Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXVII, August 1852, Vol. VVarious
History
Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. XXVII, August 1852, Vol. V
Various
American literature -- Periodicals; Civilization -- Periodicals; Culture -- Periodicals
Mrs. Pardiggle came one day for a subscription to something--and
with her, Mr. Quale. Whatever Mrs. Pardiggle said, Mr. Quale
repeated to us; and just as he had drawn Mrs. Jellyby out, he drew
Mrs. Pardiggle out. Mrs. Pardiggle wrote a letter of introduction to
my Guardian, in behalf of her eloquent friend, Mr. Gusher. With Mr.
Gusher, appeared Mr. Quale again. Mr. Gusher, being a flabby
gentleman with a moist surface, and eyes so much too small for his
moon of a face that they seemed to have been originally made for
somebody else, was not at first sight prepossessing; yet, he was
scarcely seated, before Mr. Quale asked Ada and me, not inaudibly,
whether he was not a great creature--which he certainly was,
flabbily speaking; though Mr. Quale meant in intellectual
beauty--and whether we were not struck by his massive configuration
of brow? In short, we heard of a great many missions of various
sorts, among this set of people; but, nothing respecting them was
half so clear to us, as that it was Mr. Quale's mission to be in
ecstasies with everybody else's mission, and that it was the most
popular mission of all.
Mr. Jarndyce had fallen into this company, in the tenderness of his
heart and his earnest desire to do all the good in his power; but,
that he felt it to be too often an unsatisfactory company, where
benevolence took spasmodic forms; where charity was assumed, as a
regular uniform, by loud professors and speculators in cheap
notoriety, vehement in profession, restless and vain in action,
servile in the last degree of meanness to the great, adulatory of
one another, and intolerable to those who were anxious quietly to
help the weak from falling, rather than with a great deal of bluster
and self-laudation to raise them up a little way when they were
down; he plainly told us. When a testimonial was originated to Mr.
Quale, by Mr. Gusher (who had already got one, originated by Mr.
Quale), and when Mr. Gusher spoke for an hour and a half on the
subject to a meeting, including two charity schools of small boys
and girls, who were specially reminded of the widow's mite, and
requested to come forward with half-pence and be acceptable
sacrifices; I think the wind was in the east for three whole weeks.
I mention this, because I am coming to Mr. Skimpole again. It seemed
to me that his off-hand professions of childishness and carelessness
were a great relief to my Guardian, by contrast with such things,
and were the more readily believed in; since, to find one perfectly
undesigning and candid man, among many opposites, could not fail to
give him pleasure. I should be sorry to imply that Mr. Skimpole
divined this, and was politic: I really never understood him well
enough to know. What he was to my Guardian, he certainly was to the
rest of the world.
He had not been very well; and thus, though he lived in London, we
had seen nothing of him until now. He appeared one morning, in his
usual agreeable way, and as full of pleasant spirits as ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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