Emma Micawber,to you I also raise my hat.How often has the example of your philosophy saved me,when I,likewise,have suffered under the temporary pressure of pecuniary liabilities;when the sun of my prosperity,too,has sunk beneath the dark horizon of the world--in short,when I,also,have found myself in a tight corner.I have asked myself what would the Micawbers have done in my place.And Ihave answered myself.They would have sat down to a dish of lamb's fry,cooked and breaded by the deft hands of Emma,followed by a brew of punch,concocted by the beaming Wilkins,and have forgotten all their troubles,for the time being.Whereupon,seeing first that sufficient small change was in my pocket,I have entered the nearest restaurant,and have treated myself to a repast of such sumptuousness as the aforesaid small change would command,emerging from that restaurant stronger and more fit for battle.And lo!the sun of my prosperity has peeped at me from over the clouds with a sly wink,as if to say "Cheer up;I am only round the corner."Cheery,elastic Mr.and Mrs.Micawber,how would half the world face their fate but by the help of a kindly,shallow nature such as yours?
I love to think that your sorrows can be drowned in nothing more harmful than a bowl of punch.Here's to you,Emma,and to you,Wilkins,and to the twins!
May you and such childlike folk trip lightly over the stones upon your path!May something ever turn up for you,my dears!May the rain of life ever fall as April showers upon your simple bald head,Micawber!
And you,sweet Dora,let me confess I love you,though sensible friends deem you foolish.Ah,silly Dora,fashioned by wise Mother Nature who knows that weakness and helplessness are as a talisman calling forth strength and tenderness in man,trouble yourself not unduly about the oysters and the underdone mutton,little woman.
Good plain cooks at twenty pounds a year will see to these things for us.Your work is to teach us gentleness and kindness.Lay your foolish curls just here,child.It is from such as you we learn wisdom.Foolish wise folk sneer at you.Foolish wise folk would pull up the laughing lilies,the needless roses from the garden,would plant in their places only useful,wholesome cabbage.But the gardener,knowing better,plants the silly,short-lived flowers,foolish wise folk asking for what purpose.
Gallant Traddles,of the strong heart and the unruly hair;Sophy,dearest of girls;Betsy Trotwood,with your gentlemanly manners and your woman's heart,you have come to me in shabby rooms,making the dismal place seem bright.In dark hours your kindly faces have looked out at me from the shadows,your kindly voices have cheered me.
Little Em'ly and Agnes,it may be my bad taste,but I cannot share my friend Dickens'enthusiasm for them.Dickens'good women are all too good for human nature's daily food.Esther Summerson,Florence Dombey,Little Nell--you have no faults to love you by.
Scott's women were likewise mere illuminated texts.Scott only drew one live heroine--Catherine Seton.His other women were merely the prizes the hero had to win in the end,like the sucking pig or the leg of mutton for which the yokel climbs the greasy pole.That Dickens could draw a woman to some likeness he proved by Bella Wilfer,and Estella in "Great Expectations."But real women have never been popular in fiction.Men readers prefer the false,and women readers object to the truth.
