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
