ions
have never had enough of life's sun to develop them, are loud in their
moralisings over parents and children too, and cry that the very ties of
nature are disregarded. Natural affections and instincts, my dear sir,
are the most beautiful of the Almighty's works, but like other beautiful
works of His, they must be reared and fostered, or it is as natural that
they should be wholly obscured, and that new feelings should usurp
their place, as it is that the sweetest productions of the earth, left
untended, should be choked with weeds and briers. I wish we could be
brought to consider this, and remembering natural obligations a little
more at the right time, talk about them a little less at the wrong one.'

After this, brother Charles, who had talked himself into a great heat,
stopped to cool a little, and then continued:

'I dare say you are surprised, my dear sir, that I have listened to
your recital with so little astonishment. That is easily explained. Your
uncle has been here this morning.'

Nicholas coloured, and drew back a step or two.

'Yes,' said the old gentleman, tapping his desk emphatically, 'here, in
this room. He would listen neither to reason, feeling, nor justice. But
brother Ned was hard upon him; brother Ned, sir, might have melted a
paving-stone.'

'He came to--' said Nicholas.

'To complain of you,' returned brother Charles, 'to poison our ears with
calumnies and falsehoods; but he came on a fruitless errand, and went
away with some wholesome truths in his ear besides. Brother Ned, my dear
My Nickleby--brother Ned, sir, is a perfect lion. So is Tim Linkinwater;
Tim is quite a lion. We had Tim in to face him at first, and Tim was at
him, sir, before you could say "Jack Robinson."'

'How can I ever thank you for all the deep obligations you impose upon
me every day?' said Nicholas.

'By keeping silence upon the subject, my dear sir,' returned brother
Charles. 'You shall be righted. At least you shall not be wronged.
Nobody belonging to you shall be wronged. They shall not hurt a hair of
your head, or the boy's head, or your mother's head, or your sister's
head. I have said it, brother Ned has said it, Tim Linkinwater has said
it. We have all said it, and we'll all do it. I have seen the father--if
he is the father--and I suppose he must be. He is a barbarian and a
hypocrite, Mr Nickleby. I told him, "You are a barbarian, sir." I did.
I said, "You're a barbarian, sir." And I'm glad of it, I