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Hello and welcome to Storytime for Grown Ups. I'm Faith Moore and this season we're reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. Each episode I'll read a few chapters from the book, pausing from time to time to give brief explanations so it's easier to follow along. It's like an audiobook with built in notes. So brew a pot of tea, find a cozy chair and settle in. It's story time.
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Hello, I am back. I am finally back and I am so happy and excited to be here with you. I am back for the rest of this book, which is really not that many chapters. But we're here. I'm here for it. I hope you're here for it too. And thank you so much for your patience while I was gone. I really appreciated getting your letters. I'm going to read some of those to you today and I actually have
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so much to tell you.
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First of all, just a reminder that tea time is this week, Wednesday, July 29th at 8pm Eastern. That will be over in our online community, the Drawing Room, if you'd like to join us, but you're not yet a member or you're not yet Landed Gentry. Just scroll into the show notes, click on the link, it'll give you some more information. You can decide if you to sign up. I hope that you will. It's going to be so fun to get to talk about where we are in the book so far. There's really not that much left to go, so if you'd like to join us, please do. And I can't wait to chat with you. It's like a voice chat that we have once a month where I can hear you and you can hear me. You can talk or you can just listen. And we always have a really lovely time. So I hope that you'll join us again. It's Wednesday, this Wednesday, July 29th at 8:00pm Eastern in the drawing room Wednesday, which you can find by scrolling into the show notes, which are the description of this episode and clicking the link that's there. And that will take you to a page where you can sign up if you would like to. If you're already signed up, then you can find us in the drawing room in the Tea Time channel. So I hope to see you there. I have two other things to tell you and I'm very excited about both of them. One of them is that now that I'm back, now that we're in the final few chapters and we're winding down to the end, I would like to announce that There is now day David Copperfield Merch in the Merch store. So we have a new design specifically just for David Copperfield. We've had a few designs related to David Copperfield. We have Janet Donkeys and we have Barcus is willing. But this one just is David Copperfield. I think it turned out really well. I hope you like it. I was waiting for a while to reveal it because it has something on it that would have been a spoiler, I think, or sort of, sort of a spoiler. So take a look at it. If you scroll into the show notes again, click on the Merch store and then you'll see it as one of the options there in the store and you can get it on shirts, on mugs, on sweatshirts and notebooks and stickers. There's all kinds of stuff. So check that out. And you can check out all the other stuff that we've got in the merch store as well if that's of interest to you. But again, there is David Copperfield specific merch in the merch store now. So I hope that you'll just take a look even if you don't buy it, go check it out, see what it looks like and you know, let me know what you think. But also please pick something up and wear it around and tell everyone you know about Storytime for Grown Ups and David Copperfield and all the wonderful books that we've read. So that's the one thing. And then the other thing is I wanted to let you know when the trailer is going to drop for our September book. So the last episode of David Copperfield, the last chapter, which is chapter 64, is going to air on August 17th. Then we will have our conclusion episode which will happen on August 20th and then there will be a two week break and we will come back on Thursday, September 3rd, 3rd with our next book. So in order to know what the next book is, you have to keep your eye out or I guess your ear out for the trailer which will drop into your podcast player on August 8th, that is a Saturday. It will happen if you are subscribed and only if you are subscribed. If you are not subscribed, you'll have to go looking for it. So make sure that you're subscribed to this show and then it will appear in your podcast player on Saturday, August 8th and that will let you know what book it's going to be that we are going to start on September 3rd, that Thursday when we come back after our two week break. Once we finish David Copperfield. So I have already created the trailer. I have put it up and primed it ready to go on August 8th. And so I'm very, very, very excited. I cannot wait for you guys to find out what the book is. When you do find out, please do write to me and let me know what your thoughts are about it. And I will remind you again that it's coming so you can just check for it in your player. And that way as we wind up David Copperfield, you won't be too sad. I know we'll be sad. I am sad. I'm already sad. And it's going to be hard to let go of this book. I can feel it already. But it will be a little less hard knowing what is coming next. So that's why I'm going to give you that trailer before David Copperfield officially ends. So check out that. I'm really looking forward to hearing what you guys think about our September 2nd selection. Okay, those are all the things that I wanted to tell you. I've been waiting and dying to get back to you so that I could tell you all this stuff and to get back to this book. So we're going to do that now. I have a couple of letters that I want to just read to you about the chapters that we read while I was gone. I don't have too much to say. Mostly I just want to let you guys hear what you were all saying. I got to hear all of your amazing comments, so I just want to share them with with you so that you can know what's going on out there in the world of Storytime for Grown ups. So we'll do that and then I will read some questions about Chapter 57, which is the chapter we just read, and we'll talk about that for a little while and then we'll get into chapter 58. So let's just begin by reminding ourselves what happened in chapter 57. So here is the recap. Okay, so where we left off.
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It is time for Mr. Peggotty, Emily and the Macabre to leave for Australia. David decides that the kindest thing that he can do is not tell Mr. Peggotty and Emily that Ham is dead. He tells Mr. Macawer to try to shield him from the news.
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And Mr. Macawer agrees to do that.
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They all gather along with Miss Betsy,
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Peggy and Agnes for a final evening together. And they drink the health of the immigrants. And Mrs. McCawver gives a long speech about the wonderful things Mr.
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Macabre will do in Australia.
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And how he will become very wealthy and return with his children to take his proper place in society. While this is happening, Mr. Macawer is arrested again, but they pay the fine and he comes back to them. Eventually it's time for them to leave and David and Peggy go on board
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the Big to bid them all farewell.
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David learns that Mr. Peggy has taken Martha with them, and he's very touched by this.
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He tells Mr. Peggy Ham's final message,
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and Mr. Peggotty gives David messages to
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send back to Ham, which makes David
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very sad since he knows that Ham
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will never get them.
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Peggy is devastated to say goodbye to
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her brother and leans on David as
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they say goodbye to everyone and the ship leaves.
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They all wave goodbye and the ship
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sets off for Australia. David says that as the night falls,
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the darkness falls over him as well.
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Okay, so the first thing I want to do is just read you some comments. I've got 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Seven comments. They're all kind of short, but seven comments that I want to read to you that I got while I was away. And basically these are just comments about Ham and Steerforth dying. Because there was kind of an outpouring of emotion about that. And so I want to share that with you so that you don't miss out on that, because I got to experience it. I want you to experience experience it, too. So I'm just going to read those, but I don't have anything to say. I think we covered everything in the intros that I did during those chapters. I didn't get any additional comments that I felt like were completely different. So I'm not going to do that. But I am going to just read you these so that we can all grieve for Ham and Steerforth together. And then I will move on to questions about Chapter 57. So here is the first one. It's from Bonnie Von Wald. She says, oh, no. Ham died to try to save Steerforth. This is so sad. I was baking muffins and my hands just flopped to my sides with the injustice and defeat of it all. The next one is from Ben Moser. He says, omg, Ham died trying to save Steerforth. Even if he'd known who he was trying to save, would it have made a difference to him? Dickens was an awesome writer. This one's from Amanda B. She says, we were warned from the very first paragraph that it was going to be bad.
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This chapter hurt so much, I had
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to listen to the last bit twice. Dickens was such a master. He dropped hints But I didn't catch it.
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I was shocked about Steerforth.
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The next one's from Deli. She says, I felt from the beginning of this chapter that the storm was going to take out somebody important. And I thought it would be Ham or Steerforth. I wasn't expecting both. This one's from Maureen Aiken. She said, I'm certain you hated pre recording this episode and not having the satisfaction of responding to everyone's comments and questions. What a tempest indeed to have Ham pass away in a failed attempt to save the life of the man who stole his love. What? No wonder this is such a haunting memory for David, especially coming on the
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heels of losing Dora.
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Would it have been better or worse if Steerforth had been rescued and Ham pass? How does this family cope? The next one's from Ursula Polly. She says, oh, wow. I had to listen to this episode twice to make sure I didn't miss anything. Ham unknowingly sacrifices his life to save Steerforth. What sa. Steerforth had it coming, I'm sure, but kind, pure hearted, selfless Ham. Both men who were tied to Emily die on the same day. Of course, it's a core memory for David.
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What else must he endure? Sorely.
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His life will turn around soon. I kept reminding myself that he will have a daughter someday. Oh, my goodness. And the last one comes from Walter Rosenberger. He says, if, as you say, Dickens is tying up plot lines, chapter 55 is a heck of a knot. To have Ham die courageously trying to reach Steerforth, who also succumbs comes to include the destruction of the Peggy homestead, all in one horrific extended scene set on a spot of childhood. Innocence is brilliant with juxtaposition. Okay, so I just wanted to read you those. I wanted you to get to feel what I felt and feel all the emotion, the outpouring of emotion that came after that chapter. It's really beautiful. It's so beautiful to me that you guys are feeling what you're feeling, because that is exactly what is supposed to happen with these books. We think of these books as old and dusty tomes that were meant to analyz or that we read in school or something, but they're not. They're stories. And we're meant to feel. We're meant to love these characters, hate these characters, grieve for and with these characters. And so I'm so happy and excited that you're doing that. So I wanted to share that with you. But. Okay, now I want to read five comments that have to do with chapter 57 and then we'll talk about that for a bit. The first one comes from Cali Ball. She says he took Martha with him. I was hoping he would, but since she hadn't been mentioned in so long, I was worried that it wouldn't happen. Oh, the tears. The next one comes from Maria. She says, well, if we had any doubts that Mr. Peggy is a Christ figure, that last scene dispelled all of them with the glow of the sunset surrounding him and Emily. The next one is from Diane. How sweet that Martha is going with the Peggety family.
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The two girls will appreciate each other's support.
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I don't understand how uriah keeps having Mr. Micawber arrested. I thought that after Mr. Macawer revealed all of Uriah's wrongdoing that Uriah would be in jail or something and not able to cause any more trouble. I also thought that his debt had been paid off. So how does Uriah keep having him arrested? The next one comes from our online community, the drawing room. This person goes by the handle @HavocJack and he quotes, he says there could be no doubt about the kindness of keeping it a secret. End quote. So he's talking about David keeping it a secret from Mr. Peggotty, that ham is dead and Havoc. Jack says, I have doubts. And there was a really great conversation actually back and forth about this in the drawing room. So if you're a member or you'd like to become a member, go and check that out, but I'll talk about that in a minute. And the but the last one also comes from the online community and this person goes by the handle @Bonnie. She says, I absolutely love how Mr. Macawer embraces and prepares for his role in Australia. All the little details Dickens gives about the way Mrs. M and the children are wrapped up like packaged meats, spoons they've tethered to themselves, the little metal cups Mr. M uses rather than the set of glasses on the wall. I was laughing so hard. I can 100% see Mr. M thriving in Australia though. It's like it's the perfect setting for him. I feel like there could be a whole spin off series that follows the adventures of the macabre in Australia. I have a feeling it would be great reading. All right, so right, the emigrants, they're off to Australia, including Martha. So it's another one of these endings, another really big goodbye. You know, I' been saying for the last few chapters now that Dickens is wrapping up all of the plot threads that he's been spinning out all this time, and that eventually we're gonna be
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left with just David.
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And I think that's pretty much where we are actually at this point. Not entirely. There are still a few questions. I think there are a few characters we want to make sure we come back to, like Traddles and Sophie. Will they ever get married? What will happen to Agnes, that sort of thing. But with the departure of the immigrant ship, we have tied up a lot of plot threads. The macabre Mr. Peggotty and Emily, Mrs. Gummage and Martha, they are all on the ship. So of course we want to know how it's going to turn out for them in Australia. So that's still up in the air, but they're on their way now. So that essentially wraps that up. And we've wrapped up Steerforth's plot thread and Ham's plot thread. We sorted out Ms. Betsy's husband. So in a sense, everything else is
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falling away, leaving just David.
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Right, David, whose life is kind of up in the air. How will his plot thread, his life wrap up? We really don't know. That's the bit that's left to discover now. It's really brilliant how Dickens has done this, I think. So let us also wrap up our comments about the immigrants and what's going on here. And let's start with the macabre. So I totally agree with Bonnie here. Their preparations for their lives in Australia are hilarious. And they are very much them, right? They are essentially leaping head first into this sort of play acting about what they think their lives are going to be like in Australia. Here is what David says about what Mr. Macawer is doing. It says, Mr. Macawer, I must observe, in his adaptation of himself to a new state of society, had acquired a bold, buccaneering air, not absolutely lawless, but defensive and prompt. One might have supposed him a child of the wilderness, long accustomed to live out of the confines of civilization and about to return to his native wild. And here is what it says about Mrs. Micawber. It says, I found Mrs. Micawber in the closest and most uncompromising of bonnets made fast under the chin.
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And in a shawl which tied her
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up as I had been tied up when my aunt first received me like a bundle and was secured behind at the waist in a strong knot. Okay? So they've got this picture in their minds of this rugged new life that they're off to begin, and they've dressed themselves up to play these new parts that they imagine they're gonna play, which I think is very apt. They're always these sort of playing roles, aren't they? They're highly delusional about their status and what sort of opportunities are available to them. And these sorts of preparations are much more enjoyable to them than the actual work of starting from the bottom and working your way up or whatever. I mean, Mrs. Macawer is almost the more delusional of the two of them. She always thinks that Mr. Macawer is going to take every profession or opportunity by storm. Right. Here's what she says. Mr. Macabre's is not a common case. Mr. Micawber is going to a distant country expressly in order that he may be fully understood and appreciated. For the first time. I wish Mr. Micawber to take his stand upon that vessel's prow and firmly say, this country I am come to conquer. Have you honors, have you riches, have you posts of profitable pecuniary emolument? Let them be brought forward, they are mine. Okay, so that is both very sweet, very loyal and also totally unhinged. But I think that we can wholeheartedly wish them well. And I agree with Bonnie that the less structured, like more open ended life that they could lead in Australia, it does seem more to their tastes and to their natures. So it is possible that they really will be finally successful. Not to mention the fact that if they stay in England, Mr. Macawer is going to keep getting arrested. Okay, so they're better off in Australia just on that point alone. Which brings me to Diane's question about what is actually going on with these arrests. So Uriah loaned Mr. Macawer a bunch of money during his time when he was working at Wakefield and Heap. Essentially Uriah orchestrated it so that Mr. Macawer's salary wasn't enough for him to live on.
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So Mr. Macawer had to ask for
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loans which Uriah readily gave him so that Mr. Macawer would feel that he was always in Uriah's debt and had to do whatever he said. So that was Uriah's way of controlling Mr. Macabre. All the money that Uriah stole from Mr. Wakefield and from Mr. Wakefield's clients that has been found by Traddles and it has been paid back. But the money that uriah loaned to Mr. McCawver has been spent, right? Mr. McCober doesn't have it. So the deal that Traddles made with Uriah was that he wouldn't have him arrested if he paid back everything and then kind of went away and never returned. So Uriah's still out there somewhere and he has clearly submitted his claims to the court for the money that Mr. Macawer owes him, kind of as a way to get back at Mr. Macawer. And that means that officers of the court are on the lookout for Mr. Macawer for these various sums of money that were loaned at various times. Each loan is its own case. So even though Ms. Betsy and David and everyone else, they pay off the debt every time Mr. Macabre is arrested, there are still other, like, warrants out for his arrest. Uriah isn't involved in every arrest. He just submitted everything to the court and now the court is taking the matter into its own hands. So we don't know where Uriah is and he's not the one that's doing the arrest. So eventually everything would get paid off. But until then, Mr. McCawver is going to keep getting arrested if he stays in England. So it is a good thing that he is gone. Let's turn then now to Mr. Peggotty and Emily and let's address this issue of David choosing not to tell them that Ham is dead. So when I read this bit, right, the part where he says that he's not going to tell them, it also gives me pause. I, personally, I think I would want to know that my adopted son was dead. Even if it plunged me into a terrible grief. I wouldn't want to learn later that everyone knew it but me. So I get where Havoc Jack is coming from here. But I think in this case we, we need to just take Dickens's word for it here, that it is a kindness. You know, David presents it as a difficult thing to do, but the right thing to do. Here's what he says. One thing more I had to do before yielding myself to the shock of these emotions. It was to conceal what had occurred from those who were going away and to dismiss them on their voyage in happy ignorance. In this, no time was to be lost. So remember that they are going on a very long voyage, they are going very far away and they're potentially never coming back. I think the idea is that this in and of itself is going to be a really hard task for them, that they need all of their strength and all of their mental faculty to get through it. And also that Mr. Peggotty feels that he's finally achieved his greatest wish, which is to save his niece from the harsh scrutiny of the world and to take her to a better place where she can be happy. And David doesn't want to interfere in
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that he feels it would be wrong
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to add sorrow to the situation. He wants them to have this moment and get settled. And then when things are maybe less present and less powerful, he can tell them or someone can tell them about what happened. And Mr. Peggy can learn that. Again, I don't know that that's what I would want. But I think we do need to view this as a kindness that David is doing for them. Another way in which David has truly grown into a man and is able to shoulder the burden of Ham's death without putting it onto Mr. Peggotty's shoulders. And I think another piece of evidence that Dickens really means for us to think of this is a kindness is that when David tells Traddles that he is keeping this from them, Traddles agrees that it is a kindness. David says, I had told Traddles of the terrible event and it had greatly shocked him. But there could be no doubt of the kindness of keeping it a secret. And he had come to help me in this last service. Okay, so even though it may not be what we would do, I think that we are meant to feel that it is the right thing, the manly thing for David to have done. Because what he's doing essentially is taking all the grief onto the himself in order to spare Mr. Peggotty. I mean, this thing where he tells Mr. Peggotty Ham's parting message and then promises to send Mr. Peggotty's message back to Ham.
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It's really heartbreaking.
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He says I told him what the noble spirit that was gone had given me in charge to say at parting.
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It moved him deeply.
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But when he charged me in return with many messages of affection and regret for those deaf ears, he moved me more meaning. He has to be the final resting place. He, David, has to be the final resting place for those good wishes from Mr. Peggotty. He has to know that they will go nowhere and just take it. So the idea is, even if it's
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not how we might handle it, the
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idea is that David is taking something on so that Mr. Peggotty doesn't have to. And I think that any lightening of Mr. Peggotty's load is a good thing. Because as Maria says, Mr. Peggotty has truly been a Christ like figure. You know, many of you have compared him to the good shepherd from the Bible, right? Who leaves him his flock of sheep to go looking for the one that has gone astray. We've talked about him as a figure of legend, a saint, Christlike. And I think he is all of those things and this final moment on the ship as they all sail away, it really does paint this picture of Emily kind of being embraced and forgiven by more than mortal hearts, let's say. So it says.
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Then I saw her at her uncle's
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side and trembling on his shoulder. He pointed to us with an eager hand, and she saw us and waved her last goodbye to me. I, Emily, beautiful and drooping, cling to him with the utmost trust of thy bruised heart, for he has clung to
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thee with all the might of his great love.
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And of course, the last thing that Mr. Peggotty has done in his Christlike way is to take Martha with them. As Callie says in her letter, this is so moving, because Martha has no one.
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She is the lowest of the low.
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She's the social pariah. But she believed in Mr. Peggy and in Emily, and she is now being rewarded, right? This girl that Mr. Peggy once couldn't even stand to have in the same room as his niece, she has now been accepted by him and loved by him. Because Mr. Peggy understands that Emily, too, is just the same as Martha and that both of them deserve forgiveness and deserve love. Here's what David says. He touched the younger woman I have mentioned on the shoulder, and Martha stood before me. Heaven bless you, you good man, cried I. You take her with you.
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She answered for him with a burst of tears.
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I could speak no more at that time, but I wrung his hand.
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And if ever I have loved and honored any man, I loved and honored
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that man in my soul. Okay, so like I was saying at the beginning of this intro, the ship leaves. It's carrying so many of the people that have populated this book. And it leaves behind David. And here is what he says. The night had fallen on the Kentish Hills when we were rowed ashore and
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fallen darkly upon me.
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Okay, so what is to become of David? Where does he go now that everyone else is getting their. Their just desserts right? Where are his? What will the end of David's story look like? Well, there is only one way to find out, which is, of course, to keep reading. So we're gonna do that. Please write to me. Please tell me all your thoughts. Ask me all your questions. It's faith k.moore.com. that's the website. And then you click on Contact and fill in that form. There it goes right to my email. And if you don't want to do that, you can just scroll into the show notes. That same link is there. I'm a little behind on my emails. I usually try to get to you within a week, but because of this summer I am a little behind. But I will get to you. I'm working through all the emails in chronological order so I will get to you. But I also will read your emails about about this chapter and choose from them for next time. So please do write in. Please also do click on the link to the Merch store and check out the David Copperfield merch and please join us on Wednesday for tea time. I hope to see you there.
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All right, let's get started with chapter 58 of David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. It's story time. Chapter 58 absence it was a long and gloomy night that gathered on me, haunted by the ghosts of many hopes, of many dear remembrances, many errors, many unavailing sorrows and regrets. I went away from England, not knowing even then how great the shock was that I had to bear. I left all who were dear to me and went away and believed that I had borne it and it was past. As a man upon a field of battle will receive a mortal hurt, and scarcely know that he has struck. So I, when I was left alone with my undisciplined heart, had no conception of the wound with which it had to strive. The knowledge came upon me not quickly, but little by little and grain by grain. The desolate feeling with which I went abroad deepened and widened hourly. At first it was a heavy sense of loss and sorrow, wherein I could distinguish little else. By imperceptible degrees. It became a hopeless consciousness of all that I had lost, love, friendship, interest, of all that had been shattered, my first trust, my first affection, the whole airy castle of my life, of all that remained a ruined blank and waste, lying wide around me, unbroken to the dark horizon. If my grief were selfish, I did not know it to be so. I mourned for my child wife, taken from her blooming world so young. I mourned for him who might have won the love and admiration of thousands as he had won mine long ago. I mourned for the broken heart that had found rest in the stormy sea, and for the wandering remnants of the simple home where I had heard the night wind blowing when I was a child. From the accumulated sadness into which I fell, I had at length no hope of ever issuing again. I roamed from place to place, carrying my burden with me everywhere. I felt its whole weight now, and I drooped beneath it, and I said in my heart that it could never be lightened. When this despondency was at its worst, I believed That I should die. Sometimes I thought that I would like to die at home and actually turned back on my road that I might get there soon. At other times I passed on farther away from city to city, seeking I know not what and trying to leave I know not what behind. It is not in my power to retrace, one by one, all the weary phases of distress, of mind through which I passed. There are some dreams that can only be imperfectly and vaguely described.
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Described.
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And when I oblige myself to look back on this time of my life, I seem to be recalling such a dream. I see myself passing on among the novelties of foreign towns, palaces, cathedrals, temples, pictures, castles, tombs, fantastic streets, the old abiding places of history and fancy, as a dreamer might, bearing my painful load through all and hardly conscious of the objects as they fade before me. Me, listlessness to everything but brooding sorrow, was the night that fell on my undisciplined heart. Let me look up from it as at last I did thank heaven, and from its long, sad, wretched dream to dawn. For many months I traveled with this ever darkening cloud upon my mind. Some blind reasons that I had for not returning home home. Reasons, then struggling within me vainly for more distinct expression, kept me on my pilgrimage. Sometimes I had proceeded restlessly from place to place, stopping nowhere. Sometimes I had lingered long in one spot. I had had no purpose, no sustaining soul within me anywhere. I was in Switzerland. I had come out of Italy over one of the great passes of the Alps and had since wandered with a guide among the byways of the mountain mountains. If those awful solitudes had spoken to my heart, I did not know it. I had found sublimity and wonder in the dread heights and precipices, in the roaring torrents and the wastes of ice and snow. But as yet they had taught me nothing else. I came one evening before sunset down into a valley where I was to rest in the course of my descent to it, by the winding track along the mountain side from which I saw it shining far below, I think the some long unwonted sense of beauty and tranquillity, some softening influence, awakened by its peace, moved faintly in my breast. I remember pausing once with a kind of sorrow that was not at all oppressive, not quite despairing. I remember almost hoping that some better change was possible within me. I came into the valley as the evening sun was shining on the remote heights of snow that closed it in like eternal clouds. Clouds, the bases of the mountains forming the gorge in which the little village lay, were richly green, and high above this gentler vegetation grew forests of dark fir, cleaving the wintry snowdrift wedge like and stemming the avalanche. Above these were range upon range of craggy steeps, gray rock, bright ice, and smooth verdure, specks of pasture, all gradually blending with the crowning snow.
- [31:36]
B
Dotted here and there on the mountain
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side, each tiny dot a home, were lonely wooden cottages so dwarfed by the towering heights that they appeared too small for toys. So did even the clustered village in the valley with its wooden bridge across the stream. Where the stream tumbled over broken rocks and roared away among the trees in the quiet air there was a sound of distant singing shepherd voices. But as one bright evening cloud floated midway along the mountain side, I could almost have believed it came from there and was not earthly music. All at once in this serenity, great nature spoke to me and soothed me to lay down my weary head upon the grass and weep as I had not wept yet since Dora died. I had found a packet of letters awaiting me but a few minutes before and had strolled out of the village to read them while my supper was making ready. Other packets had missed me, and I had received none for a long time beyond a line or two to say that I was well and had arrived at such a place. I had not had fortitude or constancy to write a letter since I left home. The packet was in my hand. I opened it and read the writing of Agnes. She was happy and useful, was prospering as she had hoped. That was all she told me of herself, the rest referred to me. She gave me no advice, she urged no duty on me she only told me in her own fervent manner what her trust in me was. She knew, she said, how much a nature as mine would turn affliction to good would she knew how trial and emotion would exalt and strengthen it. She was sure that in my every purpose I should gain a firmer and a higher tendency through the grief I had undergone. She who so gloried in my fame and so looked forward to its augmentation well knew that I would labor on she knew that in me sorrow could not be weakness, but must be strength, as the endurance of my childish days had done its part to make me what I was, so greater calamities would nerve me on to be yet better than I was and so, as they had taught me, would I teach others. She commended me to God, who had taken my innocent darling to his rest, and in her sisterly affection cherished me always and Was always at my side, Go where I would, Proud of what I had done, but infinitely prouder yet of what I was reserved to do. I put the letter in my breast and thought what I had been an hour ago When I heard the voices die away. And saw the quiet evening cloud grow dim and all the colours in the valley fade. And the golden snow upon the mountain tops Become a remote part of the pale night sky. Yet felt that the night was passing from my mind and all its shadows clearing. There was no name for the love I bore her, dearer to me henceforward than ever until then. I read her letter many times. I wrote to her before I slept. I told her that I had been in sore need of her help, that without her I was not and I never had been what she thought me, but that she inspired me to be that. And I would try. I did try. In three months more a year would have passed since the beginning of my sorrow. I determined to make no resolutions until the expiration of those three months. But to try. I lived in the valley and its neighborhood all the time. The three months gone, I resolved to remain away from home for some time longer, to settle myself for the present in Switzerland, which was growing dear to me in the remembrance of that evening. To resume my pen to work, I resorted humbly Whither Agnes had commended me. I sought out nature, never sought in vain, and I admitted to my breast the human interest I had lately shrunk from. It was not long before I had almost as many friends in the valley as in Yarmouth. And when I left it before the winter set in for Geneva and came back in the spring, Their cordial greetings had a homely sound to me, Although they were not conveyed in English words. I worked early and late, patiently and hard. I wrote a story with a purpose, Growing not remotely out of my experience, and sent it to Traddles. And he arranged for its publication very advantageously for me. Me and the tidings of my growing reputation Began to reach me from travelers whom I encountered by chance. After some rest and change, I fell to work in my old ardent way On a new fancy which took strong possession of me. As I advanced in the execution of this task, I felt it more and more and roused my utmost energy to do it well. This was my third work of fiction. It was not half written when, in an interval of rest, I thought of returning home for a long time, Though, studying and working patiently, I had accustomed myself to robust exercise. My health severely impaired. When I left, England was quite restored. I had seen much, I had been in many countries, and I hope I had improved my store of knowledge. I have now recalled all that I think it needful to recall here of this term of absence. With one reservation, I have made it thus far with no purpose of suppressing any of my thoughts. For, as I have elsewhere said, this narrative is my written memory. I have desired to keep the most secret current of my mind apart, and to the last I enter on it now. I cannot so completely penetrate the mystery of my own heart as to know when I began to think that I might have set its earliest and brightest hopes on Agnes. I cannot say at what stage of my grief it first became associated with the reflection that in my wayward boyhood I had thrown away the treasure of her love. I believe I may have heard some whisper of that distant thought in the old unhappy loss or want of something never to be realized of which I had been sensible. But the thought came into my mind as a new reproach and new regret when I was left so sad and lonely in the world. If at that time I had been much with her, I should in the weakness of my desolation, have betrayed this. It was what I remotely dreaded when I was first impelled to stay away from England. I could not have borne to lose the smallest portion of her sisterly affectionate. Yet in that betrayal I should have set a constraint between us hitherto unknown. Meaning. He realizes now that he is in love with Agnes. But he's stayed away from her all this time because he doesn't want to ruin the friendship that they have. By admitting this. I could not forget that the feeling with which she now regarded me had grown up in my own free choice and course that if she had ever loved me with another love, as I sometimes thought the time was when she might have done so, I had cast it away. It was nothing now that I had accustomed myself to think of her when we were both mere children, as one who was far removed from my wild fancies, I had bestowed my passionate tenderness upon another object. And what I might have done, I had not done. And what Agnes was to me, I and her own noble heart had made her meaning. He sees now that once he might have had a chance with Agnes, but
- [39:43]
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he put her squarely in the friend zone. And now he's not sure if she
- [39:46]
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would want a relationship with him. In the beginning of the change that gradually worked in me when I tried to get a better understanding of myself and be a better man, I did glance through some indefinite Probation to a period when I might, might possibly hope to cancel the mistaken past and to be so blessed as to marry her. But as time wore on, this shadowy prospect faded and departed from me. If she had ever loved me, then I should hold her the more sacred, remembering the confidences I had reposed in her, her knowledge of my errant heart, the sacrifice she must have made to be my friend and sister, her and the victory she had won. If she had never loved me, could I believe that she would love me now? I had always felt my weakness in comparison with her constancy and fortitude, and now I felt it more and more. Whatever I might have been to her or she to me, if I had been more worthy of her long ago, I was not now and she was not. The time was past. I had let it go by and had deservedly lost her. That I suffered much in these contentions, that they filled me with unhappiness and remorse, and yet that I had a sustaining sense that it was required of me in right and honour to keep away from myself with shame. The thought of turning to the dear girl in the withering of my hopes, from whom I had frivolously turned when they were bright and fresh, which consideration was at the root of every thought I had concerning her, is all equally true. I made no effort to conceal from myself now that I loved her, that I was devoted to her. But I brought the assurance home to myself that it was now too late and that our long subsisting relation must be undisturbed. I had thought much and often of my Dora's shadowing out to me what might have happened in those years that were destined not to triumph us. I had considered how the things that never happen are often as much realities to us in their effects as those that are accomplished. The very years she spoke of were realities now for my correction, and would have been one day, a little later perhaps, though we had parted in our earliest folly, I endeavoured to convert what might have been between myself and Agnes into a means of making me more self denying, more resolved, more conscious of myself and my defects and errors. Thus, through the reflection that it might have been, I arrived at the conviction that it could never be. These, with their perplexities and inconsistencies, were the shifting quicksands of my mind from the time of my departure to the time of my return home three years afterwards. Three years had elapsed since the sailing of the emigrant ship, when, at that same hour of sunset and in the same place I stood on the deck of the packet vessel that brought me home, looking on the rosy water where I had seen the image of that ship reflected three years long in the aggregate, though short as they went by. And home was very dear to me and Agnes too. But she was not mine. She was never to be mine. She might have been, but that was past. Thank you so much for listening. I'd love to know what you thought of the chapters. Is there anything you'd like me to clarify? Did something particularly interest you? Please go to my website, faith k moore.com click on contact and send me your questions and thoughts. Or you can click on the link in the Show Notes to contact me. I'll feature one or two of your entries at the start of the next episode. Speaking of links, don't forget to take a look at the other links in the Show Notes. You can learn more about me, check out our Merch store, or become a member of the Storytime for Grown Ups online community.
- [43:58]
B
Before I go, I'd like to ask a quick favor.
- [44:01]
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This is an independent podcast. It's produced, recorded and marketed by me, so I need your help. Spread the word about the show by posting about it on social media or
- [44:11]
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texting a link to your friends.
- [44:13]
A
Subscribe, tap those five stars and leave a positive review wherever you're listening. If you are able to support the
- [44:20]
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show financially, there's a link in the Show Notes to make a donation.
- [44:23]
A
I would really, really appreciate it. Alright everyone, story time is over. To be continued.