The name of Mr. Vholes, preceded by the legend Ground-Floor, isinscribed upon a door-post in Symond's Inn, Chancery Lane--alittle, pale, wall-eyed, woebegone inn like a large dust-binn oftwo compartments and a sifter. It looks as if Symond were asparing man in his way and constructed his inn of old buildingmaterials which took kindly to the dry rot and to dirt and allthings decaying and dismal, and perpetuated Symond's memory withcongenial shabbiness. Quartered in this dingy hatchmentcommemorative of Symond are the legal bearings of Mr. Vholes.
Mr. Vholes's office, in disposition retiring and in situationretired, is squeezed up in a corner and blinks at a dead wall.
Three feet of knotty-floored dark passage bring the client to Mr.
Vholes's jet-black door, in an angle profoundly dark on thebrightest midsummer morning and encumbered by a black bulk-head ofcellarage staircase against which belated civilians generallystrike their brows. Mr. Vholes's chambers are on so small a scalethat one clerk can open the door without getting off his stool,while the other who elbows him at the same desk has equalfacilities for poking the fire. A smell as of unwholesome sheepblending with the smell of must and dust is referable to thenightly (and often daily) consumption of mutton fat in candles andto the fretting of parchment forms and skins in greasy drawers.
The atmosphere is otherwise stale and close. The place was lastpainted or whitewashed beyond the memory of man, and the twochimneys smoke, and there is a loose outer surface of sootevervwhere, and the dull cracked windows in their heavy frames havebut one piece of character in them, which is a determination to bealways dirty and always shut unless coerced. This accounts for thephenomenon of the weaker of the two usually having a bundle offirewood thrust between its jaws in hot weather.
Mr. Vholes is a very respectable man. He has not a large business,but he is a very respectable man. He is allowed by the greaterattorneys who have made good fortunes or are making them to be amost respectable man. He never misses a chance in his practice,which is a mark of respectability. He never takes any pleasure,which is another mark of respectability. He is reserved andserious, which is another mark of respectability. His digestion isimpaired, which is highly respectable. And he is making hay of thegrass which is flesh, for his three daughters. And his father isdependent on him in the Vale of Taunton.
The one great principle of the English law is to make business foritself. There is no other principle distinctly, certainly, andconsistently maintained through all its narrow turnings. Viewed bythis light it becomes a coherent scheme and not the monstrous mazethe laity are apt to think it. Let them but once clearly perceivethat its grand principle is to make business for itself at theirexpense, and surely they will cease to grumble.
But not perceiving this quite plainly--only seeing it by halves ina confused way--the laity sometimes suffer in peace and pocket,with a bad grace, and DO grumble very much. Then thisrespectability of Mr. Vholes is brought into powerful play againstthem. "Repeal this statute, my good sir?" says Mr. Kenge to asmarting client. "Repeal it, my dear sir? Never, with my consent.
Alter this law, sir, and what will be the effect of your rashproceeding on a class of practitioners very worthily represented,allow me to say to you, by the opposite attorney in the case, Mr.
Vholes? Sir, that class of practitioners would be swept from theface of the earth. Now you cannot afford--I will say, the socialsystem cannot afford--to lose an order of men like Mr. Vholes.
Diligent, persevering, steady, acute in business. My dear sir, Iunderstand your present feelings against the existing state ofthings, which I grant to be a little hard in your case; but I cannever raise my voice for the demolition of a class of men like Mr.
Vholes." The respectability of Mr. Vholes has even been cited withcrushing effect before Parliamentary committees, as in thefollowing blue minutes of a distinguished attorney's evidence.
"Question (number five hundred and seventeen thousand eight hundredand sixty-nine): If I understand you, these forms of practiceindisputably occasion delay? Answer: Yes, some delay. Question:
And great expense? Answer: Most assuredly they cannot be gonethrough for nothing. Question: And unspeakable vexation? Answer:
I am not prepared to say that. They have never given ME anyvexation; quite the contrary. Question: But you think that theirabolition would damage a class of practitioners? Answer: I have nodoubt of it. Question: Can you instance any type of that class?
Answer: Yes. I would unhesitatingly mention Mr. Vholes. He wouldbe ruined. Question: Mr. Vholes is considered, in the profession,a respectable man? Answer: "--which proved fatal to the inquiryfor ten years--"Mr. Vholes is considered, in the profession, a MOSTrespectable man."So in familiar conversation, private authorities no lessdisinterested will remark that they don't know what this age iscoming to, that we are plunging down precipices, that now here issomething else gone, that these changes are death to people likeVholes--a man of undoubted respectability, with a father in theVale of Taunton, and three daughters at home. Take a few stepsmore in this direction, say they, and what is to become of Vholes'sfather? Is he to perish? And of Vholes's daughters? Are they tobe shirt-makers, or governesses? As though, Mr. Vholes and hisrelations being minor cannibal chiefs and it being proposed toabolish cannibalism, indignant champions were to put the case thus:
Make man-eating unlawful, and you starve the Vholeses!
In a word, Mr. Vholes, with his three daughters and his father inthe Vale of Taunton, is continually doing duty, like a piece oftimber, to shore up some decayed foundation that has become apitfall and a nuisance. And with a great many people in a greatmany instances, the question is never one of a change from wrong toright (which is quite an extraneous consideration), but is alwaysone of injury or advantage to that eminently respectable legion,Vholes.
The Chancellor is, within these ten minutes, "up" for the longvacation. Mr. Vholes, and his young client, and several blue bagshastily stuffed out of all regularity of form, as the larger sortof serpents are in their first gorged state, have returned to theofficial den. Mr. Vholes, quiet and unmoved, as a man of so muchrespectability ought to be, takes off his close black gloves as ifhe were skinning his hands, lifts off his tight hat as if he werescalping himself, and sits down at his desk. The client throws hishat and gloves upon the ground--tosses them anywhere, withoutlooking after them or caring where they go; flings himself into achair, half sighing and half groaning; rests his aching head uponhis hand and looks the portrait of young despair.
"Again nothing done!" says Richard. "Nothing, nothing done!""Don't say nothing done, sir," returns the placid Vholes. "That isscarcely fair, sir, scarcely fair!""Why, what IS done?" says Richard, turning gloomily upon him.
"That may not be the whole question," returns Vholes, "The questionmay branch off into what is doing, what is doing?""And what is doing?" asks the moody client.
Vholes, sitting with his arms on the desk, quietly bringing thetips of his five right fingers to meet the tips of his five leftfingers, and quietly separating them again, and fixedly and slowlylooking at his client, replies, "A good deal is doing, sir. Wehave put our shoulders to the wheel, Mr. Carstone, and the wheel isgoing round.""Yes, with Ixion on it. How am I to get through the next four orfive accursed months?" exclaims the young man, rising from hischair and walking about the room.
"Mr. C.," returns Vholes, following him close with his eyeswherever he goes, "your spirits are hasty, and I am sorry for it onyour account. Excuse me if I recommend you not to chafe so much,not to be so impetuous, not to wear yourself out so. You shouldhave more patience. You should sustain yourself better.""I ought to imitate you, in fact, Mr. Vholes?" says Richard,sitting down again with an impatient laugh and beating the devil'stattoo with his boot on the patternless carpet.
"Sir," returns Vholes, always looking at the client as if he weremaking a lingering meal of him with his eyes as well as with hisprofessional appetite. "Sir," returns Vholes with his inwardmanner of speech and his bloodless quietude, "I should not have hadthe presumption to propose myself as a model for your imitation orany man's. Let me but leave the good name to my three daughters,and that is enough for me; I am not a self-seeker. But since youmention me so pointedly, I will acknowledge that I should like toimpart to you a little of my--come, sir, you are disposed to callit insensibility, and I am sure I have no objection--sayinsensibility--a little of my insensibility.""Mr. Vholes," explains the client, somewhat abashed, "I had nointention to accuse you of insensibility.""I think you had, sir, without knowing it," returns the equableVholes. "Very naturally. It is my duty to attend to yourinterests with a cool head, and I can quite understand that to yourexcited feelings I may appear, at such times as the present,insensible. My daughters may know me better; my aged father mayknow me better. But they have known me much longer than you have,and the confiding eye of affection is not the distrustful eye ofbusiness. Not that I complain, sir, of the eye of business beingdistrustful; quite the contrary. In attending to your interests, Iwish to have all possible checks upon me; it is right that I shouldhave them; I court inquiry. But your interests demand that Ishould be cool and methodical, Mr. Carstone; and I cannot beotherwise--no, sir, not even to please you."Mr. Vholes, after glancing at the official cat who is patientlywatching a mouse's hole, fixes his charmed gaze again on his youngclient and proceeds in his buttoned-up, half-audible voice as ifthere were an unclean spirit in him that will neither come out norspeak out, "What are you to do, sir, you inquire, during thevacation. I should hope you gentlemen of the army may find manymeans of amusing yourselves if you give your minds to it. If youhad asked me what I was to do during the vacation, I could haveanswered you more readily. I am to attend to your interests. I amto be found here, day by day, attending to your interests. That ismy duty, Mr. C., and term-time or vacation makes no difference tome. If you wish to consult me as to your interests, you will findme here at all times alike. Other professional men go out of town.
I don't. Not that I blame them for going; I merely say I don't go.
This desk is your rock, sir!"Mr. Vholes gives it a rap, and it sounds as hollow as a coffin.
Not to Richard, though. There is encouragement in the sound tohim. Perhaps Mr. Vholes knows there is.
"I am perfectly aware, Mr. Vholes," says Richard, more familiarlyand good-humouredly, "that you are the most reliable fellow in theworld and that to have to do with you is to have to do with a manof business who is not to be hoodwinked. But put yourself in mycase, dragging on this dislocated life, sinking deeper and deeperinto difficulty every day, continually hoping and continuallydisappointed, conscious of change upon change for the worse inmyself, and of no change for the better in anything else, and youwill find it a dark-looking case sometimes, as I do.""You know," says Mr. Vholes, "that I never give hopes, sir. I toldyou from the first, Mr. C., that I never give hopes. Particularlyin a case like this, where the greater part of the costs comes outof the estate, I should not be considerate of my good name if Igave hopes. It might seem as if costs were my object. Still, whenyou say there is no change for the better, I must, as a bare matterof fact, deny that.""Aye?" returns Richard, brightening. "But how do you make it out?""Mr. Carstone, you are represented by--""You said just now--a rock.""Yes, sir," says Mr. Vholes, gently shaking his head and rappingthe hollow desk, with a sound as if ashes were falling on ashes,and dust on dust, "a rock. That's something. You are separatelyrepresented, and no longer hidden and lost in the interests ofothers. THAT'S something. The suit does not sleep; we wake it up,we air it, we walk it about. THAT'S something. It's not allJarndyce, in fact as well as in name. THAT'S something. Nobodyhas it all his own way now, sir. And THAT'S something, surely."Richard, his face flushing suddenly, strikes the desk with hisclenched hand.
"Mr. Vholes! If any man had told me when I first went to JohnJarndyce's house that he was anything but the disinterested friendhe seemed--that he was what he has gradually turned out to be--Icould have found no words strong enough to repel the slander; Icould not have defended him too ardently. So little did I know ofthe world! Whereas now I do declare to you that he becomes to methe embodiment of the suit; that in place of its being anabstraction, it is John Jarndyce; that the more I suffer, the moreindignant I am with him; that every new delay and every newdisappointment is only a new injury from John Jarndyce's hand.""No, no," says vholes. "Don't say so. We ought to have patience,all of us. Besides, I never disparage, sir. I never disparage.""Mr. Vholes," returns the angry client. "You know as well as Ithat he would have strangled the suit if he could.""He was not active in it," Mr. Vholes admits with an appearance ofreluctance. "He certainly was not active in it. But however, buthowever, he might have had amiable intentions. Who can read theheart, Mr. C.!""You can," returns Richard.
"I, Mr. C.?""Well enough to know what his intentions were. Are or are not ourinterests conflicting? Tell--me--that!" says Richard, accompanyinghis last three words with three raps on his rock of trust.
"Mr. C.," returns Vholes, immovable in attitude and never winkinghis hungry eyes, "I should be wanting in my duty as yourprofessional adviser, I should be departing from my fidelity toyour interests, if I represented those interests as identical withthe interests of Mr. Jarndyce. They are no such thing, sir. Inever impute motives; I both have and am a father, and I neverimpute motives. But I must not shrink from a professional duty,even if it sows dissensions in families. I understand you to benow consulting me professionally as to your interests? You are so?
I reply, then, they are not identical with those of Mr. Jarndyce.""Of course they are not!" cries Richard. "You found that out longago.""Mr. C.," returns Vholes, "I wish to say no more of any third partythan is necessary. I wish to leave my good name unsullied,together with any little property of which I may become possessedthrough industry and perseverance, to my daughters Emma, Jane, andCaroline. I also desire to live in amity with my professionalbrethren. When Mr. Skimpole did me the honour, sir--I will not saythe very high honour, for I never stoop to flattery--of bringing ustogether in this room, I mentioned to you that I could offer noopinion or advice as to your interests while those interests wereentrusted to another member of the profession. And I spoke in suchterms as I was bound to speak of Kenge and Carboy's office, whichstands high. You, sir, thought fit to withdraw your interests fromthat keeping nevertheless and to offer them to me. You broughtthem with clean hands, sir, and I accepted them with clean hands.
Those interests are now paramount in this office. My digestivefunctions, as you may have heard me mention, are not in a goodstate, and rest might improve them; but I shall not rest, sir,while I am your representative. Whenever you want me, you willfind me here. Summon me anywhere, and I will come. During thelong vacation, sir, I shall devote my leisure to studying yourinterests more and more closely and to making arrangements formoving heaven and earth (including, of course, the Chancellor)after Michaelmas term; and when I ultimately congratulate you,sir," says Mr. Vholes with the severity of a determined man, "whenI ultimately congratulate you, sir, with all my heart, on youraccession to fortune--which, but that I never give hopes, I mightsay something further about--you will owe me nothing beyondwhatever little balance may be then outstanding of the costs asbetween solicitor and client not included in the taxed costsallowed out of the estate. I pretend to no claim upon you, Mr. C.,but for the zealous and active discharge--not the languid androutine discharge, sir: that much credit I stipulate for--of myprofessional duty. My duty prosperously ended, all between us isended."Vholes finally adds, by way of rider to this declaration of hisprinciples, that as Mr. Carstone is about to rejoin his regiment,perhaps Mr. C. will favour him with an order on his agent fortwenty pounds on account.
"For there have been many little consultations and attendances oflate, sir," observes Vholes, turning over the leaves of his diary,"and these things mount up, and I don't profess to be a man ofcapital. When we first entered on our present relations I statedto you openly--it is a principle of mine that there never can betoo much openness between solicitor and client--that I was not aman of capital and that if capital was your object you had betterleave your papers in Kenge's office. No, Mr. C., you will fi............