Chapter LVII

IN WHICH THE PICKWICK CLUB IS FINALLY

DISSOLVED, AND EVERYTHING CONCLUDED

TO THE SATISFACTION OF EVERYBODY

or a whole week after the happy arrival of Mr. Winkle

from Birmingham, Mr. Pickwick and Sam Weller were

from home all day long, only returning just in time for

dinner, and then wearing an air of mystery and importance quite

foreign to their natures. It was evident that very grave and

eventful proceedings were on foot; but various surmises were

afloat, respecting their precise character. Some (among whom was

Mr. Tupman) were disposed to think that Mr. Pickwick

contemplated a matrimonial alliance; but this idea the ladies most

strenuously repudiated. Others rather inclined to the belief that he

had projected some distant tour, and was at present occupied in

effecting the preliminary arrangements; but this again was stoutly

denied by Sam himself, who had unequivocally stated, when cross-

examined by Mary, that no new journeys were to be undertaken.

At length, when the brains of the whole party had been racked for

six long days, by unavailing speculation, it was unanimously

resolved that Mr. Pickwick should be called upon to explain his

conduct, and to state distinctly why he had thus absented himself

from the society of his admiring friends.

With this view, Mr. Wardle invited the full circle to dinner at the

Adelphi; and the decanters having been thrice sent round, opened

the business.

'We are all anxious to know,' said the old gentleman, 'what we

have done to offend you, and to induce you to desert us and devote

yourself to these solitary walks.'

'Are you?' said Mr. Pickwick. 'It is singular enough that I had

intended to volunteer a full explanation this very day; so, if you

will give me another glass of wine, I will satisfy your curiosity.'

The decanters passed from hand to hand with unwonted

briskness, and Mr. Pickwick, looking round on the faces of his

friends with a cheerful smile, proceeded:

'All the changes that have taken place among us,' said Mr.

Pickwick, 'I mean the marriage that has taken place, and the

marriage that will take place, with the changes they involve,

rendered it necessary for me to think, soberly and at once, upon

my future plans. I determined on retiring to some quiet, pretty

neighbourhood in the vicinity of London; I saw a house which

exactly suited my fancy; I have taken it and furnished it. It is fully

prepared for my reception, and I intend entering upon it at once,

trusting that I may yet live to spend many quiet years in peaceful

retirement, cheered through life by the society of my friends, and

followed in death by their affectionate remembrance.'

Here Mr. Pickwick paused, and a low murmur ran round the

table.

'The house I have taken,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'is at Dulwich. It

has a large garden, and is situated in one of the most pleasant

spots near London. It has been fitted up with every attention to

substantial comfort; perhaps to a little elegance besides; but of

that you shall judge for yourselves. Sam accompanies me there. I

have engaged, on Perker's representation, a housekeeper―a very

old one―and such other servants as she thinks I shall require. I

propose to consecrate this little retreat, by having a ceremony in

which I take a great interest, performed there. I wish, if my friend

Wardle entertains no objection, that his daughter should be

married from my new house, on the day I take possession of it.

The happiness of young people,' said Mr. Pickwick, a little moved,

'has ever been the chief pleasure of my life. It will warm my heart

to witness the happiness of those friends who are dearest to me,

beneath my own roof.'

Mr. Pickwick paused again: Emily and Arabella sobbed audibly.

'I have communicated, both personally and by letter, with the

club,' resumed Mr. Pickwick, 'acquainting them with my intention.

During our long absence, it has suffered much from internal

dissentions; and the withdrawal of my name, coupled with this

and other circumstances, has occasioned its dissolution. The

Pickwick Club exists no longer.

'I shall never regret,' said Mr. Pickwick in a low voice, 'I shall

never regret having devoted the greater part of two years to

mixing with different varieties and shades of human character,

frivolous as my pursuit of novelty may have appeared to many.

Nearly the whole of my previous life having been devoted to

business and the pursuit of wealth, numerous scenes of which I

had no previous conception have dawned upon me―I hope to the

enlargement of my mind, and the improvement of my

understanding. If I have done but little good, I trust I have done

less harm, and that none of my adventures will be other than a

source of amusing and pleasant recollection to me in the decline of

life. God bless you all!'

With these words, Mr. Pickwick filled and drained a bumper

with a trembling hand; and his eyes moistened as his friends rose

with one accord, and pledged him from their hearts.

There were few preparatory arrangements to be made for the

marriage of Mr. Snodgrass. As he had neither father nor mother,

and had been in his minority a ward of Mr. Pickwick's, that

gentleman was perfectly well acquainted with his possessions and

prospects. His account of both was quite satisfactory to Wardle―

as almost any other account would have been, for the good old

gentleman was overflowing with Hilarity and kindness―and a

handsome portion having been bestowed upon Emily, the

marriage was fixed to take place on the fourth day from that

time―the suddenness of which preparations reduced three

dressmakers and a tailor to the extreme verge of insanity.

Getting post-horses to the carriage, old Wardle started off, next

day, to bring his mother back to town. Communicating his

intelligence to the old lady with characteristic impetuosity, she

instantly fainted away; but being promptly revived, ordered the

brocaded silk gown to be packed up forthwith, and proceeded to

relate some circumstances of a similar nature attending the

marriage of the eldest daughter of Lady Tollimglower, deceased,

which occupied three hours in the recital, and were not half

finished at last.

Mrs. Trundle had to be informed of all the mighty preparations

that were making in London; and, being in a delicate state of

health, was informed thereof through Mr. Trundle, lest the news

should be too much for her; but it was not too much for her,

inasmuch as she at once wrote off to Muggleton, to order a new

cap and a black satin gown, and moreover avowed her

determination of being present at the ceremony. Hereupon, Mr.

Trundle called in the doctor, and the doctor said Mrs. Trundle

ought to know best how she felt herself, to which Mrs. Trundle

replied that she felt herself quite equal to it, and that she had

made up her mind to go; upon which the doctor, who was a wise

and discreet doctor, and knew what was good for himself, as well

as for other people, said that perhaps if Mrs. Trundle stopped at

home, she might hurt herself more by fretting, than by going, so

perhaps she had better go. And she did go; the doctor with great

attention sending in half a dozen of medicine, to be drunk upon

the road.

In addition to these points of distraction, Wardle was intrusted

with two small letters to two small young ladies who were to act as

bridesmaids; upon the receipt of which, the two young ladies were

driven to despair by having no 'things' ready for so important an

occasion, and no time to make them in―a circumstance which

appeared to afford the two worthy papas of the two small young

ladies rather a feeling of satisfaction than otherwise. However, old

frocks were trimmed, and new bonnets made, and the young

ladies looked as well as could possibly have been expected of

them. And as they cried at the subsequent ceremony in the proper

places, and trembled at the right times, they acquitted themselves

to the admiration of all beholders. How the two poor relations ever

reached London―whether they walked, or got behind coaches, or

procured lifts in wagons, or carried each other by turns―is

uncertain; but there they were, before Wardle; and the very first

people that knocked at the door of Mr. Pickwick's house, on the

bridal morning, were the two poor relations, all smiles and shirt

collar.

They were welcomed heartily though, for riches or poverty had

no influence on Mr. Pickwick; the new servants were all alacrity

and readiness; Sam was in a most unrivalled state of high spirits

and excitement; Mary was glowing with beauty and smart ribands.

The bridegroom, who had been staying at the house for two or

three days previous, sallied forth gallantly to Dulwich Church to

meet the bride, attended by Mr. Pickwick, Ben Allen, Bob Sawyer,

and Mr. Tupman; with Sam Weller outside, having at his button-

hole a white favour, the gift of his lady-love, and clad in a new and

gorgeous suit of livery invented for the occasion. They were met

by the Wardles, and the Winkles, and the bride and bridesmaids,

and the Trundles; and the ceremony having been performed, the

coaches rattled back to Mr. Pickwick's to breakfast, where little

Mr. Perker already awaited them.

Here, all the light clouds of the more solemn part of the

proceedings passed away; every face shone forth joyously; and

nothing was to be heard but congratulations and commendations.

Everything was so beautiful! The lawn in front, the garden behind,

the miniature conservatory, the dining-room, the drawing-room,

the bedrooms, the smoking-room, and, above all, the study, with

its pictures and easy-chairs, and odd cabinets, and queer tables,

and books out of number, with a large cheerful window opening

upon a pleasant lawn and commanding a pretty landscape, dotted

here and there with little houses almost hidden by the trees; and

then the curtains, and the carpets, and the chairs, and the sofas!

Everything was so beautiful, so compact, so neat, and in such

exquisite taste, said everybody, that there really was no deciding

what to admire most.

And in the midst of all this, stood Mr. Pickwick, his

countenance lighted up with smiles, which the heart of no man,

woman, or child, could resist: himself the happiest of the group:

shaking hands, over and over again, with the same people, and

when his own hands were not so employed, rubbing them with

pleasure: turning round in a different direction at every fresh

expression of gratification or curiosity, and inspiring everybody

with his looks of gladness and delight.

Breakfast is announced. Mr. Pickwick leads the old lady (who

has been very eloquent on the subject of Lady Tollimglower) to

the top of a long table; Wardle takes the bottom; the friends

arrange themselves on either side; Sam takes his station behind

his master's chair; the laughter and talking cease; Mr. Pickwick,

having said grace, pauses for an instant and looks round him. As

he does so, the tears roll down his cheeks, in the fullness of his joy.

Let us leave our old friend in one of those moments of unmixed

happiness, of which, if we seek them, there are ever some, to cheer

our transitory existence here. There are dark shadows on the

earth, but its lights are stronger in the contrast. Some men, like

bats or owls, have better eyes for the darkness than for the light.

We, who have no such optical powers, are better pleased to take

our last parting look at the visionary companions of many solitary

hours, when the brief sunshine of the world is blazing full upon

them.

It is the fate of most men who mingle with the world, and attain

even the prime of life, to make many real friends, and lose them in

the course of nature. It is the fate of all authors or chroniclers to

create imaginary friends, and lose them in the course of art. Nor is

this the full extent of their misfortunes; for they are required to

furnish an account of them besides.

In compliance with this custom―unquestionably a bad one―

we subjoin a few biographical words, in relation to the party at Mr.

Pickwick's assembled.

Mr. and Mrs. Winkle, being fully received into favour by the old

gentleman, were shortly afterwards installed in a newly-built

house, not half a mile from Mr. Pickwick's. Mr. Winkle, being

engaged in the city as agent or town correspondent of his father,

exchanged his old costume for the ordinary dress of Englishmen,

and presented all the external appearance of a civilised Christian

ever afterwards.

Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass settled at Dingley Dell, where they

purchased and cultivated a small farm, more for occupation than

profit. Mr. Snodgrass, being occasionally abstracted and

melancholy, is to this day reputed a great poet among his friends

and acquaintance, although we do not find that he has ever

written anything to encourage the belief. There are many

celebrated characters, literary, philosophical, and otherwise, who

hold a high reputation on a similar tenure.

Mr. Tupman, when his friends married, and Mr. Pickwick

settled, took lodgings at Richmond, where he has ever since

resided. He walks constantly on the terrace during the summer

months, with a youthful and jaunty air, which has rendered him

the admiration of the numerous elderly ladies of single condition,

who reside in the vicinity. He has never proposed again.

Mr. Bob Sawyer, having previously passed through the Gazette,

passed over to Bengal, accompanied by Mr. Benjamin Allen; both

gentlemen having received surgical appointments from the East

India Company. They each had the yellow fever fourteen times,

and then resolved to try a little abstinence; since which period,

they have been doing well. Mrs. Bardell let lodgings to many

conversable single gentlemen, with great profit, but never brought

any more actions for breach of promise of marriage. Her attorneys,

Messrs. Dodson & Fogg, continue in business, from which they

realise a large income, and in which they are universally

considered among the sharpest of the sharp.

Sam Weller kept his word, and remained unmarried, for two

years. The old housekeeper dying at the end of that time, Mr.

Pickwick promoted Mary to the situation, on condition of her

marrying Mr. Weller at once, which she did without a murmur.

From the circumstance of two sturdy little boys having been

repeatedly seen at the gate of the back garden, there is reason to

suppose that Sam has some family.

The elder Mr. Weller drove a coach for twelve months, but

being afflicted with the gout, was compelled to retire. The contents

of the pocket-book had been so well invested for him, however, by

Mr. Pickwick, that he had a handsome independence to retire on,

upon which he still lives at an excellent public-house near

Shooter's Hill, where he is quite reverenced as an oracle, boasting

very much of his intimacy with Mr. Pickwick, and retaining a most

unconquerable aversion to widows.

Mr. Pickwick himself continued to reside in his new house,

employing his leisure hours in arranging the memoranda which he

afterwards presented to the secretary of the once famous club, or

in hearing Sam Weller read aloud, with such remarks as suggested

themselves to his mind, which never failed to afford Mr. Pickwick

great amusement. He was much troubled at first, by the numerous

applications made to him by Mr. Snodgrass, Mr. Winkle, and Mr.

Trundle, to act as godfather to their offspring; but he has become

used to it now, and officiates as a matter of course. He never had

occasion to regret his bounty to Mr. Jingle; for both that person

and Job Trotter became, in time, worthy members of society,

although they have always steadily objected to return to the scenes

of their old haunts and temptations. Mr. Pickwick is somewhat

infirm now; but he retains all his former juvenility of spirit, and

may still be frequently seen, contemplating the pictures in the

Dulwich Gallery, or enjoying a walk about the pleasant

neighbourhood on a fine day. He is known by all the poor people

about, who never fail to take their hats off, as he passes, with great

respect. The children idolise him, and so indeed does the whole

neighbourhood. Every year he repairs to a large family merry-

making at Mr. Wardle's; on this, as on all other occasions, he is

invariably attended by the faithful Sam, between whom and his

master there exists a steady and reciprocal attachment which

nothing but death will terminate.

The End
关键字:匹克威克外传
生词表: