Chapter: I would not creep along the coast but steer
    Out in mid-sea, by guidance of the stars.


When Dorothea, walking round the laurel-planted plots of the New
Hospital with Lydgate, had learned from him that there were no signs of
change in Mr. Casaubon's bodily condition beyond the mental sign of
anxiety to know the truth about his illness, she was silent for a few
moments, wondering whether she had said or done anything to rouse this
new anxiety.  Lydgate, not willing to let slip an opportunity of
furthering a favorite purpose, ventured to say--

"I don't know whether your or Mr.--Casaubon's attention has been drawn
to the needs of our New Hospital.  Circumstances have made it seem
rather egotistic in me to urge the subject; but that is not my fault:
it is because there is a fight being made against it by the other
medical men.  I think you are generally interested in such things, for
I remember that when I first had the pleasure of seeing you at Tipton
Grange before your marriage, you were asking me some questions about
the way in which the health of the poor was affected by their miserable
housing."

"Yes, indeed," said Dorothea, brightening.  "I shall be quite grateful
to you if you will tell me how I can help to make things a little
better.  Everything of that sort has slipped away from me since I have
been married.  I mean," she said, after a moment's hesitation, "that
the people in our village are tolerably comfortable, and my mind has
been too much taken up for me to inquire further.  But here--in such a
place as Middlemarch--there must be a great deal to be done."

"There is everything to be done," said Lydgate, with abrupt energy.
"And this Hospital is a capital piece of work, due entirely to Mr.
Bulstrode's exertions, and in a great degree to his money.  But one man
can't do everything in a scheme of this sort.  Of course he looked
forward to help.  And now there's a mean, petty feud set up against the
thing in the town, by certain persons who want to make it a failure."

"What can be their reasons?" said Dorothea, with naive surprise.

"Chiefly Mr. Bulstrode's unpopularity, to begin with.  Half the town
would almost take trouble for the sake of thwarting him.  In this
stupid world most people never consider that a thing is good to be done
unless it is done by their own set.  I had no connection with Bulstrode
before I came here.  I look at him quite impartially, and I see that he
has some notions--that he has set things on foot--which I can turn to
good public purpose.  If a fair number of the better educated men went
to work with the belief that their observations might contribute to the
reform of medical doctrine and practice, we should soon see a change
for the better.  That's my point of view.  I hold that by refusing to
work with Mr. Bulstrode I should be turning my back on an opportunity
of making my profession more generally serviceable."

"I quite agree with you," said Dorothea, at once fascinated by the
situation sketched in Lydgate's words.  "But what is there against Mr.
Bulstrode?  I know that my uncle is friendly with him."

"People don't like his religious tone," said Lydgate, breaking off
there.

"That is all the stronger reason for despising such an opposition,"
said Dorothea, looking at the affairs of Middlemarch by the light of
the great persecutions.

"To put the matter quite fairly, they have other objections to him:--he
is masterful and rather unsociable, and he is concerned with trade,
which has complaints of its own that I know nothing about.  But what
has that to do with the question whether it would not be a fine thing
to establish here a more valuable hospital than any they have in the
county?  The immediate motive to the opposition, however, is the fact
that Bulstrode has put the medical direction into my hands.  Of course
I am glad of that.  It gives me an opportunity of doing some good
work,--and I am aware that I have to justify his choice of me.  But the
consequence is, that the whole profession in Middlemarch have set
themselves tooth and nail against the Hospital, and not only refuse to
cooperate themselves, but try to blacken the whole affair and hinder
subscriptions."

"How very petty!" exclaimed Dorothea, indignantly.

"I suppose one must expect to fight one's way: there is hardly anything
to be done without it.  And the ignorance of people about here is
stupendous.  I don't lay claim to anything else than having used some
opportunities which have not come within everybody's reach; but there
is no stifling the offence of being young, and a new-comer, and
happening to know something more than the old inhabitants.  Still, if I
believe that I can set going a better method of treatment--if I
believe that I can pursue certain observations and inquiries which may
be a lasting benefit to medical practice, I should be a base truckler
if I allowed any consideration of personal comfort to hinder me.  And
the course is all the clearer from there being no salary in question to
put my persistence in an equivocal light."

"I am glad you have told me this, Mr. Lydgate," said Dorothea,
cordially.  "I feel sure I can help a little.  I have some money, and
don't know what to do with it--that is often an uncomfortable thought
to me.  I am sure I can spare two hundred a-year for a grand purpose
like this.  How happy you must be, to know things that you feel sure
will do great good!  I wish I could awake with that knowledge every
morning.  There seems to be so much trouble taken that one can hardly
see the good of!"

There was a melancholy cadence in Dorothea's voice as she spoke these
last words.  But she presently added, more cheerfully, "Pray come to
Lowick and tell us more of this.  I will mention the subject to Mr.
Casaubon.  I must hasten home now."

She did mention it that evening, and said that she should like to
subscribe two hundred a-year--she had seven hundred a-year as the
equivalent of her own fortune, settled on her at her marriage.  Mr.
Casaubon made no objection beyond a passing remark that the sum might
be disproportionate in relation to other good objects, but when
Dorothea in her ignorance resisted that suggestion, he acquiesced.  He
did not care himself about spending money, and was not reluctant to
give it.  If he ever felt keenly any question of money it was through
the medium of another passion than the love of material property.

Dorothea told him that she had seen Lydgate, and recited the gist of
her conversation with him about the Hospital.  Mr. Casaubon did not
question her further, but he felt sure that she had wished to know what
had passed between Lydgate and himself "She knows that I know," said
the ever-restless voice within; but that increase of tacit knowledge
only thrust further off any confidence between them.  He distrusted her
affection; and what loneliness is more lonely than distrust?

 Dorothea and Lydgate are discussing the new hospital. Lydgate explains that it's very important for the town to have this new fever hospital, but, because it's being funded mostly by Bulstrode, a lot of prominent townspeople are against it - Bulstrode isn't popular in certain circles. And some of the other medical men are against it, because they disapprove of Lydgate's new-fangled scientific methods. Dorothea thinks that it all sounds very petty, and agrees to help fund the hospital. She likes helping people, and thinks that this will be a good way to do it.

