastical architects of those days were imbued. It stands on the banks of the little river, which flows nearly round the cathedral close, being on the side furthest from the town. The London road crosses the river by a pretty one-arched bridge, and, looking from this bridge, the stranger will see the windows of the old men’s rooms, each pair of windows separated by a small buttress. A broad gravel walk runs between the building and the river, which is always trim and cared for; and at the end of the walk, under the parapet of the approach to the bridge, is a large and well-worn seat, on which, in mild weather, three or four of Hiram’s bedesmen are sure to be seen seated. Beyond this row of buttresses, and further from the bridge, and also further from the water which here suddenly bends, are the pretty oriel windows of Mr. Harding’s house, and his well-mown lawn. The entrance to the hospital is from the London road, and is made through a ponderous gateway under a heavy stone arch, unnecessary, one would suppose, at any time, for the protection of twelve old men, but greatly conducive to the good appearance of Hiram’s charity. On passing through this portal, never closed to any one from six A.M. till ten P.M., and never open afterwards, except on application to a huge, intricately hung mediæval bell, the handle of which no uninitiated intruder can possibly find, the six doors of the old men’s abodes are seen, and beyond them is a slight iron screen, through which the more happy portion of the Barchester élite pass into the Elysium of Mr. Harding’s dwelling.

    Mr. Harding is a small man, now verging on sixty years, but bearing few of the signs of age; his hair is rather grizzled than grey; his eye is very mild, but clear and bright, though the double glasses which are held swinging from his hand, unless when fixed upon his nose, show that time has told upon his sight; his hands are delicately white, and both hands and feet are small; he always wears a black frock coat, black knee-breeches, and black gaiters, and somewhat scandalises some of his more hyper-clerical brethren by a black neck-handkerchief.

    Mr. Harding’s warmest admirers cannot say that he was ever an industrious man; the circumstances of his life have not called on him to be so; and yet he can hardly be called an idler. Since his appointment to his precentorship, he has published, with all possible additions of vellum, typography, and gilding, a collection of our ancient church music, with some correct dissertations on Purcell, Crotch, and Nares. He has greatly improved the choir of Barchester, which, under his dominion, now rivals that of any cathedral in England. He has taken something more than his fair share in the cathedral services, and has played the violoncello daily to such audiences as he could collect, or, faute de mieux, to no audience at all.

    We must mention one other peculiarity of Mr. Harding. As we have before stated, he has an income of eight hundred a year, and has no family but his one daughter; and yet he is never quite at ease in money matters. The vellum and gilding of Harding’s Church Music cost more than any one knows, except the author, the publisher, and the Rev. Theophilus Grantly, who allows none of his father-in-law’s extravagances to escape him. Then he is generous to his daughter, for whose service he keeps a small carriage and pair of ponies. He is, indeed, generous to all, but especially to the twelve old men who are in a peculiar manner under his care. No doubt with such an income Mr. Harding should be above the world, as the saying is; but at any rate, he is not above Archdeacon Theophilus Grantly, for he is always more or less in debt to his son-in-law, who has, to a certain extent, assumed the arrangement of the precentor’s pecuniary affairs.

    Chapter 2

    THE BARCHESTER REFORMER

    MR. HARDING has been now precentor of Barchester for ten years; and, alas, the murmurs respecting the proceeds of Hiram’s estate are again becoming audible. It is not that any one begrudges to Mr. Harding the income which he enjoys, and the comfortable place which so well becomes him; but such matters have begun to be talked of in various parts of England. Eager pushing politicians have asserted in the House of Commons, with very telling indignation, that the grasping priests of the Church of England are gorged with the wealth which the charity of former times has left for the solace of the aged, or the education of the young. The well-known case of the Hospital of St. Cross has even come before the law courts of the country, and the struggles of Mr. Whiston, at Rochester, have met with sympathy and support. Men are beginning to say increasingly that these things must be looked into.

    Mr. Harding, whose conscience in the matter is clear, and who has never felt that he had received a pound from Hiram’s will to which he was not entitled, has naturally taken the part of the church in talking over these matters with his friend, the bishop, and his son-in-law, the archdeacon.

    The archdeacon, indeed, Dr. Grantly, has been somewhat loud in the matter. He is a personal friend of the dignitaries of the Rochester Chapter, and has written letters in the public press on the subject of that turbulent Dr. Whiston, which, his admirers think, must well nigh set the question at rest. It is also known at Oxford, that he is the author of the pamphlet signed Sacerdos on the subject of the Earl of Guildford and St. Cross, in which it is so clearly argued that the manners of the present times do not admit of a literal adhesion to the very words of the founder’s will, but that the interests of the church for which the founder was so deeply concerned, are best consulted in enabling its bishops to reward those shining lights, whose services have been most signally serviceable to Christianity. In answer to this, it is asserted that Henry de Blois, founder of St. Cross, was not greatly interested in the welfare of the reformed church, and that the masters of St. Cross, for many years past, cannot be called shining lights in the service of Christianity; it is, however, stoutly maintained, and no doubt felt, by all the archdeacon’s friends, that his logic is conclusive, and has not, in fact, been answered.

    With such a tower of strength to back both his arguments and his conscience, it may be imagined that Mr. Harding has never felt any compunction as to receiving his quarterly sum of two hundred pounds. Indeed, the subject has never presented itself to his mind in that shape. He has talked not unfrequently, and heard very much about the wills of old founders and the incomes arising from their estates, during the last year or two; he did even, at one moment, feel a doubt (since expelled by his son-in-law’s logic) as to whether Lord Guildford was clearly entitled to receive so enormous an income as he does from the revenues of St. Cross; but that he himself was over-paid with his modest eight hundred pounds,—he who, out of that, voluntarily gave up sixty-two pounds eleven shillings and fourpence a year to his twelve old neighbours,—he who, for the money, does his precentor’s work as no precentor has done it before, since Barchester Cathedral was built,—such an idea has never sullied his quiet, or disturbed his conscience.

    Nevertheless, Mr. Harding is becoming uneasy at the rumour which he knows to prevail in Barchester on the subject. He is aware that, at any rate, two of his old men have been heard to say, that if every one had his own, they might each have their hundred pounds a year, and live like gentlemen, instead of a beggarly one shilling and sixpence a day; and that they had slender cause to be thankful for a miserable dole of twopence, when Mr. Harding and Mr. Chadwick, between them, ran away with thousands of pounds which good old John Hiram never intended for the like of them. It is the ingratitude of this which stings Mr. Harding. One of this discontented pair, Abel Handy, was put into the hospital by himself; he had been a stone-mason in Barchester, and had broken his thigh by a fall from a scaffolding, while employed about the cathedral; and Mr. Harding had given him the first vacancy in the hospital after the occurrence, although Dr. Grantly had been very anxious to put into it an insufferable clerk of his at Plumstead Episcopi, who had lost all his teeth, and whom the archdeacon hardly knew how to get rid of by other means. Dr. Grantly has not forgotten to remind Mr. Harding how well satisfied with his one and sixpence a day old Joe Mutters would have been, and how injudicious it was on the part of Mr. Harding to allow a radical from the town to get into the concern. Probably Dr. Grantly forgot, at the moment, that the charity was intended for broken-down journeymen of Barchester.

    There is living at Barchester, a young man, a surgeon, named John Bold, and both Mr. Harding and Dr. Grantly are well aware that to him is owing the pestilent rebellious feeling which has shown itself in the hospital; yes, and the renewal, too, of that disagreeable talk about Hiram’s estates which is now again prevalent in Barchester. Nevertheless, Mr. Harding and Mr. Bold are acquainted with each other. We may say, are friends, considering the great disparity in their years. Dr. Grantly, however, has a holy horror of the impious demagogue, as on one occasion he called Bold, when speaking of him to the precentor; and being a more prudent far-seeing man than Mr. Harding, and possessed of a stronger head, he already perceives that this John Bold will work great trouble in Barchester. He considers that he is to be regarded as an enemy, and thinks that he should not be admitted into the camp on anything like friendly terms. As John Bold will occupy much of our attention, we must endeavour to explain who he is, and why he takes the part of John Hiram’s bedesmen.

    John Bold is a young surgeon, who passed many of his boyish years at Barchester. His father was a physician in the city of London, where he made a moderate fortune, which he invested in houses in that city. The Dragon of Wantly inn and posting-house belonged to him, also four shops in the High Street, and a moiety of the new row of genteel villas (so called in the advertisements), built outside the town just beyond Hiram’s Hospital. To one of these Dr. Bold retired to spend the evening of his life, and to die; and here his son John spent his holidays, and afterwards his Christmas vacation, when he went from school to study surgery in the London hospitals. Just as John Bold was entitled to write himself surgeon and apothecary, old Dr. Bold died, leaving his Barchester property to his son, and a certain sum in the three per cents to his daughter Mary, who is some four or five years older than her brother.

    John Bold determined to settle himself at Barchester, and look after his own property, as well as the bones and bodies of such of his neighbours as would call upon him for assistance in their troubles. He therefore put up a large brass plate, with John Bold, Surgeon, on it, to the great disgust of the nine practitioners who were already trying to get a living out of the bishop, dean, and canons; and began house-keeping with the aid of his sister. At this time he was not more than twenty-four years old; and though he has now been three years in Barchester, we have not heard that he has done much harm to the nine worthy practitioners. Indeed, their dread of him has died away; for in three years he has

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