Odd, he thought dimly. How whenever you had a group of men, they seemed to find their proper jobs, no matter whether it was a thing they’d done before. Morrison had been a cottar, like most of them. Likely a good hand with his beasts, but not thinking much about it. Now he was the natural healer for the men, the one they turned to with a griping belly or a broken thumb. Morrison knew little more than the rest, but the men turned to him when they were hurt, as they turned to Seumus Mac Dubh for reassurance and direction. And for justice. (185)Earlier in the novel, Morrison's affinity for healing has been introduced:
The prison had no doctor; Morrison, who had a touch for healing, was permitted by the guards to go from cell to cell to tend the sick or injured, at Mac Dubh’s request. (120)As Jamie himself is under Morrison's ministrations after the flogging, he considers further the roles that the men fall into, in prison or out, seeming to conclude that they are something innate:
He lay still then under Morrison’s hand, eyes closed, and waited for the sounds to stop. Despite himself, he wondered who it was, that administrator of blind justice in the dark. Sinclair. His mind supplied the answer without hesitation. And Hayes and Lindsay helping, no doubt.And again:
They could no more help themselves than he could, or Morrison. Men did as they were born to. One man a healer, another a bully. (187-188)
One man with the weakness for drink, another with a hatred of it. One man a lover of women, and another… (188)While these last aren't truly related to vocation, they (and Lord John's propensities) are included in Jamie's more general consideration of "nature." While vocation is understood as something God-given in religious discourse, that line of thought is absent from Claire's and (for now) Roger's considerations of the topic. Jamie introduces it, specifically making reference to Pentacost and the Holy Spirit:
He wondered where they came from, these gifts that shaped a man’s nature. From God?I would venture to suggest that at this point, the sense of vocation as being innate (in those who have it) and from God is dominant.
Was it like the descent of the Paraclete, and the tongues of fire that came to rest on the apostles? (188)
Claire, his own Claire— who knew what had sent her to him, had thrust her into a life she had surely not been born to? And yet she had known what to do, what she was meant to be, despite that. Not everyone was so fortunate as to know their gift. (188)Claire's exceptionalism is underscored here.
A new thread in this consideration is Jamie's thought for men who are not born into the roles they must fulfill:
He had been born a leader, then bent and shaped further to fit such a destiny. But what of a man who had not been born to the role he was required to fill? John Grey, for one. Charles Stuart for another.The implicit comparison between Charles Stuart (a lover of women) and John Grey (...) is curious, as the men seem to have little in common beyond Jamie's impression of their mutual inability to fulfill their roles. However, this consideration shows Jamie as particularly empathetic--something that has been emerging, but has not always emerged in such a direct way, in each of the three novels. He is able to see how both of his--estranged friends, one might say--feels. The narrative suggests, here, that part of Jamie's talent for leadership is his empathy. Claire, in fact, is not as empathetic, and is able to be somewhat ruthless because of it--but perhaps a general and lord is more in need of empathy than a doctor... and mother?
For the first time in ten years, from this strange distance, he could find it in himself to forgive that feeble man who had once been his friend. Having so often paid the price exacted by his own gift, he could at last see the more terrible doom of having been born a king, without the gift of kingship. (189)
Gabaldon, Diana (2004-10-26). Voyager (Outlander) Random House, Inc.. Kindle Edition.
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