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fortnight cannot, however limited our ideas, be considered
remunerative.’
We were all agreed upon that.
‘Then,’ said Mrs. Micawber, who prided herself on taking
a clear view of things, and keeping Mr. Micawber straight
by her woman’s wisdom, when he might otherwise go a lit-
tle crooked, ‘then I ask myself this question. If corn is not to
be relied upon, what is? Are coals to be relied upon? Not at
all. We have turned our attention to that experiment, on the
suggestion of my family, and we find it fallacious.’
Mr. Micawber, leaning back in his chair with his hands
in his pockets, eyed us aside, and nodded his head, as much
as to say that the case was very clearly put.
‘The articles of corn and coals,’ said Mrs. Micawber, still
more argumentatively, ‘being equally out of the question,
Mr. Copperfield, I naturally look round the world, and say,
‘What is there in which a person of Mr. Micawber’s talent
is likely to succeed?’ And I exclude the doing anything on
commission, because commission is not a certainty. What
is best suited to a person of Mr. Micawber’s peculiar tem-
perament is, I am convinced, a certainty.’
Traddles and I both expressed, by a feeling murmur, that
this great discovery was no doubt true of Mr. Micawber,
and that it did him much credit.
‘I will not conceal from you, my dear Mr. Copperfield,’
said Mrs. Micawber, ‘that I have long felt the Brewing busi-
ness to be particularly adapted to Mr. Micawber. Look at
Barclay and Perkins! Look at Truman, Hanbury, and Bux-
ton! It is on that extensive footing that Mr. Micawber, I know

David Copperfield