FragmentWelcome to consult..., by which he has been hitherto overlooked, is to Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
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David Copperfield
advertise in all the papers; to describe himself plainly as so-and-so,
with such and such qualifications and to put it thus: “Now employ
me, on remunerative terms, and address, post-paid, to W. M., Post
Office, Camden Town.”’
‘This idea of Mrs. Micawber’s, my dear Copperfield,’ said Mr.
Micawber, making his shirt-collar meet in front of his chin, and
glancing at me sideways, ‘is, in fact, the Leap to which I alluded,
when I last had the pleasure of seeing you.’
‘Advertising is rather expensive,’ I remarked, dubiously.
‘Exactly so!’ said Mrs. Micawber, preserving the same logical
air. ‘Quite true, my dear Mr. Copperfield! I have made the
identical observation to Mr. Micawber. It is for that reason
especially, that I think Mr. Micawber ought (as I have already said,
in justice to himself, in justice to his family, and in justice to
society) to raise a certain sum of money—on a bill.’
Mr. Micawber, leaning back in his chair, trifled with his eyeglass and cast his eyes up at the ceiling; but I thought him
observant of Traddles, too, who was looking at the fire.
‘If no member of my family,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘is possessed
of sufficient natural feeling to negotiate that bill—I believe there is
a better business-term to express what I mean—’
Mr. Micawber, with his eyes still cast up at the ceiling,
suggested ‘Discount.’
‘To discount that bill,’ said Mrs. Micawber, ‘then my opinion is,
that Mr. Micawber should go into the City, should take that bill
into the Money Market, and should dispose of it for what he can
get. If the individuals in the Money Market oblige Mr. Micawber to
sustain a great sacrifice, that is between themselves and their
consciences. I view it, steadily, as an investment. I recommend Mr.
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David Copperfield
Micawber, my dear Mr. Copperfield, to do the same; to regard it as
an investment which is sure of return, and to make up his mind to
any sacrifice.’
I felt, but I am sure I don’t know why, that this was self-denying
and devoted in Mrs. Micawber, and I uttered a murmur to that
effect. Traddles, who took his tone from me, did likewise, still
looking at the fire.
‘I will not,’ said Mrs. Micawber, finishing her punch, and
gathering her scarf about her shoulders, preparatory to her
withdrawal to my bedroom: ‘I will not protract these remarks on
the subject of Mr. Micawber’s pecuniary affairs. At your fireside,
my dear Mr. Copperfield, and in the presence of Mr. Traddles,
who, though not so old a friend, is quite one of ourselves, I could
not refrain from making you acquainted with the course I advise
Mr. Micawber to take. I feel that the time is arrived when Mr.
Micawber should exert himself and—I will add—assert himself,
and it appears to me that these are the means. I am aware that I
am merely a female, and that a masculine judgement is usually
considered more competent to the discussion of such questions;
still I must not forget that, when I lived at home with my papa and
mama, my papa was in the habit of saying, “Emma’s form is
fragile, but her grasp of a subject is inferior to none.” That my
papa was too partial, I well know; but that he was an observer of
character in some degree, my duty and my reason equally forbid
me to doubt.’
With these words, and resisting our entreaties that she would
grace the remaining circulation of the punch with her presence,
Mrs. Micawber retired to my bedroom. And really I felt that she
was a noble woman—the sort of woman who might have been a
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David Copperfield
Roman matron, and done all manner of heroic things, in times of
public trouble.
In the fervour of this impr
