Chapter 54 Chapter Fifty-Three

(The last chapter.) Almost all has been said about the fate of the characters in this biography.All that is left to the author of this book is a few simple sentences. Within three months, Ruth Fleming married Harry Maylie, in the country church that would henceforth be the young clergyman's workplace.On the same day, they moved into a happy new home. Mrs. Maylie also moved to live with her son and daughter-in-law, and prepared to spend the rest of her quiet years enjoying the greatest pleasure that a virtuous old man can experience--to savor the happiness of her two children, and not to waste her own life. , and constantly poured the warmest love and meticulous care into them.

After a full and careful investigation, the estate of the Lefort family (whether it is in the name of Monks or in the hands of his mother, the property has never increased in value), excluding the part that Monks has squandered, if in his Split equally with Oliver, a little over three thousand pounds each.Oliver, by his father's will, would have been entitled to the whole property; but Mr. Brownlow, unwilling to deprive the elder son of the opportunity of conversion, proposed such a distribution, which his younger protege gladly accepted. Meng Kesi, still wearing this pseudonym, took the share of property he got, and retired to a remote place in the New World.There, he quickly squandered his fortune, returned to his old business again, and was sentenced to a long prison term for another fraud charge, from which he died of a relapse.The remaining chief criminals of his friend Fagin's gang also died in foreign lands.

Mr. Brownlow adopted Oliver as his own son, and moved him and his old housekeeper to a new house, less than a mile from the vicarage of his old friends, satisfying Oliver's warm and sincere love. With the only hope remaining in his heart, he thus bound together a small community whose happiness seemed to be as high as it could be in this troubled world. Soon after the marriage of the two young men, the venerable doctor returned to Jets.There, apart from his old friends, he might have become whiny, or somehow irritable, but luckily he hadn't been born with such a virtue.For two or three months, he at first comforted himself by hinting that the air over there might not be suitable for him, but then he realized that the place was indeed quite different from the past for him, and he put his business Leaving it to the assistant, I rented a little bachelor house outside the village where my young friend was a priest, and all the discomfort was instantly cured.There he occupied himself with gardening, tree-planting, fishing, carpentry, and the like, all with his characteristic quickness.He later became the most knowledgeable authority in every respect, and his reputation spread throughout the neighbourhood.

The doctor had already had a good impression of Mr. Greenwig before he moved, and this stubborn gentleman paid him back.During the year, Mr. Greenwig came to visit many times.Every time he visits, Mr. Greenwig is full of energy to plant trees, fish and do woodworking.He did things differently, some more than ever before, and he was always citing his cherished quote to justify his own way.On Sundays, he routinely criticizes the sermon speeches in front of the young pastor, and afterwards always tells Mr. Rothbury very secretly that he thinks the pastor's sermons are very good, but he still doesn't say clearly. good.Mr. Brownlow often teased Mr. Greenwig, reminding him of his outdated prophecy about Oliver, and helping him recall the night when they sat with the pocket watch between them, waiting for the boy to return.Still, Mr. Greenwig insisted that he was on the whole right, and took Oliver's non-return as proof after all--a fact which always caused a fit of laughter and increased mirth.

Mr. Noah Claypole, who had received a royal pardon for his testimony against Fagin, did not think that his career was, after all, as secure as he had hoped, and that he could not find for a not too long a time a job without too much effort. way of making a living.After some consideration, he started the business of reporting, and he also had the style of a high-class man in his life.His solution was to wear decent clothes on weekdays, accompanied by Charlotte, the lady who fainted at the door of the merciful innkeeper, who spent a few pennies in brandy to put her to bed. After saving him, he reported on the hotel owner the next day and pocketed half of the fine.Mr. Claypole himself sometimes fainted, with good results.

① At that time, the law stipulated that before the end of the church service, hotels were not allowed to sell alcohol, and violators were fined, and whistleblowers were rewarded with half of the fine. Mr. and Mrs. Bumble, after being dismissed from office, were gradually reduced to poverty, and finally paupers in the poor-house where they had once lorded over others, and Mr. Bumble was heard to say that he had been so ill-lucked, He couldn't even thank God for separating him from his wife. Mr. Kels and Brittles held their old posts, though the former was balding, and Brittles, the older boy, was grizzled.They lived in Mr. Vicar's house, and served the family as well as Oliver, Mr. Brownlow, and Mr. Rosebery, to which the villagers do not know to this day which family they belonged to.

Master Charlie Bates, terrified by Sikes's crime, passed through a train of reflections whether the decent life was, after all, the best.Once he decided that this kind of life was the best for granted, he decided to say goodbye to the past and start a new life.For a period of time, he worked hard and suffered a lot.However, with his contented personality and determination to do good, he finally succeeded, first as a farmer's laborer, as a porter, and now as the happiest livestock farm in all Northamptonshire rookie. Now, the author's hands become a little trembling when I am about to complete my mission, and I really want to take the threads of these stories and weave a little longer.

I have been with the characters in the book for so long, but I am still willing to accompany them for another journey. I want to write about their joy and share their happiness.I really want the newlywed Ruth Maylie to show her full beauty and charm, and to sprinkle soft light on her path of life that is indifferent to the world, and to all the people who walk with her on this path in their bodies, and into their hearts.I would picture her the energy and joy of her winter firesides and her long, lively summer parties.At noon I would follow her across the hot fields, and as I walked on moonlit nights I would hear her sweet voice whisper.I want to watch her go out and do good deeds, and at home, smiling and doing her duty tirelessly.I will describe the happiness of her and her sister's orphan, who loved each other and spent hours together imagining what their lost loved ones looked like.I would call once more those happy little faces that gathered at her knees, and hear their merry chatter.I shall recall in my memory the sound of laughter, and the tears of sympathy that glistened in her tender blue eyes.All this, and thousands of looks and smiles, countless thoughts and words—I want to—record them all.

Day after day, how Mr. Brownlow continues to enrich the mind of his adopted son with rich knowledge. As the child's nature continues to develop, the seeds of hope have broken through the ground, and it is likely to become the kind of person the old man hopes to see Mr. Brownlow's fondness for him grew ever greater--and how he kept finding in the boy those traits of an old friend, which called up long-lost memories in his own heart, and brought sweetness and sorrow And warmth—two orphans have gone through hardships, how they learned lessons, treated others kindly, respected and loved each other, and sincerely thanked the God who protected and preserved them—all these things need not be repeated.As I have said, they were indeed very happy.If there is no strong love, no benevolence, if there is no gratitude to God whose creed is mercy and love for all living beings is the highest symbol, happiness will never be obtained.

In the churchyard in that old country stands a white marble tombstone on which to this day bears only one name: Agnes.There is no coffin in the tomb, and it may be many years before another name is engraved on it.However, the tomb can not stop the love of the deceased's former friends. If they often return to the world after death, and their souls visit the holy places of love everywhere, I believe that the ghost of Agnes sometimes hovers in this sacred corner.Even though this corner is in the church, and she is weak and has lost her way, I still believe that she will come here.