I dont stand up for life in general, he added, rubbing his hands and chuckling, its full of folly; full of something worse. Professions of trust, and confidence, and unselfishness, and all that! Bah, bah, bah! We see what theyre worth. But, you mustnt laugh at life; youve got a game to play; a very serious game indeed! Everybodys playing against you, you know, and youre playing against them. Oh! its a very interesting thing. There are deep moves upon the board. You must only laugh, Dr. Jeddler, when you win and then not much. He, he, he! And then not much, repeated Snitchey, rolling his head and winking his eye, as if he would have added, you may do this instead!
Well, Alfred! cried the Doctor, what do you say now?
I say, sir, replied Alfred, that the greatest favour you could do me, and yourself too, I am inclined to think, would be to try sometimes to forget this battle-field and others like it in that broader battlefield of Life, on which the sun looks every day.
Really, Im afraid that wouldnt soften his opinions, Mr. Alfred, said Snitchey. The combatants are very eager and very bitter in that same battle of Life. Theres a great deal of cutting and slashing, and firing into peoples heads from behind. There is terrible treading-down, and trampling-on. It is rather a bad business.
I believe, Mr. Snitchey, said Alfred, there are quiet victories and struggles, great sacrifices of self, and noble acts of heroism, in it even in many of its apparent lightnesses and contradictions not the less difficult to achieve, because they have no earthly chronicle or audience done every day in nooks and corners, and in little households, and in mens and womens hearts any one of which might reconcile the sternest man to such a world, and fill him with belief and hope in it, though two fourths of its people were at war, and another fourth at law; and thats a bold word.
Both the sisters listened keenly.
Well, well! said the Doctor, I am too old to be converted, even by my friend Snitchey here, or my good spinster sister, Martha Jeddler; who had what she calls her domestic trials ages ago, and has led a sympathising life with all sorts of people ever since; and who is so much of your opinion (only shes less reasonable and more obstinate, being a woman), that we cant agree, and seldom meet. I was born upon this battle-field. I began, as a boy, to have my thoughts directed to the real history of a battle-field. Sixty years have gone over my head, and I have never seen the Christian world, including Heaven knows how many loving mothers and good enough girls like mine here, anything but mad for a battle-field. The same contradictions prevail in everything. One must either laugh or cry at such stupendous inconsistencies; and I prefer to laugh.
Britain, who had been paying the profoundest and most melancholy attention to each speaker in his turn, seemed suddenly to decide in favour of the same preference, if a deep sepulchral sound that escaped him might be construed into a demonstration of risibility. His face, however, was so perfectly unaffected by it, both before and afterwards, that although one or two of the breakfast party looked round as being startled by a mysterious noise, nobody connected the offender with it.
Except his partner in attendance, Clemency Newcome; who rousing him with one of those favourite joints, her elbows, inquired, in a reproachful whisper, what he laughed at.
Not you! said Britain.
Who then?
Humanity, said Britain. Thats the joke!
What between master and them lawyers, hes getting more and more addle-headed every day! cried Clemency, giving him a lunge with the other elbow, as a mental stimulant. Do you know where you are? Do you want to get warning?
I dont know anything, said Britain, with a leaden eye and an immovable visage. I dont care for anything. I dont make out anything. I dont believe anything. And I dont want anything.
Although this forlorn summary of his general condition may have been overcharged in an access of despondency, Benjamin Britain sometimes called Little Britain, to distinguish him from Great; as we might say Young England, to express Old England with a decided difference had defined his real state more accurately than might be supposed. For, serving as a sort of man Miles to the Doctors Friar Bacon, and listening day after day to innumerable orations addressed by the Doctor to various people, all tending to show that his very existence was at best a mistake and an absurdity, this unfortunate servitor had fallen, by degrees, into such an abyss of confused and contradictory suggestions from within and without, that Truth at the bottom of her well, was on the level surface as compared with Britain in the depths of his mystification. The only point he clearly comprehended, was, that the new element usually brought into these discussions by Snitchey and Craggs, never served to make them clearer, and always seemed to give the Doctor a species of advantage and confirmation. Therefore, he looked upon the Firm as one of the proximate causes of his state of mind, and held them in abhorrence accordingly.
But, this is not our business, Alfred, said the Doctor. Ceasing to be my ward (as you have said) to-day; and leaving us full to the brim of such learning as the Grammar School down here was able to give you, and your studies in London could add to that, and such practical knowledge as a dull old country Doctor like myself could graft upon both; you are away, now, into the world. The first term of probation[10] appointed by your poor father, being over, away you go now, your own master, to fulfil his second desire. And long before your three years tour among the foreign schools of medicine is finished, youll have forgotten us. Lord, youll forget us easily in six months!
If I do But you know better; why should I speak to you! said Alfred, laughing.
I dont know anything of the sort, returned the Doctor. What do you say, Marion?
Marion, trifling with her teacup, seemed to say but she didnt say it that he was welcome to forget, if he could. Grace pressed the blooming face against her cheek, and smiled.
I havent been, I hope, a very unjust steward in the execution of my trust, pursued the Doctor; but I am to be, at any rate, formally discharged, and released, and what not this morning; and here are our good friends Snitchey and Craggs, with a bagful of papers, and accounts, and documents, for the transfer of the balance of the trust fund to you (I wish it was a more difficult one to dispose of, Alfred, but you must get to be a great man and make it so), and other drolleries of that sort, which are to be signed, sealed, and delivered.
And duly witnessed as by law required, said Snitchey, pushing away his plate, and taking out the papers, which his partner proceeded to spread upon the table; and Self and Craggs having been co-trustees with you, Doctor, in so far as the fund was concerned, we shall want your two servants to attest the signatures can you read, Mrs. Newcome?
I ant married, Mister, said Clemency.
Oh! I beg your pardon. I should think not, chuckled Snitchey, casting his eyes over her extraordinary figure. You CAN read?
A little, answered Clemency.
The marriage service, night and morning, eh? observed the lawyer, jocosely.
No, said Clemency. Too hard. I only reads a thimble.
Read a thimble! echoed Snitchey. What are you talking about, young woman?