The Circ.u.mlocution Office was (as everybody knows without being told) the most important Department under Government. No public business of any kind could possibly be done at any time without the acquiescence of the Circ.u.mlocution Office. Its finger was in the largest public pie, and in the smallest public tart. It was equally impossible to do the plainest right and to undo the plainest wrong without the express authority of the Circ.u.mlocution Office. If another Gunpowder Plot had been discovered half an hour before the lighting of the match, n.o.body would have been justified in saving the parliament until there had been half a score of boards, half a bushel of minutes, several sacks of official memoranda, and a family-vault full of ungrammatical correspondence, on the part of the Circ.u.mlocution Office.
This glorious establishment had been early in the field, when the one sublime principle involving the difficult art of governing a country, was first distinctly revealed to statesmen. It had been foremost to study that bright revelation and to carry its shining influence through the whole of the official proceedings. Whatever was required to be done, the Circ.u.mlocution Office was beforehand with all the public departments in the art of perceiving--HOW NOT TO DO IT.
Through this delicate perception, through the tact with which it invariably seized it, and through the genius with which it always acted on it, the Circ.u.mlocution Office had risen to overtop all the public departments; and the public condition had risen to be--what it was.
It is true that How not to do it was the great study and object of all public departments and professional politicians all round the Circ.u.mlocution Office. It is true that every new premier and every new government, coming in because they had upheld a certain thing as necessary to be done, were no sooner come in than they applied their utmost faculties to discovering How not to do it. It is true that from the moment when a general election was over, every returned man who had been raving on hustings because it hadn"t been done, and who had been asking the friends of the honourable gentleman in the opposite interest on pain of impeachment to tell him why it hadn"t been done, and who had been a.s.serting that it must be done, and who had been pledging himself that it should be done, began to devise, How it was not to be done. It is true that the debates of both Houses of Parliament the whole session through, uniformly tended to the protracted deliberation, How not to do it. It is true that the royal speech at the opening of such session virtually said, My lords and gentlemen, you have a considerable stroke of work to do, and you will please to retire to your respective chambers, and discuss, How not to do it. It is true that the royal speech, at the close of such session, virtually said, My lords and gentlemen, you have through several laborious months been considering with great loyalty and patriotism, How not to do it, and you have found out; and with the blessing of Providence upon the harvest (natural, not political), I now dismiss you. All this is true, but the Circ.u.mlocution Office went beyond it.
Because the Circ.u.mlocution Office went on mechanically, every day, keeping this wonderful, all-sufficient wheel of statesmanship, How not to do it, in motion. Because the Circ.u.mlocution Office was down upon any ill-advised public servant who was going to do it, or who appeared to be by any surprising accident in remote danger of doing it, with a minute, and a memorandum, and a letter of instructions that extinguished him. It was this spirit of national efficiency in the Circ.u.mlocution Office that had gradually led to its having something to do with everything.
Mechanicians, natural philosophers, soldiers, sailors, pet.i.tioners, memorialists, people with grievances, people who wanted to prevent grievances, people who wanted to redress grievances, jobbing people, jobbed people, people who couldn"t get rewarded for merit, and people who couldn"t get punished for demerit, were all indiscriminately tucked up under the foolscap paper of the Circ.u.mlocution Office.
Numbers of people were lost in the Circ.u.mlocution Office. Unfortunates with wrongs, or with projects for the general welfare (and they had better have had wrongs at first, than have taken that bitter English recipe for certainly getting them), who in slow lapse of time and agony had pa.s.sed safely through other public departments; who, according to rule, had been bullied in this, over-reached by that, and evaded by the other; got referred at last to the Circ.u.mlocution Office, and never reappeared in the light of day. Boards sat upon them, secretaries minuted upon them, commissioners gabbled about them, clerks registered, entered, checked, and ticked them off, and they melted away. In short, all the business of the country went through the Circ.u.mlocution Office, except the business that never came out of it; and its name was Legion.
Sometimes, angry spirits attacked the Circ.u.mlocution Office. Sometimes, parliamentary questions were asked about it, and even parliamentary motions made or threatened about it by demagogues so low and ignorant as to hold that the real recipe of government was, How to do it. Then would the n.o.ble lord, or right honourable gentleman, in whose department it was to defend the Circ.u.mlocution Office, put an orange in his pocket, and make a regular field-day of the occasion. Then would he come down to that house with a slap upon the table, and meet the honourable gentleman foot to foot. Then would he be there to tell that honourable gentleman that the Circ.u.mlocution Office not only was blameless in this matter, but was commendable in this matter, was extollable to the skies in this matter. Then would he be there to tell that honourable gentleman that, although the Circ.u.mlocution Office was invariably right and wholly right, it never was so right as in this matter. Then would he be there to tell that honourable gentleman that it would have been more to his honour, more to his credit, more to his good taste, more to his good sense, more to half the dictionary of commonplaces, if he had left the Circ.u.mlocution Office alone, and never approached this matter. Then would he keep one eye upon a coach or crammer from the Circ.u.mlocution Office sitting below the bar, and smash the honourable gentleman with the Circ.u.mlocution Office account of this matter. And although one of two things always happened; namely, either that the Circ.u.mlocution Office had nothing to say and said it, or that it had something to say of which the n.o.ble lord, or right honourable gentleman, blundered one half and forgot the other; the Circ.u.mlocution Office was always voted immaculate by an accommodating majority.
Such a nursery of statesmen had the Department become in virtue of a long career of this nature, that several solemn lords had attained the reputation of being quite unearthly prodigies of business, solely from having practised, How not to do it, as the head of the Circ.u.mlocution Office. As to the minor priests and acolytes of that temple, the result of all this was that they stood divided into two cla.s.ses, and, down to the junior messenger, either believed in the Circ.u.mlocution Office as a heaven-born inst.i.tution that had an absolute right to do whatever it liked; or took refuge in total infidelity, and considered it a flagrant nuisance.
The Barnacle family had for some time helped to administer the Circ.u.mlocution Office. The t.i.te Barnacle Branch, indeed, considered themselves in a general way as having vested rights in that direction, and took it ill if any other family had much to say to it. The Barnacles were a very high family, and a very large family. They were dispersed all over the public offices, and held all sorts of public places. Either the nation was under a load of obligation to the Barnacles, or the Barnacles were under a load of obligation to the nation. It was not quite unanimously settled which; the Barnacles having their opinion, the nation theirs.
The Mr t.i.te Barnacle who at the period now in question usually coached or crammed the statesman at the head of the Circ.u.mlocution Office, when that n.o.ble or right honourable individual sat a little uneasily in his saddle by reason of some vagabond making a tilt at him in a newspaper, was more flush of blood than money. As a Barnacle he had his place, which was a snug thing enough; and as a Barnacle he had of course put in his son Barnacle Junior in the office. But he had intermarried with a branch of the Stiltstalkings, who were also better endowed in a sanguineous point of view than with real or personal property, and of this marriage there had been issue, Barnacle junior and three young ladies. What with the patrician requirements of Barnacle junior, the three young ladies, Mrs t.i.te Barnacle nee Stiltstalking, and himself, Mr t.i.te Barnacle found the intervals between quarter day and quarter day rather longer than he could have desired; a circ.u.mstance which he always attributed to the country"s parsimony. For Mr t.i.te Barnacle, Mr Arthur Clennam made his fifth inquiry one day at the Circ.u.mlocution Office; having on previous occasions awaited that gentleman successively in a hall, a gla.s.s case, a waiting room, and a fire-proof pa.s.sage where the Department seemed to keep its wind. On this occasion Mr Barnacle was not engaged, as he had been before, with the n.o.ble prodigy at the head of the Department; but was absent. Barnacle Junior, however, was announced as a lesser star, yet visible above the office horizon.
With Barnacle junior, he signified his desire to confer; and found that young gentleman singeing the calves of his legs at the parental fire, and supporting his spine against the mantel-shelf. It was a comfortable room, handsomely furnished in the higher official manner; an presenting stately suggestions of the absent Barnacle, in the thick carpet, the leather-covered desk to sit at, the leather-covered desk to stand at, the formidable easy-chair and hearth-rug, the interposed screen, the torn-up papers, the dispatch-boxes with little labels sticking out of them, like medicine bottles or dead game, the pervading smell of leather and mahogany, and a general bamboozling air of How not to do it.
The present Barnacle, holding Mr Clennam"s card in his hand, had a youthful aspect, and the fluffiest little whisker, perhaps, that ever was seen. Such a downy tip was on his callow chin, that he seemed half fledged like a young bird; and a compa.s.sionate observer might have urged that, if he had not singed the calves of his legs, he would have died of cold. He had a superior eye-gla.s.s dangling round his neck, but unfortunately had such flat orbits to his eyes and such limp little eyelids that it wouldn"t stick in when he put it up, but kept tumbling out against his waistcoat b.u.t.tons with a click that discomposed him very much.
"Oh, I say. Look here! My father"s not in the way, and won"t be in the way to-day," said Barnacle Junior. "Is this anything that I can do?"
(Click! Eye-gla.s.s down. Barnacle Junior quite frightened and feeling all round himself, but not able to find it.)
"You are very good," said Arthur Clennam. "I wish however to see Mr Barnacle."
"But I say. Look here! You haven"t got any appointment, you know," said Barnacle Junior.
(By this time he had found the eye-gla.s.s, and put it up again.)
"No," said Arthur Clennam. "That is what I wish to have."
"But I say. Look here! Is this public business?" asked Barnacle junior.
(Click! Eye-gla.s.s down again. Barnacle Junior in that state of search after it that Mr Clennam felt it useless to reply at present.)
"Is it," said Barnacle junior, taking heed of his visitor"s brown face, "anything about--Tonnage--or that sort of thing?"
(Pausing for a reply, he opened his right eye with his hand, and stuck his gla.s.s in it, in that inflammatory manner that his eye began watering dreadfully.)
"No," said Arthur, "it is nothing about tonnage."
"Then look here. Is it private business?"
"I really am not sure. It relates to a Mr Dorrit."
"Look here, I tell you what! You had better call at our house, if you are going that way. Twenty-four, Mews Street, Grosvenor Square. My father"s got a slight touch of the gout, and is kept at home by it."
(The misguided young Barnacle evidently going blind on his eye-gla.s.s side, but ashamed to make any further alteration in his painful arrangements.)
"Thank you. I will call there now. Good morning." Young Barnacle seemed discomfited at this, as not having at all expected him to go.
"You are quite sure," said Barnacle junior, calling after him when he got to the door, unwilling wholly to relinquish the bright business idea he had conceived; "that it"s nothing about Tonnage?"
"Quite sure."
With such a.s.surance, and rather wondering what might have taken place if it HAD been anything about tonnage, Mr Clennam withdrew to pursue his inquiries.
Mews Street, Grosvenor Square, was not absolutely Grosvenor Square itself, but it was very near it. It was a hideous little street of dead wall, stables, and dunghills, with lofts over coach-houses inhabited by coachmen"s families, who had a pa.s.sion for drying clothes and decorating their window-sills with miniature turnpike-gates. The princ.i.p.al chimney-sweep of that fashionable quarter lived at the blind end of Mews Street; and the same corner contained an establishment much frequented about early morning and twilight for the purchase of wine-bottles and kitchen-stuff. Punch"s shows used to lean against the dead wall in Mews Street, while their proprietors were dining elsewhere; and the dogs of the neighbourhood made appointments to meet in the same locality. Yet there were two or three small airless houses at the entrance end of Mews Street, which went at enormous rents on account of their being abject hangers-on to a fashionable situation; and whenever one of these fearful little coops was to be let (which seldom happened, for they were in great request), the house agent advertised it as a gentlemanly residence in the most aristocratic part of town, inhabited solely by the elite of the beau monde.
If a gentlemanly residence coming strictly within this narrow margin had not been essential to the blood of the Barnacles, this particular branch would have had a pretty wide selection among, let us say, ten thousand houses, offering fifty times the accommodation for a third of the money.
As it was, Mr Barnacle, finding his gentlemanly residence extremely inconvenient and extremely dear, always laid it, as a public servant, at the door of the country, and adduced it as another instance of the country"s parsimony.
Arthur Clennam came to a squeezed house, with a ramshackle bowed front, little dingy windows, and a little dark area like a damp waistcoat-pocket, which he found to be number twenty-four, Mews Street, Grosvenor Square. To the sense of smell the house was like a sort of bottle filled with a strong distillation of Mews; and when the footman opened the door, he seemed to take the stopper out.
The footman was to the Grosvenor Square footmen, what the house was to the Grosvenor Square houses. Admirable in his way, his way was a back and a bye way. His gorgeousness was not unmixed with dirt; and both in complexion and consistency he had suffered from the closeness of his pantry. A sallow flabbiness was upon him when he took the stopper out, and presented the bottle to Mr Clennam"s nose.
"Be so good as to give that card to Mr t.i.te Barnacle, and to say that I have just now seen the younger Mr Barnacle, who recommended me to call here."
The footman (who had as many large b.u.t.tons with the Barnacle crest upon them on the flaps of his pockets, as if he were the family strong box, and carried the plate and jewels about with him b.u.t.toned up) pondered over the card a little; then said, "Walk in."
It required some judgment to do it without b.u.t.ting the inner hall-door open, and in the consequent mental confusion and physical darkness slipping down the kitchen stairs. The visitor, however, brought himself up safely on the door-mat.
Still the footman said "Walk in," so the visitor followed him. At the inner hall-door, another bottle seemed to be presented and another stopper taken out. This second vial appeared to be filled with concentrated provisions and extract of Sink from the pantry. After a skirmish in the narrow pa.s.sage, occasioned by the footman"s opening the door of the dismal dining-room with confidence, finding some one there with consternation, and backing on the visitor with disorder, the visitor was shut up, pending his announcement, in a close back parlour.
There he had an opportunity of refreshing himself with both the bottles at once, looking out at a low blinding wall three feet off, and speculating on the number of Barnacle families within the bills of mortality who lived in such hutches of their own free flunkey choice.
Mr Barnacle would see him. Would he walk up-stairs? He would, and he did; and in the drawing-room, with his leg on a rest, he found Mr Barnacle himself, the express image and presentment of How not to do it.
Mr Barnacle dated from a better time, when the country was not so parsimonious and the Circ.u.mlocution Office was not so badgered. He wound and wound folds of white cravat round his neck, as he wound and wound folds of tape and paper round the neck of the country. His wristbands and collar were oppressive; his voice and manner were oppressive. He had a large watch-chain and bunch of seals, a coat b.u.t.toned up to inconvenience, a waistcoat b.u.t.toned up to inconvenience, an unwrinkled pair of trousers, a stiff pair of boots. He was altogether splendid, ma.s.sive, overpowering, and impracticable. He seemed to have been sitting for his portrait to Sir Thomas Lawrence all the days of his life.
"Mr Clennam?" said Mr Barnacle. "Be seated."
Mr Clennam became seated.
"You have called on me, I believe," said Mr Barnacle, "at the Circ.u.mlocution--" giving it the air of a word of about five-and-twenty syllables--"Office."
"I have taken that liberty."
Mr Barnacle solemnly bent his head as who should say, "I do not deny that it is a liberty; proceed to take another liberty, and let me know your business."
"Allow me to observe that I have been for some years in China, am quite a stranger at home, and have no personal motive or interest in the inquiry I am about to make."
Mr Barnacle tapped his fingers on the table, and, as if he were now sitting for his portrait to a new and strange artist, appeared to say to his visitor, "If you will be good enough to take me with my present lofty expression, I shall feel obliged."