36. CHARLES DICKENS: DAVID COPPERFIELD: CHAPTER 36 ENTHUSIASM

Another dive into the Roman Bath, next day, and then I started for Highgate. I was in high spirits.  I am not afraid of shabby coat, and no yearning after gallant Grey's.  My whole manner of thinking about my late misfortune was changed.  I had to show my aunt that her past goodness to me had not been thrown away because of my love of Dora.  What I had to do, was to turn the painful discipline of my younger days to account, by going to work with a resolute and steady heart.  I had to clear my own way through the forest of difficulty, by cutting down the trees till I came to Dora.  And I went on at a mighty rate, as if it could be done by walking.

When I found myself on the familiar Highgate road, pursuing such a different errand from the old one of pleasure, with which it was associated, it seemed as if a complete change had come on my whole life.  But that did not discourage me.  With the new life came a new purpose, new intention.  Great was the labour, and priceless was the reward.  Dora was the reward, and Dora must be won.

I got into such a transport, that I felt quite sorry, my coat was not a little shabby already.  I wanted to be cutting at those trees in the forest of difficulty, under circumstances that should prove my strength.  I had a good mind to ask an old man, in wire spectacles, who was breaking stones upon the road to lend me his hammer for a little while, and let me begin to beat a path to Dora out of granite.  I stimulated myself into such a heat, and got so out of breath, that I felt as if I had been earning I don't know how much.  

In this state, I went into a cottage that I saw was to let, and examined it narrowly - for I felt it necessary to be practical.  It would do for me and Dora: with a little front garden for Jip to run about in, and bark at people through the railings, and a capital room upstairs for my aunt.  I came out again, hotter and faster than ever, and dashed upto Highgate, at such a rate that I was there an hour too early, that I had been obliged to stroll about to cool myself.

My first case was to find out Doctor Strong's house.  It is not that part of Highgate where Mrs Steerforth lived, but quite on the opposite side of the little town.  When I had made this discovery, I went back, in an attraction I could not resist, to a lane by Mrs Steerforth's, and looked over the corner of garden wall.  His room was shut up close.  The conservatory doors were standing open, and Miss Rosa Dartle was walking bare headed, with a quick, impetuous step up and down the gravel walk on one side of the lawn.  She gave me the idea of a fierce thing, that was dragging its length of chain to and fro upon a beaten track, and wearing it heart out.

I came softly away, wishing I had not gone near it, strolled about until it was ten o'clock.  The church with the slender spire, that stood on the top of the hill was not there.  In its place was an school 

When I approached the Doctor's cottage, I saw him walking in the garden.  The cottage underwent certain repairs and renovation.  There were plenty of high trees in the neighborhood, two or three rooks were on the grass looking at him.

As I could not attract his attention from a distance, I opened the gate and walked after him, so as to meet him when he turns round.  When he did and came towards me, he looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, as he recognised me, his face expressed extraordinary pleasure, and he took me by both hands.

'Why, my dear Copperfield,' said the Doctor, 'you are a man!' How do you do? I am delighted to see you.  My dear Copperfield, how very much you have improved!  You are quite - yes - dear me!

I hoped he was well, and Mrs Strong too.

'Oh, dear, yes!' said the Doctor, 'Annie is quite well, and she'll be delighted to see you.  You are always her favourite.  She said so, last night, when I showed her your letter.  And - yes, to be sure - you recollect Mr Jack Maldon, Copperfield?'

'Perfectly, sir.'

'Of course, said the doctor.  To be sure.  He's pretty well too.'

'Has he come home, sir,' I inquired.

'From India?' said the Doctor.  'Yes, Jack Maldon couldn't bear the climate, my dear.  Mrs. Markleham - you have not forgotten Mrs Markleham?

Forgotten the Old Soldier!  And in that short time!

'Mrs Markleham,' said the Doctor 'was quite vexed about him, poor thing; so we have got him at home again; and we have bought him a little Patent place, which agrees with him much better.'  I knew enough of Mr Jack Maldon to suspect from this account that it was a place where was not much to do, and which was pretty well paid.  The Doctor walking up and down with his hand on my shoulder, and his kind face encouraging to mine, went on: 

'Now, my dear Copperfield, in reference to this proposal of yours, it is very gratifying and agreeable to me, I am sure; but don't you think you could do better?  You achieved distinction, you know, when you were with us.  You are qualified for many good things.  You have laid a foundation that any edifice may be raised upon; is it not pity that you should devote the spring-time of your life to such a poor pursuit as I can offer?

I became very glowing again, and expressing myself in a rhapsodic style, I am afraid, urged my request strongly; reminding the Doctor that I had already a profession.

'Well, well,' said the Doctor, 'that's true, certainly, your having a profession, and being actually engaged in studying makes a difference.  But, my good young friend, what's seventy pounds a year?

'It doubles our income, Doctor Strong,' said I.

'Dear me!' replied the Doctor.  'To think of that!  Not that I mean to say it's rigidly limited to seventy pounds a year because I have always contemplated making any young friend I might employ, a present too.  Undoubtedly,' said the Doctor, still walking me up and down with his hand upon my shoulder.  'I have taken an annual present into account.'

'My dear tutor,' said I, to whom I owe more obligations already than I ever can acknowledge -'

'No, no,' interposed the Doctor.  'Pardon me.'

'If you will take such time as I have, and that is my mornings and evenings, and can think it worth seventy pounds a year you will do me such a service as I cannot express.'

'Dear me!' said the Doctor innocently.  'To think that so little should go for so much! Dear, dear!  And when you can do better you will? On your word now,' said the Doctor, - which appeal he had always made to  honour us boys.

'On my word, sir,' I returned, answering in our old school manner.

'Then be it so,' said the Doctor, clapping me on the shoulder, and still keeping his hand there, as we still walked up and down.

'And I shall be twenty times happier, sir,' said I, with a little - I hope innocent - flattery, 'if my employment is to be on the Dictionery.'

The Doctor stopped, smiling, clapped me on the shoulder again, and exclaimed, with a triumph most delightful to behold, as if I had penetrated to profound depth of moral sagacity.  'My dear young friend, you have hit it, it is the dictionary.'

How could it be anything else!  His pockets were as full of it as his head.  It was sticking out of him in all    directions.  He told me that since his  retirement from scholastic life, he had    been advancing with it wonderfully,    and that nothing could suit him better  than the proposed arrangement for  morning and evening as it was his  custom to walk in day time.  Jack  Maldon had offered occasional services,  but he was not accustomed to that kind    of service. This had created some  confusion to Doctor Strong.  But we should put right what amiss. Later we found Jack Maldon's efforts were troublesome to me than I had expected.  He had made numerous mistakes. More over, he had drawn sketches of soldiers and lady's heads on the manuscript of the dictionary.  The Doctor was happy of the prospect of our going to work together and we settled to begin next morning at seven o'clock.  We were to work two or three hours every night, except on Saturdays and Sundays.

The Doctor took me to his house.  Mrs Strong was in the new study, dusting his books, which he never permitted to anybody else.

They had postponed the breakfast on my account, and we sat down to table together.  There arrived a gentleman on horseback to the gate, leading his horse to the little court, with the bridle over his arm, as if he were quite at home, tied the horse to a ring in the empty coach house wall, came into the breakfast parlour, whip in hand.  It was Jack Maldon.  I thought he was not at all improved by India, and I compared my situation with that of him, and satisfied myself.

'Mr Jack!' said the Doctor, 'Copperfield!' 

Mr Jack Maldon shook hands with me, but not very warmly, and with an air of languid patronage, at which I secretly took umbrage.  But his languor was altogether a wonderful sight, except when he addressed himself to his cousin Annie. 

'Have you breakfasted this morning, Mr Jack?' said the Doctor.

'I hardly ever take breakfast, sir,' he replied, with his head thrown back in an easy-chair.  'I find it bores me.'

'Is there any news today?' inquired the Doctor.

'Nothing at all, sir,' replied Maldon.  'There is an account about people being hungry and discontent down in North, but they are always being hungry and discontent somewhere.

The Doctor looked grave, and said, as though he wished to change the subject.  'Then there is no news at all, and no news, they say is good news.'

'There's a long statement in the papers, sir, about murder,' observed Mr Maldon.  'But somebody is always being murdered, and I didn't read it.'

A display of indifference to all the actions and passions of mankind was not supposed to be such a distinguished quality at that time, I think, as I have considered it to be since.  I have known it very fashionable indeed.  I have seen it displayed with such success, that I have encountered some fine ladies and gentlemen who might as well have been born caterpillars.  Perhaps it impressed me the more then, because it was new to me, but it did not tend to exalt my opinion of, or strengthen my confidence in, Mr Jack Maldon.

'I came to inquire whether Annie would like to go to opera tonight,' said Mr Maldon, turning to her.  'It's the last good night there will be this season; and there is a singer there, whom she really ought to hear.  She is perfectly exquisite, besides which, she is so charming ugly,' he relapsed into a languor.

The Doctor ever pleased with what was likely to please his young wife, turned to her and said, 'You must go, Annie.  You must go.'

'I would rather not.' she said to the Doctor.  'I prefer to remain at home.  I would much rather remain at home.' 

Without looking at her cousin, she then addressed me, and asked me about Agnes, and whether she should see her, and whether she was not likely to come that day; and was so much disturbed, that I wondered how even the Doctor, buttering his toast, could be blind to what was obvious.

But he saw nothing.  He told her good natured, that she was young and ought to be amused and entertained, and must not allow herself to be made dull by a dull old fellow.  Moreover, he said, he wanted to hear her sing all the new singer's song to him, and how could she do that well, unless she went.  So the Doctor persisted in making the engagement for her, and Mr Jack Maldon was to come back to dinner.  This concluded, he went to his Patent place, I suppose, but all the events went away on his horse looking very idle.

I was curious to find out next morning, whether she had been.  She had not, but had sent into London to put her cousin off, and had gone out in the afternoon to see Agnes, and had prevailed upon the Doctor to go with her, and they had walked home by the fields, the doctor told me the evening being thoughtful.  I wondered then whether she would have gone if Agnes had not been in the town, and whether Agnes had some good influence over her too!

She did not look very happy, but her's was a happy face, or a very false one.  I often glanced at her as she sat in the window all the time we were at work.  She made our breakfast, which we took by snatches while we work.  When I left at nine o'clock, she was kneeling on the ground at Doctor's feet, putting on his shoes and gaiters for him.  There was a softened shade upon her face, thrown by the green leaves overhanging the open window of the low room, and I thought, all the way to Doctor Commons, of the night when I had seen her looking at him as he read.

I was pretty busy now, up at five in the morning, at home at nine or ten in the night.  But I had infinite satisfaction in being so engaged.  I had not revealed myself in my altered situation to Dora, because she was  coming to see Miss Mills in a few days. In the mean time I put myself on a short allowance of bear's grease, wholly abandoned scented soap and lavender water, and sold three waistcoats as being too luxurious for my career.

Not satisfied with these proceedings, I went to see Traddles, now lodging up behind the parapet of a house in Castle Street, Holborn.  Mr Dick who had been with me to Highgate twice, and had resumed his companionship with the Doctor, I took with me.

Mr Dick was acutely sensitive of my aunt's reverses. He also knew that I worked as a galley-slave or a convict.  Having nothing useful to do in my absence he had begun to fret and fume.  Moreover he was incapable of finishing the Memorial.  Harder he worked at it, that unlucky head of King Charles the First got into it.  I took him to give him a temporary relief from these worries.  I wrote to Traddles describing Dick's worries and sought some solutions.  Traddles wrote me back expressing his sympathy and friendship.

We found him hard at work with his ink-stand and papers refreshed by the sight of the flower-pot stand and the little round table in a corner of the small apartment.  He received us cordially and made friends with Mr Dick in a moment.  Mr Dick professed an absolute certainty of having seen him before, and we both said very likely.

The first subject I had to consult with Traddles was this - Many distinguished men started their careers as reporters of debates in parliament.  I wished to know how I could qualify for this job.  Whether news papers would give me an opening.  Short-hand writing and reading, and the mastery of languages was essential to the job.  Traddles was concerned with the nuances of the profession.  But I was concerned more with a way to approach Dora.

'I am very much obliged to you my dear Traddles!' said I.  I'll begin tomorrow.' 

Traddles looked astonished, but he was not aware of my rapturous condition.

'I will buy a book,' said I, 'with a good scheme of this art in it.  I will work at it at the Commons, where I haven't half enough to do.  I will take down the speeches in our court for practice - Traddles, my dear fellow, I will master it.'

'Dear me,' said Traddles opening his eyes, 'I had no idea you were such a determined character, Copperfield!' 

I don't know how he should have had, for it was new enough to me.  I passed that off, and brought Mr Dick on the carpet. 

'You see,' said Mr Dick wistfully, 'If I could exert myself Mr Traddles - if I could beat a drum - or blow anything!'

Poor fellow! I have little doubt he would have performed such an employment in his heart to all others.  Traddles, who would not have smiled for the world, replied composed.

'But you are a very good pen man sir, you told me so, Copperfield?'

'Excellent!' said I.  And indeed he was.  He wrote with extraordinary neatness.

'Don't you think,' said Traddles 'you could copy writings, sir, if I got them for you?'

Mr Dick looked doubtful at me. 'Eh Trotwood?'

I explained to Traddles that there was difficulty in keeping King Charles the First out Mr Dick's manuscripts; Mr Dick in the meanwhile looking very deferentially and seriously at Traddles, and sucking his thumb.

'But these writings, you know, that I speak of, are already drawn up and finished,' said Traddles after a little consideration.  Mr Dick has nothing to do with them.  Wouldn't that make a difference, Copperfield?' Wouldn't it be well to try?'

This gave us new hope.  Traddles and I laying out our heads together apart, while Mr Dick anxiously watched us from his chair, we concocted a scheme in virtue of which we got him to work next day with success.

On a table by the window in Buckingham Street, we set out the work Traddles procured for him - which was to make, I forget how many copies of a legal document about some right of way, and on another table we spread the last unfinished original of the great Memorial.  Our instructions to Mr Dick were that he should copy exactly what he had before him, without the least departure from the original; and that when he felt it necessary to make the slightest allusion to King Charles the First, he should fly to the Memorial.  We exhorted him to be resolute in this, and left my aunt to observe him.  Later, my aunt said that, at first, he was like a man playing the kettle drums, and constantly dividing his attention between the two, but finding this confuse and fatigue him, he soon came to an orderly business like manner, and postponed the Memorial to a more convenient time.  He was under the propitious influence of charm.  If there were a happy man in the world, that Saturday night, it was the grateful creature, who thought my aunt the most wonderful woman, and me the most wonderful young man.

'No starving now, Trotwood,' said Mr Dick, shaking hands with me in a corner.  'I'll provide her, sir!' and he flourished his ten fingers in the air, as if they were ten banks.

I hardly knew who was better pleased, Traddles or I.  Taking a letter out of his pocket Traddles said suddenly, 'It really puts Micawber quite out of my head.'

The letter was addressed to me.  It ran thus:

My dear Copperfield,

Possibly you may not be unprepared to receive the intimation that something has turned up.  I may have mentioned it to you on former occasion. 

I am about to establish myself in one of the provincial towns of our favoured island (where the society may be described as happy admixture of agricultural and clerical) in immediate connection with one of the learned professions.  Mrs Micawber and and our offspring will accompany me.  Our ashes at the future period, will probably found mingled in the cemetery attached to a venerable pile, for which the spot to which I refer has acquired a reputation, shall I say from China to Peru?

In bidding adieu to modern Babylon, where we have undergone merry vicissitudes, Mrs Micawber and myself cannot disguise from our minds that we part, with an individual linked by strong association to the altar of domestic life.  If on the eve of such a departure you will accompany our mutual friend, Mr Thomas Traddles, to our present abode, and there reciprocate the wishes natural to the occasion, you will confer a boon on one who is ever yours,

Wilkins Micawber 

I was glad to find that Mr Micawber had got rid of his dust and ashes, and that something really had turned up at last.  Learning from Traddles that the invitation referred to the evening then wearing away, I expressed my readiness to honour it; and we went off together to the lodging which Mr Micawber occupied as Mr Mortimer, and which was situated near the top of Gray's Inn Road.

The resources in the lodging were so limited, that we found the twins, now some eight or ten years old, repose in a turn-up bed-stead in the family sitting room, where Mr Micawber had prepared in a wash-hand-stand jug, what he called 'a Brew' of the agreeable beverage for which he was famous.  On this occassion I renewed my acquaintance of Master Micawber whom I found a promising boy of twelve or thirteen, very restless, natural to a boy of that age.  I also renewed my acquaintance with Miss Micawber in whom Mrs Micawber had renewed her youth.

'Mr Copperfield yourself and Mr Traddles find us on the brink of migration and will excuse any discomfort incidental to that position.' 

Glancing round as I made a suitable reply, I observed that the family effects were already packed, and the volume of luggage was by no means overwhelming.  I congratulated Mrs Micawber on the approaching change.

'That atleast is my view Mr Copperfield and Mr Traddles,' said Mrs Micawber, 'of the obligation which I took upon myself, when I repeated the irrevocable words, "I Emma, take thee Wilkins." I read the service over with a flat candle on the previous night, and the conclusion I derived from it was, that I never could desert Micawber, though it is possible, I may be mistaken in my view of the ceremony, I never will.'

'My dear,' said Mr Micawber, a little impatiently, 'I am not conscious that you are not expected to do anything of the sort.'

'I am aware, my dear Copperfield,' pursued Mrs Micawber, 'that I am now about to cast my lot amongst strangers, and I am also aware that the various members of my family, to whom Mr Micawber had written, as gentleman, announcing the fact, have not taken the least notice of it.  Indeed I may be superstitious,' said Mrs Micawber, 'but it appears to me that Mr Micawber is destined never to receive any answer to whatever the most he writes to them.  I may augur from the silence of my family, that they object to the resolution I have taken; but I should not allow myself to be swerved from the path of duty, Mr Copperfield, even by papa and mama, were they still living.

I said that this was going in the right direction.

'It may be a sacrifice,' said Mrs Micawber, to immure one's self in a Cathedral town, but surely, Mr Copperfield, it is a sacrifice in me, it is much more sacrifice in a man of Mr Micawber's abilities.'

'Oh! You are going to a Cathedral town?' said I.

Mr Micawber who had been helping us all out of wash-hand-stand jug, replied: 'To Canterbury.  In fact, my dear Copperfield, I have entered into arrangements, by virtue of which I stand pledged and contracted to our friend Heep, to assist and serve him in the capacity of - and to be - his confidential clerk.' 

I stared at Micawber, who greatly enjoyed my surprise.

'I am bound to state to you,' with an official air, 'that the business habits, and prudent suggestions of Mrs Micawber have in a great measure conducted to this result.  The gauntlet to which Mrs Micawber referred upon a former ocassion,   thrown down in the form of an advertisement, was taken up by my friend Heep, and led to a mutual recognition.  Of my friend Heep,' said Mr Micawber, 'who is a man of remarkable shrewdness, I desire to speak with all possible respect.  My friend Heep has not fixed the positive remuneration at too high a figure, but he has made a great deal, in the way of extrication from the pressure of pecuniary difficulties, contingent on the value of my services, and on the value of those services I pin my faith.  Such address and intelligence I chance to possess,' said Mr Micawber, boastfully disparaging himself, with old genteel air, 'will be devoted to my friend Heep's service.  I have already some acquaintance with the law - as a defendant on civil process - and I shall immediately apply myself to the commentaries of one of the most eminent and remarkable of our English jurists.  I believe it is necessary to add that I allude to Mr Justice Blackstone.'

These observations were interrupted by Mrs Micawber discovering that Master Micawber was sitting on his boots, or holding his head on with both hands as if he felt it loose, or accidently kicking Traddles under the table, or shuffling his feet over one another, or producing them at distances from himself apparently outrageous to nature, or lying sideways with his hair among the wine glasses, or developing his restlessness of limb in some other form incompatible with general interests of society, and by Master Micawber's receiving those discoveries in a resentful spirit.  I sat all the while amazed by Mr Micawber's disclosure, and wondering what it meant, until Mrs Micawber resumed the thread of the discourse and claimed my attention. 

'What I particularly request Mr Micawber to be careful of is,' said Mrs Micawber, 'that he does not, my dear Mr Copperfield, in applying himself to this subordinate branch of law, place it out of his power to rise, ultimately, to the top of the tree.  I am convinced that Mr Micawber, giving his mind to a profession so adapted to his fertile resources and his flow of language, must distinguish himself.  Now for example, Mr Traddles,' said Mrs Micawber, assuming a profound air, 'a judge or even, say a chancellor.  Does an individual place himself beyond the pale of those preferments by entering on such an office as Mr Micawber accepted?'

'My dear,' observed Mr Micawber - but glancing inquisitive at Traddles too; 'we have time enough before us, for the consideration of those questions.'

'Micawber,' she returned, 'no! your mistake in life is, that you do not look forward far enough.  You are bound, in justice to your family, if not to yourself, to take in at a comprehensive glance the extreme point in horizon to which your abilities may lead you.'

Mr Micawber coughed, and drank his punch with an air of exceeding satisfaction - still glancing at Traddles, as if he desired to have his opinion.

'Why, the plain state of the case, Mrs Micawber,' said Traddles, mildly breaking the truth to her, 'I mean the real prosaic fact, you know -'

'Just so,' said Mrs Micawber, 'my dear Mr Traddles, I wish to be as prosaic and as literal as possible on a subject of so much importance.'

'- is,' said Mr Traddles, 'that this branch of the law, even if Mr Micawber were a regular solicitor-' 

'Exactly so,' returned Mrs Micawber (Wilkins you are squinting, and will not be able to get your eyes back)

'- has nothing, pursued Traddles, 'to do with that.  Only a barrister is eligible for such preferments; and Mr Micawber could not be a barrister, without being entered at an inn of court as a student for five years.'

'Do I follow you?' said Mrs Micawber, with her most affable air of business. 'Do I understand, my dear Mr Traddles, that, at the expiration of that period, Mr Micawber would be eligible as a judge or chancellor?'

'He would be eligible,' returned Traddles with an emphasis on that word.

'Thank you,' said Mrs Micawber.  'That's quite sufficient.  If such is the case, and Mr Micawber forfeits no privilege by entering on these duties, my anxiety is set at rest.  I speak as a female, necessarily, but I have always been of opinion that Mr Micawber possesses what I have heard my papa call, when I lived at home, the judicial mind; and hope Mr Micawber is now entering on a field where that mind will develop itself, and take a commanding station.' 

I quite believe that Mr Micawber saw himself, in his judicial mind's eye, on the woolsack.  He passed his hand complacently over his bald head and said with ostentatious resignation:

'My dear, we will not anticipate the decrees of fortune.  If I am reserved to wear a wig, I am atleast prepared externally,' in allusion to his baldness, 'for that distinction.  I do not regret my hair, and I may have been deprived of it for a specific purpose.  I cannot say it is my intention, my dear Copperfield, to educate my son for the Church; I will not deny that I should be happy, on this account, to attain to eminence.'

'For the Church?' said I, still pondering, between whiles, on Uriah Heep.

'Yes,' said Mr Micawber.  'He has a remarkable head-voice, and will commence as a chorister.  Our residence at Canterbury and our local connection, will enable him to take advantage any vacancy that may arise in the Cathedral corps.' 

On looking at Master Micawber again, I saw that he had an expression of face, as if his voice were behind his eyebrows, where it presently appeared to be, on his singing 'The woodpecker tapping'.  After many compliments on this performance, we fell into some general conversation, and as I was too full of my desperate intentions to keep my altered circumstances to myself.  I made them known to Mr and Mrs Micawber.  I cannot express how extremely delighted they both were, by the idea of my aunt's being in difficulties, and how comfortable and friendly it made them.

When we nearly came to the last round of the punch, I addressed myself to Traddles, and reminded that we must not separate, without wishing our friends health, happiness, and success in their new career.  I begged Mr Micawber to fill us bumpers, and proposed the toast in due form, shaking hands with them accross the table, and kissing Mrs Micawber, to commemorate that eventful occasion.  Traddles imitated me in the first particular, but did not consider himself a sufficiently old friend to venture on the second.

'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr Micawber, rising with one of his thumbs in each of his waistcoat pockets, 'the companion of my youth: if I may be allowed that expression - and my esteemed friend Traddles: if I may be permitted to call him so - will allow me, on the part of Mrs Micawber, myself and our offspring, to thank them in the warmest and most uncompromising terms for their good wishes.  It may be expected that on the eve of a migration which will consign us to a perfectly new existence.' Mr Micawber spoke as if they were going a five hundred thousand miles, 'I should offer a few valedictory remarks to two such friends as I see before me.  But all that I have to say in this way, I have said.  Whatever station in society I may attain, through the medium of learned profession, of which I am about to become an unworthy member, I shall endeavour not to disgrace, and Mrs Micawber will be safe to adorn.  Under the temporary pressure of my pecuniary liabilities, contracted with a view to their immediate liquidation, but remaining  not liquidated through a combination of circumstances, I have been under the necessity of assuming a garb from which my natural instincts recoil - I allude to spectacles - and possessing myself of a cognomen, to which I can establish no legitimate pretensions.  All I have to say on that score is, that the cloud has passed from the dreary scene, and the God of Day is once more high upon the mountain tops.  On Monday next, on the arrival of the four o'clock afternoon coach at Canterbury, my foot will be on my native heath - my name Micawber!'

Mr Micawber resumed his seat on the close of these remarks, and drank two glasses of punch in grave succession.  He then said with much solemnity:

One thing more I have to do, before this separation is complete, and that is to perform an act of justice.  My friend Mr Thomas Traddles has, on two occasions has "put his name", if I may use a common expression, to bills of exchange for my accommodation.  On the first occasion Mr Thomas Traddles was left - let me say, in short, in the lurch.  The fulfilment of the second has not yet arrived.  The amount of the first obligation,' here Mr Micawber carefully referred to papers, 'was, I believe, twenty three, four, nine and half, of the second, according to my entry of that transaction, eighteen six two.  These sums, united, make a total, if my calculation is correct, amounting to forty one, ten, eleven and half.  My friend Copperfield will perhaps do me the favour to check the total?'

I did so and found it correct.

'To leave this metropolis,' said Mr Micawber, 'and my friend Mr Thomas Traddles, without acquitting the pecuniary part of this obligation, would weigh upon my mind to an insupportable extent.  I have, therefore, prepared for my friend Mr Thomas Traddles, and I now hold in my hand, a document, which accomplish, the desired object.  I beg to hand to my friend Mr Thomas Traddles my I.O.U. for forty one, ten, eleven and a half, and I am happy to recover my moral dignity, and to know that I can once more walk erect before my fellow man!'

With this introduction Mr Micawber placed his I.O.U. in the hands of Traddles, and said he wished him very well in every relation of life.  I am persuaded, not only that this was quite the same to Mr Micawber as paying the money, but Traddles himself hardly knew the difference until he had had the time to think about it.

Mr Micawber walked so erect before his fellow man on the strength of this virtuous action, that his chest looked half as broad again when he lighted us downstairs.  We parted with great heartiness on both sides, and when I had seen Traddles to his own door, and was going home alone, I thought, among the other and contradictory things I mused upon, that, slippery as Mr Micawber was, I was probably indebted to some compassionate recollection, for never having been asked by him for money.  I certainly should not have had the moral courage to refuse it, and I have no doubt he knew that (to his credit it be written), quite as well as I did.

         THE END OF CHAPTER 36

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