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RETURN
I landed in London on a wintry autumn evening. It was dark and
raining, and I saw more fog and mud in a minute than I had seen
in a year. I walked from the Custom House to the Monument before
I found a coach; and although the very house-fronts, looking on
the swollen gutters, were like old friends to me, I could not but
admit that they were very dingy friends.
I have often remarked - I suppose everybody has - that one's
going away from a familiar place, would seem to be the signal for
change in it. As I looked out of the coach window, and observed
that an old house on Fish-street Hill, which had stood untouched
by painter, carpenter, or bricklayer, for a century, had been pulled
down in my absence; and that a neighbouring street, of time-honoured
insalubrity and inconvenience, was being drained and widened; I
half expected to find St. Paul's Cathedral looking older.
For some changes in the fortunes of my friends, I was prepared.
My aunt had long been re-established at Dover, and Traddles had
begun to get into some little practice at the Bar, in the very first
term after my departure. He had chambers in Gray's Inn, now; and
had told me, in his last letters, that he was not without hopes
of being soon united to the dearest girl in the world.
They expected me home before Christmas; but had no idea of my
returning so soon. I had purposely misled them, that I might have
the pleasure of taking them by surprise. And yet, I was perverse
enough to feel a chill and disappointment in receiving no welcome,
and rattling, alone and silent, through the misty streets.
The well-known shops, however, with their cheerful lights, did
something for me; and when I alighted at the door of the Gray's
Inn Coffee-house, I had recovered my spirits. It recalled, at first,
that so-different time when I had put up at the Golden Cross, and
reminded me of the changes that had come to pass since then; but
that was natural.
'Do you know where Mr. Traddles lives in the Inn?' I asked the
waiter, as I warmed myself by the coffee-room fire.
'Holborn Court, sir. Number two.'
'Mr. Traddles has a rising reputation among the lawyers, I believe?'
said I.
'Well, sir,' returned the waiter, 'probably he has, sir; but
I am not aware of it myself.'
This waiter, who was middle-aged and spare, looked for help to
a waiter of more authority - a stout, potential old man, with a
double chin, in black breeches and stockings, who came out of a
place like a churchwarden's pew, at the end of the coffee-room,
where he kept company with a cash-box, a Directory, a Law-list,
and other books and papers.
'Mr. Traddles,' said the spare waiter. 'Number two in the Court.'
The potential waiter waved him away, and turned, gravely, to
me.
'I was inquiring,' said I, 'whether Mr. Traddles, at number two
in the Court, has not a rising reputation among the lawyers?'
'Never heard his name,' said the waiter, in a rich husky voice.
I felt quite apologetic for Traddles.
'He's a young man, sure?' said the portentous waiter, fixing
his eyes severely on me. 'How long has he been in the Inn?'
'Not above three years,' said I.
The waiter, who I supposed had lived in his churchwarden's pew
for forty years, could not pursue such an insignificant subject.
He asked me what I would have for dinner?
I felt I was in England again, and really was quite cast down
on Traddles's account. There seemed to be no hope for him. I meekly
ordered a bit of fish and a steak, and stood before the fire musing
on his obscurity.
As I followed the chief waiter with my eyes, I could not help
thinking that the garden in which he had gradually blown to be the
flower he was, was an arduous place to rise in. It had such a prescriptive,
stiff-necked, long-established, solemn, elderly air. I glanced about
the room, which had had its sanded floor sanded, no doubt, in exactly
the same manner when the chief waiter was a boy - if he ever was
a boy, which appeared improbable; and at the shining tables, where
I saw myself reflected, in unruffled depths of old mahogany; and
at the lamps, without a flaw in their trimming or cleaning; and
at the comfortable green curtains, with their pure brass rods, snugly
enclosing the boxes; and at the two large coal fires, brightly burning;
and at the rows of decanters, burly as if with the consciousness
of pipes of expensive old port wine below; and both England, and
the law, appeared to me to be very difficult indeed to be taken
by storm. I went up to my bedroom to change my wet clothes; and
the vast extent of that old wainscoted apartment (which was over
the archway leading to the Inn, I remember), and the sedate immensity
of the four-post bedstead, and the indomitable gravity of the chests
of drawers, all seemed to unite in sternly frowning on the fortunes
of Traddles, or on any such daring youth. I came down again to my
dinner; and even the slow comfort of the meal, and the orderly silence
of the place - which was bare of guests, the Long Vacation not yet
being over - were eloquent on the audacity of Traddles, and his
small hopes of a livelihood for twenty years to come.
I had seen nothing like this since I went away, and it quite
dashed my hopes for my friend. The chief waiter had had enough of
me. He came near me no more; but devoted himself to an old gentleman
in long gaiters, to meet whom a pint of special port seemed to come
out of the cellar of its own accord, for he gave no order. The second
waiter informed me, in a whisper, that this old gentleman was a
retired conveyancer living in the Square, and worth a mint of money,
which it was expected he would leave to his laundress's daughter;
likewise that it was rumoured that he had a service of plate in
a bureau, all tarnished with lying by, though more than one spoon
and a fork had never yet been beheld in his chambers by mortal vision.
By this time, I quite gave Traddles up for lost; and settled in
my own mind that there was no hope for him.
Being very anxious to see the dear old fellow, nevertheless,
I dispatched my dinner, in a manner not at all calculated to raise
me in the opinion of the chief waiter, and hurried out by the back
way. Number two in the Court was soon reached; and an inscription
on the door-post informing me that Mr. Traddles occupied a set of
chambers on the top storey, I ascended the staircase. A crazy old
staircase I found it to be, feebly lighted on each landing by a
club- headed little oil wick, dying away in a little dungeon of
dirty glass.
In the course of my stumbling upstairs, I fancied I heard a pleasant
sound of laughter; and not the laughter of an attorney or barrister,
or attorney's clerk or barrister's clerk, but of two or three merry
girls. Happening, however, as I stopped to listen, to put my foot
in a hole where the Honourable Society of Gray's Inn had left a
plank deficient, I fell down with some noise, and when I recovered
my footing all was silent.
Groping my way more carefully, for the rest of the journey, my
heart beat high when I found the outer door, which had Mr. TRADDLES
painted on it, open. I knocked. A considerable scuffling within
ensued, but nothing else. I therefore knocked again.
A small sharp-looking lad, half-footboy and half-clerk, who was
very much out of breath, but who looked at me as if he defied me
to prove it legally, presented himself.
'Is Mr. Traddles within?' I said.
'Yes, sir, but he's engaged.'
'I want to see him.'
After a moment's survey of me, the sharp-looking lad decided
to let me in; and opening the door wider for that purpose, admitted
me, first, into a little closet of a hall, and next into a little
sitting-room; where I came into the presence of my old friend (also
out of breath), seated at a table, and bending over papers.
'Good God!' cried Traddles, looking up. 'It's Copperfield!' and
rushed into my arms, where I held him tight.
'All well, my dear Traddles?'
'All well, my dear, dear Copperfield, and nothing but good news!'
We cried with pleasure, both of us.
'My dear fellow,' said Traddles, rumpling his hair in his excitement,
which was a most unnecessary operation, 'my dearest Copperfield,
my long-lost and most welcome friend, how glad I am to see you!
How brown you are! How glad I am! Upon my life and honour, I never
was so rejoiced, my beloved Copperfield, never!'
I was equally at a loss to express my emotions. I was quite unable
to speak, at first.
'My dear fellow!' said Traddles. 'And grown so famous! My glorious
Copperfield! Good gracious me, WHEN did you come, WHERE have you
come from, WHAT have you been doing?'
Never pausing for an answer to anything he said, Traddles, who
had clapped me into an easy-chair by the fire, all this time impetuously
stirred the fire with one hand, and pulled at my neck-kerchief with
the other, under some wild delusion that it was a great-coat. Without
putting down the poker, he now hugged me again; and I hugged him;
and, both laughing, and both wiping our eyes, we both sat down,
and shook hands across the hearth.
'To think,' said Traddles, 'that you should have been so nearly
coming home as you must have been, my dear old boy, and not at the
ceremony!'
'What ceremony, my dear Traddles?'
'Good gracious me!' cried Traddles, opening his eyes in his old
way. 'Didn't you get my last letter?'
'Certainly not, if it referred to any ceremony.'
'Why, my dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, sticking his hair
upright with both hands, and then putting his hands on my knees,
'I am married!'
'Married!' I cried joyfully.
'Lord bless me, yes,!' said Traddles - 'by the Reverend Horace
- to Sophy - down in Devonshire. Why, my dear boy, she's behind
the window curtain! Look here!'
To my amazement, the dearest girl in the world came at that same
instant, laughing and blushing, from her place of concealment. And
a more cheerful, amiable, honest, happy, bright-looking bride, I
believe (as I could not help saying on the spot) the world never
saw. I kissed her as an old acquaintance should, and wished them
joy with all my might of heart.
'Dear me,' said Traddles, 'what a delightful re-union this is!
You are so extremely brown, my dear Copperfield! God bless my soul,
how happy I am!'
'And so am I,' said I.
'And I am sure I am!' said the blushing and laughing Sophy.
'We are all as happy as possible!' said Traddles. 'Even the girls
are happy. Dear me, I declare I forgot them!'
'Forgot?' said I.
'The girls,' said Traddles. 'Sophy's sisters. They are staying
with us. They have come to have a peep at London. The fact is, when
- was it you that tumbled upstairs, Copperfield?'
'It was,' said I, laughing.
'Well then, when you tumbled upstairs,' said Traddles, 'I was
romping with the girls. In point of fact, we were playing at Puss
in the Corner. But as that wouldn't do in Westminster Hall, and
as it wouldn't look quite professional if they were seen by a client,
they decamped. And they are now - listening, I have no doubt,' said
Traddles, glancing at the door of another room.
'I am sorry,' said I, laughing afresh, 'to have occasioned such
a dispersion.'
'Upon my word,' rejoined Traddles, greatly delighted, 'if you
had seen them running away, and running back again, after you had
knocked, to pick up the combs they had dropped out of their hair,
and going on in the maddest manner, you wouldn't have said so. My
love, will you fetch the girls?'
Sophy tripped away, and we heard her received in the adjoining
room with a peal of laughter.
'Really musical, isn't it, my dear Copperfield?' said Traddles.
'It's very agreeable to hear. It quite lights up these old rooms.
To an unfortunate bachelor of a fellow who has lived alone all his
life, you know, it's positively delicious. It's charming. Poor things,
they have had a great loss in Sophy - who, I do assure you, Copperfield
is, and ever was, the dearest girl! - and it gratifies me beyond
expression to find them in such good spirits. The society of girls
is a very delightful thing, Copperfield. It's not professional,
but it's very delightful.'
Observing that he slightly faltered, and comprehending that in
the goodness of his heart he was fearful of giving me some pain
by what he had said, I expressed my concurrence with a heartiness
that evidently relieved and pleased him greatly.
'But then,' said Traddles, 'our domestic arrangements are, to
say the truth, quite unprofessional altogether, my dear Copperfield.
Even Sophy's being here, is unprofessional. And we have no other
place of abode. We have put to sea in a cockboat, but we are quite
prepared to rough it. And Sophy's an extraordinary manager! You'll
be surprised how those girls are stowed away. I am sure I hardly
know how it's done!'
'Are many of the young ladies with you?' I inquired.
'The eldest, the Beauty is here,' said Traddles, in a low confidential
voice, 'Caroline. And Sarah's here - the one I mentioned to you
as having something the matter with her spine, you know. Immensely
better! And the two youngest that Sophy educated are with us. And
Louisa's here.'
'Indeed!' cried I.
'Yes,' said Traddles. 'Now the whole set - I mean the chambers
- is only three rooms; but Sophy arranges for the girls in the most
wonderful way, and they sleep as comfortably as possible. Three
in that room,' said Traddles, pointing. 'Two in that.'
I could not help glancing round, in search of the accommodation
remaining for Mr. and Mrs. Traddles. Traddles understood me.
'Well!' said Traddles, 'we are prepared to rough it, as I said
just now, and we did improvise a bed last week, upon the floor here.
But there's a little room in the roof - a very nice room, when you're
up there - which Sophy papered herself, to surprise me; and that's
our room at present. It's a capital little gipsy sort of place.
There's quite a view from it.'
'And you are happily married at last, my dear Traddles!' said
I. 'How rejoiced I am!'
'Thank you, my dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, as we shook
hands once more. 'Yes, I am as happy as it's possible to be. There's
your old friend, you see,' said Traddles, nodding triumphantly at
the flower-pot and stand; 'and there's the table with the marble
top! All the other furniture is plain and serviceable, you perceive.
And as to plate, Lord bless you, we haven't so much as a tea-spoon.'
'All to be earned?' said I, cheerfully.
'Exactly so,' replied Traddles, 'all to be earned. Of course
we have something in the shape of tea-spoons, because we stir our
tea. But they're Britannia metal."
'The silver will be the brighter when it comes,' said I.
'The very thing we say!' cried Traddles. 'You see, my dear Copperfield,'
falling again into the low confidential tone, 'after I had delivered
my argument in DOE dem. JIPES versus WIGZIELL, which did me great
service with the profession, I went down into Devonshire, and had
some serious conversation in private with the Reverend Horace. I
dwelt upon the fact that Sophy - who I do assure you, Copperfield,
is the dearest girl! -'
'I am certain she is!' said I.
'She is, indeed!' rejoined Traddles. 'But I am afraid I am wandering
from the subject. Did I mention the Reverend Horace?'
'You said that you dwelt upon the fact -'
'True! Upon the fact that Sophy and I had been engaged for a
long period, and that Sophy, with the permission of her parents,
was more than content to take me - in short,' said Traddles, with
his old frank smile, 'on our present Britannia-metal footing. Very
well. I then proposed to the Reverend Horace - who is a most excellent
clergyman, Copperfield, and ought to be a Bishop; or at least ought
to have enough to live upon, without pinching himself - that if
I could turn the corner, say of two hundred and fifty pounds, in
one year; and could see my way pretty clearly to that, or something
better, next year; and could plainly furnish a little place like
this, besides; then, and in that case, Sophy and I should be united.
I took the liberty of representing that we had been patient for
a good many years; and that the circumstance of Sophy's being extraordinarily
useful at home, ought not to operate with her affectionate parents,
against her establishment in life - don't you see?'
'Certainly it ought not,' said I.
'I am glad you think so, Copperfield,' rejoined Traddles, 'because,
without any imputation on the Reverend Horace, I do think parents,
and brothers, and so forth, are sometimes rather selfish in such
cases. Well! I also pointed out, that my most earnest desire was,
to be useful to the family; and that if I got on in the world, and
anything should happen to him - I refer to the Reverend Horace -'
'I understand,' said I.
'- Or to Mrs. Crewler - it would be the utmost gratification
of my wishes, to be a parent to the girls. He replied in a most
admirable manner, exceedingly flattering to my feelings, and undertook
to obtain the consent of Mrs. Crewler to this arrangement. They
had a dreadful time of it with her. It mounted from her legs into
her chest, and then into her head -'
'What mounted?' I asked.
'Her grief,' replied Traddles, with a serious look. 'Her feelings
generally. As I mentioned on a former occasion, she is a very superior
woman, but has lost the use of her limbs. Whatever occurs to harass
her, usually settles in her legs; but on this occasion it mounted
to the chest, and then to the head, and, in short, pervaded the
whole system in a most alarming manner. However, they brought her
through it by unremitting and affectionate attention; and we were
married yesterday six weeks. You have no idea what a Monster I felt,
Copperfield, when I saw the whole family crying and fainting away
in every direction! Mrs. Crewler couldn't see me before we left
- couldn't forgive me, then, for depriving her of her child - but
she is a good creature, and has done so since. I had a delightful
letter from her, only this morning.'
'And in short, my dear friend,' said I, 'you feel as blest as
you deserve to feel!'
'Oh! That's your partiality!' laughed Traddles. 'But, indeed,
I am in a most enviable state. I work hard, and read Law insatiably.
I get up at five every morning, and don't mind it at all. I hide
the girls in the daytime, and make merry with them in the evening.
And I assure you I am quite sorry that they are going home on Tuesday,
which is the day before the first day of Michaelmas Term. But here,'
said Traddles, breaking off in his confidence, and speaking aloud,
'ARE the girls! Mr. Copperfield, Miss Crewler - Miss Sarah - Miss
Louisa - Margaret and Lucy!'
They were a perfect nest of roses; they looked so wholesome and
fresh. They were all pretty, and Miss Caroline was very handsome;
but there was a loving, cheerful, fireside quality in Sophy's bright
looks, which was better than that, and which assured me that my
friend had chosen well. We all sat round the fire; while the sharp
boy, who I now divined had lost his breath in putting the papers
out, cleared them away again, and produced the tea-things. After
that, he retired for the night, shutting the outer door upon us
with a bang. Mrs. Traddles, with perfect pleasure and composure
beaming from her household eyes, having made the tea, then quietly
made the toast as she sat in a corner by the fire.
She had seen Agnes, she told me while she was toasting. 'Tom'
had taken her down into Kent for a wedding trip, and there she had
seen my aunt, too; and both my aunt and Agnes were well, and they
had all talked of nothing but me. 'Tom' had never had me out of
his thoughts, she really believed, all the time I had been away.
'Tom' was the authority for everything. 'Tom' was evidently the
idol of her life; never to be shaken on his pedestal by any commotion;
always to be believed in, and done homage to with the whole faith
of her heart, come what might.
The deference which both she and Traddles showed towards the
Beauty, pleased me very much. I don't know that I thought it very
reasonable; but I thought it very delightful, and essentially a
part of their character. If Traddles ever for an instant missed
the tea-spoons that were still to be won, I have no doubt it was
when he handed the Beauty her tea. If his sweet-tempered wife could
have got up any self-assertion against anyone, I am satisfied it
could only have been because she was the Beauty's sister. A few
slight indications of a rather petted and capricious manner, which
I observed in the Beauty, were manifestly considered, by Traddles
and his wife, as her birthright and natural endowment. If she had
been born a Queen Bee, and they labouring Bees, they could not have
been more satisfied of that.
But their self-forgetfulness charmed me. Their pride in these
girls, and their submission of themselves to all their whims, was
the pleasantest little testimony to their own worth I could have
desired to see. If Traddles were addressed as 'a darling', once
in the course of that evening; and besought to bring something here,
or carry something there, or take something up, or put something
down, or find something, or fetch something, he was so addressed,
by one or other of his sisters-in-law, at least twelve times in
an hour. Neither could they do anything without Sophy. Somebody's
hair fell down, and nobody but Sophy could put it up. Somebody forgot
how a particular tune went, and nobody but Sophy could hum that
tune right. Somebody wanted to recall the name of a place in Devonshire,
and only Sophy knew it. Something was wanted to be written home,
and Sophy alone could be trusted to write before breakfast in the
morning. Somebody broke down in a piece of knitting, and no one
but Sophy was able to put the defaulter in the right direction.
They were entire mistresses of the place, and Sophy and Traddles
waited on them. How many children Sophy could have taken care of
in her time, I can't imagine; but she seemed to be famous for knowing
every sort of song that ever was addressed to a child in the English
tongue; and she sang dozens to order with the clearest little voice
in the world, one after another (every sister issuing directions
for a different tune, and the Beauty generally striking in last),
so that I was quite fascinated. The best of all was, that, in the
midst of their exactions, all the sisters had a great tenderness
and respect both for Sophy and Traddles. I am sure, when I took
my leave, and Traddles was coming out to walk with me to the coffee-house,
I thought I had never seen an obstinate head of hair, or any other
head of hair, rolling about in such a shower of kisses.
Altogether, it was a scene I could not help dwelling on with
pleasure, for a long time after I got back and had wished Traddles
good night. If I had beheld a thousand roses blowing in a top set
of chambers, in that withered Gray's Inn, they could not have brightened
it half so much. The idea of those Devonshire girls, among the dry
law-stationers and the attorneys' offices; and of the tea and toast,
and children's songs, in that grim atmosphere of pounce and parchment,
red-tape, dusty wafers, ink-jars, brief and draft paper, law reports,
writs, declarations, and bills of costs; seemed almost as pleasantly
fanciful as if I had dreamed that the Sultan's famous family had
been admitted on the roll of attorneys, and had brought the talking
bird, the singing tree, and the golden water into Gray's Inn Hall.
Somehow, I found that I had taken leave of Traddles for the night,
and come back to the coffee-house, with a great change in my despondency
about him. I began to think he would get on, in spite of all the
many orders of chief waiters in England.
Drawing a chair before one of the coffee-room fires to think
about him at my leisure, I gradually fell from the consideration
of his happiness to tracing prospects in the live-coals, and to
thinking, as they broke and changed, of the principal vicissitudes
and separations that had marked my life. I had not seen a coal fire,
since I had left England three years ago: though many a wood fire
had I watched, as it crumbled into hoary ashes, and mingled with
the feathery heap upon the hearth, which not inaptly figured to
me, in my despondency, my own dead hopes.
I could think of the past now, gravely, but not bitterly; and
could contemplate the future in a brave spirit. Home, in its best
sense, was for me no more. She in whom I might have inspired a dearer
love, I had taught to be my sister. She would marry, and would have
new claimants on her tenderness; and in doing it, would never know
the love for her that had grown up in my heart. It was right that
I should pay the forfeit of my headlong passion. What I reaped,
I had sown.
I was thinking. And had I truly disciplined my heart to this,
and could I resolutely bear it, and calmly hold the place in her
home which she had calmly held in mine, - when I found my eyes resting
on a countenance that might have arisen out of the fire, in its
association with my early remembrances.
Little Mr. Chillip the Doctor, to whose good offices I was indebted
in the very first chapter of this history, sat reading a newspaper
in the shadow of an opposite corner. He was tolerably stricken in
years by this time; but, being a mild, meek, calm little man, had
worn so easily, that I thought he looked at that moment just as
he might have looked when he sat in our parlour, waiting for me
to be born.
Mr. Chillip had left Blunderstone six or seven years ago, and
I had never seen him since. He sat placidly perusing the newspaper,
with his little head on one side, and a glass of warm sherry negus
at his elbow. He was so extremely conciliatory in his manner that
he seemed to apologize to the very newspaper for taking the liberty
of reading it.
I walked up to where he was sitting, and said, 'How do you do,
Mr. Chillip?'
He was greatly fluttered by this unexpected address from a stranger,
and replied, in his slow way, 'I thank you, sir, you are very good.
Thank you, sir. I hope YOU are well.'
'You don't remember me?' said I.
'Well, sir,' returned Mr. Chillip, smiling very meekly, and shaking
his head as he surveyed me, 'I have a kind of an impression that
something in your countenance is familiar to me, sir; but I couldn't
lay my hand upon your name, really.'
'And yet you knew it, long before I knew it myself,' I returned.
'Did I indeed, sir?' said Mr. Chillip. 'Is it possible that I
had the honour, sir, of officiating when -?'
'Yes,' said I.
'Dear me!' cried Mr. Chillip. 'But no doubt you are a good deal
changed since then, sir?'
'Probably,' said I.
'Well, sir,' observed Mr. Chillip, 'I hope you'll excuse me,
if I am compelled to ask the favour of your name?'
On my telling him my name, he was really moved. He quite shook
hands with me - which was a violent proceeding for him, his usual
course being to slide a tepid little fish-slice, an inch or two
in advance of his hip, and evince the greatest discomposure when
anybody grappled with it. Even now, he put his hand in his coat-pocket
as soon as he could disengage it, and seemed relieved when he had
got it safe back.
'Dear me, sir!' said Mr. Chillip, surveying me with his head
on one side. 'And it's Mr. Copperfield, is it? Well, sir, I think
I should have known you, if I had taken the liberty of looking more
closely at you. There's a strong resemblance between you and your
poor father, sir.'
'I never had the happiness of seeing my father,' I observed.
'Very true, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, in a soothing tone. 'And
very much to be deplored it was, on all accounts! We are not ignorant,
sir,' said Mr. Chillip, slowly shaking his little head again, 'down
in our part of the country, of your fame. There must be great excitement
here, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, tapping himself on the forehead with
his forefinger. 'You must find it a trying occupation, sir!'
'What is your part of the country now?' I asked, seating myself
near him.
'I am established within a few miles of Bury St. Edmund's, sir,'
said Mr. Chillip. 'Mrs. Chillip, coming into a little property in
that neighbourhood, under her father's will, I bought a practice
down there, in which you will be glad to hear I am doing well. My
daughter is growing quite a tall lass now, sir,' said Mr. Chillip,
giving his little head another little shake. 'Her mother let down
two tucks in her frocks only last week. Such is time, you see, sir!'
As the little man put his now empty glass to his lips, when he
made this reflection, I proposed to him to have it refilled, and
I would keep him company with another. 'Well, sir,' he returned,
in his slow way, 'it's more than I am accustomed to; but I can't
deny myself the pleasure of your conversation. It seems but yesterday
that I had the honour of attending you in the measles. You came
through them charmingly, sir!'
I acknowledged this compliment, and ordered the negus, which
was soon produced. 'Quite an uncommon dissipation!' said Mr. Chillip,
stirring it, 'but I can't resist so extraordinary an occasion. You
have no family, sir?'
I shook my head.
'I was aware that you sustained a bereavement, sir, some time
ago,' said Mr. Chillip. 'I heard it from your father-in-law's sister.
Very decided character there, sir?'
'Why, yes,' said I, 'decided enough. Where did you see her, Mr.
Chillip?'
'Are you not aware, sir,' returned Mr. Chillip, with his placidest
smile, 'that your father-in-law is again a neighbour of mine?'
'No,' said I.
'He is indeed, sir!' said Mr. Chillip. 'Married a young lady
of that part, with a very good little property, poor thing. - And
this action of the brain now, sir? Don't you find it fatigue you?'
said Mr. Chillip, looking at me like an admiring Robin.
I waived that question, and returned to the Murdstones. 'I was
aware of his being married again. Do you attend the family?' I asked.
'Not regularly. I have been called in,' he replied. 'Strong phrenological
developments of the organ of firmness, in Mr. Murdstone and his
sister, sir.' I replied with such an expressive look, that Mr. Chillip
was emboldened by that, and the negus together, to give his head
several short shakes, and thoughtfully exclaim, 'Ah, dear me! We
remember old times, Mr. Copperfield!'
'And the brother and sister are pursuing their old course, are
they?' said I.
'Well, sir,' replied Mr. Chillip, 'a medical man, being so much
in families, ought to have neither eyes nor ears for anything but
his profession. Still, I must say, they are very severe, sir: both
as to this life and the next.'
'The next will be regulated without much reference to them, I
dare say,' I returned: 'what are they doing as to this?'
Mr. Chillip shook his head, stirred his negus, and sipped it.
'She was a charming woman, sir!' he observed in a plaintive manner.
'The present Mrs. Murdstone?'
A charming woman indeed, sir,' said Mr. Chillip; 'as amiable,
I am sure, as it was possible to be! Mrs. Chillip's opinion is,
that her spirit has been entirely broken since her marriage, and
that she is all but melancholy mad. And the ladies,' observed Mr.
Chillip, timorously, 'are great observers, sir.'
'I suppose she was to be subdued and broken to their detestable
mould, Heaven help her!' said I. 'And she has been.'
'Well, sir, there were violent quarrels at first, I assure you,'
said Mr. Chillip; 'but she is quite a shadow now. Would it be considered
forward if I was to say to you, sir, in confidence, that since the
sister came to help, the brother and sister between them have nearly
reduced her to a state of imbecility?'
I told him I could easily believe it.
'I have no hesitation in saying,' said Mr. Chillip, fortifying
himself with another sip of negus, 'between you and me, sir, that
her mother died of it - or that tyranny, gloom, and worry have made
Mrs. Murdstone nearly imbecile. She was a lively young woman, sir,
before marriage, and their gloom and austerity destroyed her. They
go about with her, now, more like her keepers than her husband and
sister-in-law. That was Mrs. Chillip's remark to me, only last week.
And I assure you, sir, the ladies are great observers. Mrs. Chillip
herself is a great observer!'
'Does he gloomily profess to be (I am ashamed to use the word
in such association) religious still?' I inquired.
'You anticipate, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, his eyelids getting
quite red with the unwonted stimulus in which he was indulging.
'One of Mrs. Chillip's most impressive remarks. Mrs. Chillip,' he
proceeded, in the calmest and slowest manner, 'quite electrified
me, by pointing out that Mr. Murdstone sets up an image of himself,
and calls it the Divine Nature. You might have knocked me down on
the flat of my back, sir, with the feather of a pen, I assure you,
when Mrs. Chillip said so. The ladies are great observers, sir?'
'Intuitively,' said I, to his extreme delight.
'I am very happy to receive such support in my opinion, sir,'
he rejoined. 'It is not often that I venture to give a non-medical
opinion, I assure you. Mr. Murdstone delivers public addresses sometimes,
and it is said, - in short, sir, it is said by Mrs. Chillip, - that
the darker tyrant he has lately been, the more ferocious is his
doctrine.'
'I believe Mrs. Chillip to be perfectly right,' said I.
'Mrs. Chillip does go so far as to say,' pursued the meekest
of little men, much encouraged, 'that what such people miscall their
religion, is a vent for their bad humours and arrogance. And do
you know I must say, sir,' he continued, mildly laying his head
on one side, 'that I DON'T find authority for Mr. and Miss Murdstone
in the New Testament?'
'I never found it either!' said I.
'In the meantime, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, 'they are much disliked;
and as they are very free in consigning everybody who dislikes them
to perdition, we really have a good deal of perdition going on in
our neighbourhood! However, as Mrs. Chillip says, sir, they undergo
a continual punishment; for they are turned inward, to feed upon
their own hearts, and their own hearts are very bad feeding. Now,
sir, about that brain of yours, if you'll excuse my returning to
it. Don't you expose it to a good deal of excitement, sir?'
I found it not difficult, in the excitement of Mr. Chillip's
own brain, under his potations of negus, to divert his attention
from this topic to his own affairs, on which, for the next half-hour,
he was quite loquacious; giving me to understand, among other pieces
of information, that he was then at the Gray's Inn Coffee-house
to lay his professional evidence before a Commission of Lunacy,
touching the state of mind of a patient who had become deranged
from excessive drinking. 'And I assure you, sir,' he said, 'I am
extremely nervous on such occasions. I could not support being what
is called Bullied, sir. It would quite unman me. Do you know it
was some time before I recovered the conduct of that alarming lady,
on the night of your birth, Mr. Copperfield?'
I told him that I was going down to my aunt, the Dragon of that
night, early in the morning; and that she was one of the most tender-hearted
and excellent of women, as he would know full well if he knew her
better. The mere notion of the possibility of his ever seeing her
again, appeared to terrify him. He replied with a small pale smile,
'Is she so, indeed, sir? Really?' and almost immediately called
for a candle, and went to bed, as if he were not quite safe anywhere
else. He did not actually stagger under the negus; but I should
think his placid little pulse must have made two or three more beats
in a minute, than it had done since the great night of my aunt's
disappointment, when she struck at him with her bonnet.
Thoroughly tired, I went to bed too, at midnight; passed the
next day on the Dover coach; burst safe and sound into my aunt's
old parlour while she was at tea (she wore spectacles now); and
was received by her, and Mr. Dick, and dear old Peggotty, who acted
as housekeeper, with open arms and tears of joy. My aunt was mightily
amused, when we began to talk composedly, by my account of my meeting
with Mr. Chillip, and of his holding her in such dread remembrance;
and both she and Peggotty had a great deal to say about my poor
mother's second husband, and 'that murdering woman of a sister',
- on whom I think no pain or penalty would have induced my aunt
to bestow any Christian or Proper Name, or any other designation.
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