This is a very bare and therefore a very incomplete way of putting the case.  The human soul moves in many channels, and Mr. Casaubon, we know, had a sense of rectitude and an honorable pride in satisfying the requirements of honor, which compelled him to find other reasons for his conduct than those of jealousy and vindictiveness.  The way in which Mr. Casaubon put the case was this:—­“In marrying Dorothea Brooke I had to care for her well-being in case of my death.  But well-being is not to be secured by ample, independent possession of property; on the contrary, occasions might arise in which such possession might expose her to the more danger.  She is ready prey to any man who knows how to play adroitly either on her affectionate ardor or her Quixotic enthusiasm; and a man stands by with that very intention in his mind—­a man with no other principle than transient caprice, and who has a personal animosity towards me—­ I am sure of it—­an animosity which is fed by the consciousness of his ingratitude, and which he has constantly vented in ridicule of which I am as well assured as if I had heard it.  Even if I live I shall not be without uneasiness as to what he may attempt through indirect influence.  This man has gained Dorothea’s ear:  he has fascinated her attention; he has evidently tried to impress her mind with the notion that he has claims beyond anything I have done for him.  If I die—­and he is waiting here on the watch for that—­ he will persuade her to marry him.  That would be calamity for her and success for him. She would not think it calamity:  he would make her believe anything; she has a tendency to immoderate attachment which she inwardly reproaches me for not responding to, and already her mind is occupied with his fortunes.  He thinks of an easy conquest and of entering into my nest.  That I will hinder!  Such a marriage would be fatal to Dorothea.  Has he ever persisted in anything except from contradiction?  In knowledge he has always tried to be showy at small cost.  In religion he could be, as long as it suited him, the facile echo of Dorothea’s vagaries.  When was sciolism ever dissociated from laxity?  I utterly distrust his morals, and it is my duty to hinder to the utmost the fulfilment of his designs.”

The arrangements made by Mr. Casaubon on his marriage left strong measures open to him, but in ruminating on them his mind inevitably dwelt so much on the probabilities of his own life that the longing to get the nearest possible calculation had at last overcome his proud reticence, and had determined him to ask Lydgate’s opinion as to the nature of his illness.

He had mentioned to Dorothea that Lydgate was coming by appointment at half-past three, and in answer to her anxious question, whether he had felt ill, replied,—­“No, I merely wish to have his opinion concerning some habitual symptoms.  You need not see him, my dear.  I shall give orders that he may be sent to me in the Yew-tree Walk, where I shall be taking my usual exercise.”