Chapter 65 Chapter 61: Two Ridiculous Penitents

I spent months writing each book, and before I finished a book I was living with my aunt in Dover.When I was taken in, I used to look at the bright moon on the sea from behind a window. Now, I sit behind that window and write quietly. My claim is that I speak of my novels only when my biography mentions my creative course, so that I do not speak of my literary ambitions, of all the joys and sorrows that arose from them, and of my success.I have already said that I devoted myself to literature with the most pious and earnest heart, and to it I threw all the energies of my soul.If the books I have written are of any value, they have something more to offer than books.If my books are worthless, nobody cares about anything else about them.

I used to go to London, to experience the hustle and bustle of city life there, or to consult Traddles about some business.During my stay abroad, he helped me manage my finances with very accurate judgment, which made my finances grow day by day.When my fame began to bring me a flood of letters from strangers--most of them innocuous and extremely difficult to answer--I took Traddles' advice and put my name on his door, and this Dutiful postmen here and there deliver a great deal of letters addressed to me. I went there from time to time to deal with the letters like an unpaid Home Secretary.

In these letters, it is often seen that one of the countless people ambushing outside the doctor's college earnestly proposes to use my name (if I am willing to complete the incomplete qualification procedures for attorneys) to perform attorney affairs, and Give me some of the profits.I declined the offers, knowing that there were enough impostors of this kind, and considering that the Doctor's College was bad enough that I didn't need to do anything to make it worse. By the time my name was flamboyant over Traddles' door, the girls had gone home; the sharp young man didn't seem to know Sophie at all.Sophie shut herself up in a back room all day, doing her needlework and looking out into a long narrow garden with an artesian well below the house.But there I saw her always such a jovial housewife; when no stranger's footsteps came upstairs, she hummed a little German tune, and softened the hard-edged young man in the office with her sweet voice. .

At first, I didn't understand why Sophie was often seen writing on an exercise book, and I didn't understand why she closed the book as soon as she saw me, and hurriedly stuffed it into a desk drawer.Before long, the truth came out.One day Traddles, who had just come home from the courthouse through light snow, took a document from his desk, and asked me what I thought of the calligraphy. "Oh, don't do that, Tom!" cried Sophie, who was baking his slippers before the fire. "My dear," said Tom cheerfully, "why not? What do you think of that calligraphy, Copperfield?"

"Very qualified, very standardized," I said, "I don't believe I've ever seen calligraphy with such sophisticated strokes." "It's not like a woman's handwriting, is it?" said Traddles. "A woman's?" I repeated. "Masonry looks more like a woman's handwriting than this!" Traddles laughed.So he told me that this was exactly Sophie's handwriting; he also told me that Sophie decided that he would need a clerk soon, so she made that clerk; typeface, and can be copied in an hour—I forget how many pages.Sophie was embarrassed by what I heard, and said that when Tom was a judge it would be inappropriate to announce the truth so lightly.Tom denies it, and thinks he's proud of it under any circumstances.

"What a lovely lady she is, my dear Traddles!" said I, as she went away laughing. "My dear Copperfield," went on Traddles, "she is, indeed, the sweetest girl! The way she keeps the place, her quickness, her knowledge of housekeeping, economy and order, and Her kindness is all the best, Copperfield!" "Of course, you have every reason to praise her!" I went on. "You are a happy man. I believe you make each of you and each other the happiest people in the world." "I believe we were two of the happiest people," continued Traddles, "at any rate, I admit it. Good God, she got up with candles on those dark mornings, and busily arranged her day. in good weather or bad, she went to the market before the clerks came in, prepared the best little suppers of the cheapest ingredients, made puddings and pies, put everything in order, and always She dresses herself up so neatly, and sits with me no matter how late at night, always gentle and kind, always pleasant, and doing everything for me. When I see her doing this, how can I not believe that it is all Really, Copperfield!"

When he put on the sandals she had warmed for him, he also showed affection for them, and stretched his feet comfortably over the grate. "I can't always believe it," said Traddles, "and what we enjoy! Oh, it doesn't cost so much, and it's wonderful! Some evenings we're at home, shutting the outer door and drawing the curtains— —she made it all herself—what better place to be than here? When the weather is fine, we go out for a walk, and the street is full of things to feast our eyes on. We look into the shining windows of jewelers, I showed Sophie those things, and if I could afford them, I would buy her the diamond serpent on a white satin base; Sophie also showed me the jeweled and covered gold double-spring watch , she'd buy it for me if she could afford it. We picked out spoons, forks, fish knives, butter knives, sugar tongs that we'd buy if we could; as if we'd really bought them! Then, We wandered down to Square and Main Street, and seeing a house for rent, we looked at it and said, what would this house be like if I were a judge? So we arranged it—this room was given by We live in that one for the girls, etc. Until we see if it works for us on a case-by-case basis. Sometimes we pay half the price to go to the back row of the theater - as far as I can see, its only feature It's cheap—we'll sit there and enjoy the play, and Sophie takes every word of it seriously, and so do I. On the walk home, we might go to the grocer to buy something to eat, or a fishmonger's. Take home a crayfish and have a wonderful dinner talking about what we've seen. Now, you know, Copperfield, we couldn't do that if I were Lord Chancellor!"

"Whatever you are, my dear Traddles," I thought, "you'll do some good, happy deeds, and by the way," I said aloud, "I guess you don't draw skulls any more now." ?” "As a matter of fact," replied Traddles, blushing and laughing, "I cannot quite break the habit, my dear Copperfield. For, sitting in the back of the Supreme Court one day, I happened to hold pen, and I was tempted to try if I remembered the trick. I'm afraid there's a skeleton on the shelf of that table— Still wearing a wig. " We both laughed heartily.Traddles looked at the fire with a smile, and said, "Old Creeker," in his usual indulgent tone, and thus ended the joke.

"I have here a letter from the old--wretch," said I, all the more reluctant to forgive him for his former corporal punishment of Traddles, seeing how easily Traddles himself forgave him. "From Headmaster Creeker?" cried Traddles. "Is there such a thing!" "Among those who were attracted by my fame and fortune," I said, leafing through my letters, "among those who suddenly found that they cared about me all along, there was that Creeker. He's not going to be headmaster now. Yes, Traddles. He has retired, and is now an inquisitor in Middlesex."

I expected Traddles to be surprised, but he was not. "How do you suppose he became Inquisitor of Middlesex?" I said. "Oh dear!" replied Traddles, "that's a hard question to answer. Perhaps whom he voted for, or lent money to, or bought from whom, or blackmailed someone, or Why does someone exercise, and who does this person know, and that person asked the local civil affairs officer to entrust him with this task." "Anyway, he's got the job," I said, "and he's telling me in this letter that he'd like to show me the only correct system of prison discipline that's in practice, so that the rehabilitated can really stop being bad." And the only unassailable way to really repent — you know, is quarantine. What do you think?"

"About the system?" asked Traddles gravely. "No. It's whether I should accept the offer, and whether you will come with me?" "I have no objection," said Traddles. "Then I'll write to him and tell him so. I'm sure you remember that Creeker who threw his son out of his home and made his wife and daughter miserable—not to mention what he did to us?" "Not at all," said Traddles. "Though I never found him sympathetic to any other man," said I, "you will find, in reading his letters, that he is a man of great sympathy for any felon!" Traddles shrugged his shoulders very indifferently.I don't expect him to be surprised, and I don't think I'm surprised, unless I really don't see too much of this ridiculous situation that mocks reality.We fixed a time for our visit, and I wrote to Mr. Creeker that evening in accordance with our plan. On the appointed day--I believe it was the next day, let alone that--Traddles and I went to the prison run by Creeker.It was a large, solid and expensive building.As we approached the gate, I couldn't help thinking what an uproar it would be in England if someone were inspired to propose an industrial school for young people, or a retirement home for widowed old people, for half the cost of building this house. Terrified. In an imposing office that seemed to be on the ground floor of the Tower of Barbita, we were introduced to our old headmaster.There was also a group of people there at the time, two or three of whom were the busier inquisitors, and some of them were visitors they had brought.He received me as someone who had enlightened and shaped my mind in the past and who had always loved me very much.When I introduced Traddles, Mr. Creeker expressed in a similar manner, but in a lesser degree, that he had always been Traddles' tutor, philosopher, and friend.Our respected teacher has aged a lot, but his appearance has not improved a bit, his face is still as red, his eyes are still the same, and they are sunken a little more.I remember his white hair, which was thin but still wet, is now gone; the thick blood vessels on his bald head are not attractive and look better than before. From a conversation with these gentlemen I seemed to draw the conclusion that there is nothing in the world worth caring for but the comfort and pleasure of the prisoners at any cost, and that outside prisons There is nothing worth doing in such a huge world.Then, we started to visit.It was time for dinner, and we went first into the spacious pantry, where, with the exactness and regularity of clockwork, the food and drink of each prisoner was distributed and delivered to his cell.I whispered to Traddles that there was a stark contrast in the food of the soldiers, sailors, labourers, and most of the hard-working laborers, let alone beggars, when they saw these sumptuous meals, made of the best materials; Not one in five hundred of the latter eats half as well as it does now.But I heard that that "system" requires a high standard of living; in a word, or in a word, that "system" itself can eliminate all doubts and solve all problems.No one seems to have thought that any other system than that should be considered. As we passed in the lofty corridors, I asked Mr. Creeker and his friends what they thought to be the chief advantage of this dominating and above all system?The advantage, I find, is that it allows the prisoner to be completely isolated—so that in confinement no one knows anything about the other; and that it facilitates the recovery of the prisoner's mental state, and thus the possibility of genuine repentance. Ok.When we started interviewing each prisoner in the cell, when we walked through the corridor in front of the cell, when we listened to the introduction about going to church and so on, it occurred to me that there is still a good chance that the prisoners will get acquainted, and it is also very possible Possibly ventilated.As I write this, I believe this has been proven not to be a wild guess.However, it would be disrespectful to the system to express such suspicion at the time, so I tried my best to find out the deeds of the prisoners' repentance. But in doing so, I had great misgivings in my mind.I find that the contrition here is as much the same trendy style as the coat and the waistcoat in the tailor's shop.I have found that a large number of confessions are not only similar in nature, but also very little in wording (which makes me suspicious).I have found many foxes who slander all the grapes in the garden for not being able to get them, but almost none who do not steal the grapes that are available.Above all, I have found that the people with the most frank confessions are the most attractive objects; their self-righteousness, their vanity, their need for stimulation, their penchant for deceit (the experience of many almost unbelievable in my tastes), are the very motives and satisfactions of such confessions. On our rounds, I used to hear about a number 27, as if he was the most respected, a model prisoner.So, I decided to take my above judgment with a grain of salt until I met No. 27.I have also heard that the number 28 is also an unusual star, whose brilliance is unfortunately dimmed by the extraordinary brilliance of the number 27. I had heard enough of No. 27's fervent exhortations to all those around him, and how he kept writing beautiful letters to his mother (who he seemed to miss very much), that I was anxious to see him. I have to be patient, because the 27th is the grand finale.At last, however, we came to the door of his cell.Mr. Creeker, peeping in through a little hole in the door, told us with great admiration that he was reading a Book of Hymns. Immediately there was a rush of people, all wanting to look at No. 27 who was reading the "Hymnbook", and there were five or six layers of heads crowded in front of the small hole, blocking their sight.To eliminate this inconvenience, and at the same time to give us an opportunity to talk to the immaculate No. 27, Mr. Creeker ordered the door of the cell to be opened and No. 27 to come into the corridor.The order was executed.Traddles and I were astonished— Wasn't the repentant 27 we saw Uriah Heep or who? He also recognized us right away.Immediately after he came out--still wriggling as before--said: "Hello, Mr. Copperfield. Hello, Mr. Traddles." This greeting aroused the applause of the people present.I sort of got the feeling that people were touched that he had condescended to say hello to us. "Well, number twenty-seven," said Mr. Creeker with pity and admiration, "how are you doing today?" "I am very humble, sir!" replied Uriah Heep. "You've always been like this, Number 27," said Mr. Creeker. At this time, another gentleman asked with great concern: "Are you feeling comfortable?" "Yes, thank you, sir!" said Uriah Heep, looking in that direction, "I've always been more comfortable here than I was out. I now know my mistake, sir. It makes me comfortable." Several gentlemen were greatly moved, so another gentleman pressed forward with great emotion and asked, "What do you think of the beef?" "Thank you, sir," replied Uriah, looking in the direction of the new voice, "yesterday's beef was tougher than I like; but I will bear it. I have made mistakes, sir," Uriah patrolled with a humble smile and said, "I should endure this without complaining." Partly out of admiration for the noble spirit of No. 27, partly out of righteous indignation at the cook who made No. 27 complain (Mr. Creeker took note of this at the time), there was an instant murmur in the crowd. Number 27 stood among us as if it were the chief token of virtue in the Pantheon.In order to allow us new converts to receive more light at the same time, the order to release the 28th was also issued. I have been surprised a lot. When Mr. Li Timo came out with a good book, I just felt helpless and puzzled. "Number 28," said a bespectacled gentleman who hadn't spoken, "my good man, you complained about Coke last week. What happened after that?" "Thank you, sir," said Mr. Lytimer. "It's done better. If I may venture to say, sir, I don't think the milk boiled with cocoa is pure; but I know, sir, London. There are many adulterated milks, and pure milk is not easy to get.” I think that Mr. with glasses is competing with Mr. Creeker's 27 with No. 28, because they each have their own trump cards. "How's your mood, number twenty-eight?" repeated the interrogator with the spectacles. "Thank you, sir," replied Mr. Litimer. "I know my mistake now, sir. I am very disturbed when I think of the mistakes of my former companions, sir; but I trust they will be forgiven." of." "Are you happy yourself?" asked the questioner, nodding encouragingly. "Thank you very much, sir," replied Mr. Lytimer, "I am very happy." "What do you think, huh?" said the questioner again. "Well, if there is, tell me, number 28." "Sir," said Mr. Li Timer without raising his head, "if my eyes are not mistaken, one of the gentlemen present is my acquaintance in the early years. If that gentleman knows that my previous mistakes were all due to serving young people It may have done him good, sir, to live a thoughtless life, and because they led me into a swamp of vices against which I was powerless. I was presumptuous. It was for his own good. I woke up to my own past mistakes. I hope he will be repentant of the evils and sins he has a share in." I saw several gentlemen covering their eyes with their hands, as if they had just entered the temple. "That's what makes you admirable, Number 28," the questioner went on. "I thought you would, is there anything else?" "Sir," said Mr. Lytimer, raising his eyebrows (not his eyes) slightly, "there was a young woman who was lost, and I tried to save her, but failed. I beseech the gentleman to take my place if possible." Tell the young woman that I forgive her for what she has done to me; and I advise her to repent—if the gentleman will do me a little favor." "No doubt, the twenty-eighth," said the questioner, taking it up. "You must have touched that gentleman as—like all of us by such an impeccable statement of yours. We will leave you alone." "Thank you, sir," said Mr. Li Timer. "Gentlemen, I wish you peace, and I hope that you and your loved ones can find out your mistakes and correct them!" Speaking of this, No. 28 exchanged glances with Yulaiya, as if they already had a way of communication rather than being strangers to each other, and then he entered his cell.As his door closed, there was a murmur in the crowd that he was a most respectable character, and a wonderful one. "Here, number 27," Creeker led his character onto the vacated stage. "Is there anything someone else can do for you? If so, just tell me." "I humbly beg, sir," said Uriah, shaking his vicious head, "permit me to write to my mother again." "Certainly," said Mr. Creeker. "Thank you, sir! I'm worried about my mother. I'm afraid she's not safe." Someone accidentally asked what the reason was, but someone immediately stopped him in a low voice angrily and said, "Shut up!" "Always safe, sir," Uriah replied, twisting in the direction of the voice. "I wish my mother was in the same situation as me. If I hadn't come here, I would never have lived like I am now. I wish my mother could have been here. If everyone could get caught here Come, it must be beneficial to them all." This point of view has given people great satisfaction--more so, I believe, than ever. "Before I got here," said Uriah, with a peek at me (as if, if he could, he would do evil to the outside world to which we belong), "I always made mistakes, but now I realize that I wrong. There is much evil in the world outside. Mothers also have many sins.Except here—everywhere is full of sin. " "Have you really rehabilitated yourself?" said Mr. Creeker. "Oh yes, sir!" cried the promising penitent. "If you're going out, aren't you going to go back to the old ways?" someone else asked. "Oh, no, sir!" "Yes!" said Mr. Creeker. "That is very satisfactory. You greeted Mr. Copperfield, No. 27. Would you like to say anything more to him?" "You knew me before I came here and was born again, Mr. Copperfield," said Uriah, looking at me with such malevolence as I never saw in his face. "When you knew me, though I made mistakes, I was humble among the proud, humble among the rough--you yourself were rough with me, Mr. Copperfield, and Once, you slapped me across the face, you know." Everyone sympathized with him.A few angry eyes shot at me. "But I forgive you, Mr. Copperfield," said Uriah.He uses his forgiving nature as a title to develop the most evil and terrible nature that I don't want to write about. "I forgive everyone. It is inappropriate to hold a grudge against me. I forgive you magnanimously. I hope you will control your feelings in the future. I hope that Mr. W will repent, and Miss W and the whole gang of sinners will repent. You used to You have suffered, and I hope it has been good for you; but it would be better if you could come in here. Mr W had better come in here, and Miss W had better come in here too. My thanks to you, Mr. Copperfield. , and gentlemen here, the best hope is that you will be caught here. When I think of my mistakes in the past and how I feel at this moment, I believe that it will be beneficial to you. I Pity all those who were not brought in here!" He slipped back to his cell amidst praise.Traddles and I were greatly relieved when he was locked in. Such is the style of this penitence.I would like to know what case these two men came here for.This seemed to be the last thing they wanted to talk about.I greeted one of the two guards, who I suspected knew about the cases, and whose faces confirmed my suspicions. "You know," I said as we walked down the hallway, "what crime was the 27th's last 'mistake'?" The answer was that it was a bank case. "Extortion at the Bank of England?" I asked. "Yes, sir. Fraud, forgery, and other plots. He and some others. He abetted others. It was an elaborate scheme to defraud large sums of money. Sentenced and exiled for life. The 27th is that gang." The sweetest bird ever, almost got himself out of it completely; but not quite. Bank was just able to catch him-- It's just right. " "Do you know the crime on the 28th?" "Number 28," said my reporter, keeping his voice low and looking back from time to time as he walked down the corridor, lest Mr. Creeker or anyone else overhear him dare to say such a thing. Two pure and innocent people; "Number 28 is also an exile. He got an errand. On the night before he and a young master went abroad, he robbed the master of about 250 pounds in cash and some valuables. Because It was a dwarf who caught him, so I especially remember his case." "A what?" "A little woman. I forgot her name." "It's not Mochi, is it?" "It's her! He's about to escape, and he's wearing a flaxen wig and beard, and making up into a decent look you've never seen before, and he's about to go to America. At this moment, that little woman also arrives in Nan'an Puton, seeing him walking on the street, the little woman has sharp eyesight, recognized him immediately, ran between his legs, knocked him to the ground, and then grabbed him firmly." "Marvelous Miss Mouch!" "That's what you would have said if you had seen her standing in a chair on the witness stand at the opening of the trial, as I did," the friend said. "When she grabbed him, he scratched her face and beat her savagely. But she didn't let go until he was locked up. In fact, she held him so tight , the police had to take them away at the same time. She testified very bravely, was praised by the whole court, and was sent home with applause all the way. She said in court that even if he was Samson the Hercules, she One has to catch him too (because she knows all he's done). I believe so." I believe too.I have a lot of admiration for Miss Mouch for that. By this time we had seen everything there was to see.If it were pointed out to a man like the venerable Mr. Creeker that the 27th and 28th are the same as before, and have not been renewed; they are as they are now; Those who make such confessions in such a place; they at least understand as well as I do what it will do in sentencing them to exile; in short, it is a treacherous deceit through and through; it is useless.All we had to do was turn them over to their system and themselves, and we went home full of wonder. "Maybe it's a good thing to push a subject of hypocrisy, Traddles," said I, "because it's quick to be repulsive." "I hope so," replied Traddles.