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But Mary herself began to be more agitated by the remembrance of what she had gone through , than she had been by the reality — questioning those acts of hers which had come imperatively and excluded all question in the critical moment . Presently the dry wood sent out a flame which illuminated every crevice , and Mary saw that the old man was lying quietly with his head turned a little on one side . She went towards him with inaudible steps , and thought that his face looked strangely motionless ; but the next moment the movement of the flame communicating itself to all objects made her uncertain . The violent beating of her heart rendered her perceptions so doubtful that even when she touched him and listened for his breathing , she could not trust her conclusions . She went to the window and gently propped aside the curtain and blind , so that the still light of the sky fell on the bed . The next moment she ran to the bell and rang it energetically . In a very little while there was no longer any doubt that Peter Featherstone was dead , with his right hand clasping the keys , and his left hand lying on the heap of notes and gold . BOOK IV . THREE LOVE PROBLEMS . CHAPTER XXXIV . “ 1st Gent . Such men as this are feathers , chips , and straws , Carry no weight , no force . 2d Gent . But levity Is causal too , and makes the sum of weight . For power finds its place in lack of power ; Advance is cession , and the driven ship May run aground because the helmsman’s thought Lacked force to balance opposites . ” It was on a morning of May that Peter Featherstone was buried . In the prosaic neighborhood of Middlemarch , May was not always warm and sunny , and on this particular morning a chill wind was blowing the blossoms from the surrounding gardens on to the green mounds of Lowick churchyard . Swiftly moving clouds only now and then allowed a gleam to light up any object , whether ugly or beautiful , that happened to stand within its golden shower . In the churchyard the objects were remarkably various , for there was a little country crowd waiting to see the funeral . The news had spread that it was to be a “ big burying ; ” the old gentleman had left written directions about everything and meant to have a funeral “ beyond his betters . ” This was true ; for old Featherstone had not been a Harpagon whose passions had all been devoured by the ever - lean and ever - hungry passion of saving , and who would drive a bargain with his undertaker beforehand . He loved money , but he also loved to spend it in gratifying his peculiar tastes , and perhaps he loved it best of all as a means of making others feel his power more or less uncomfortably .
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