I suppose that there are few things more demoralising to an assimilative mind than the association with places of a demoralising tendency. Which I do not intend as a profound remark, but as the fruit of actual experience. At any rate I know that when I first entered the Bankruptcy Court, I felt a profound pity for the listless, hopeless, slouching-looking figures I saw haunting its purlieus. But when I went up this morning, for my preliminary examination, I felt as listless, hopeless, and slouching as any of them—I had enlisted in the great army of the insolvent, and no matter how void of offence my conscience might be, in that I had not wilfully or in extravagance defrauded any man, the taint of debt, the virus of unutterable meanness which makes the Chinese commit suicide, bowed my head, rounded my shoulders, and robbed me of my self-respect.

I only had to wait about two hours this morning before my turn came on. When it did, and I was summoned to stand before an inquisitor, I received a sudden shock. For, behold, the dread Rhadamanthus to whom I must unveil my most secret sorrows and troubles was a young man whom I had often seen coming up Victoria Street with a similar individual, and had loathed from the depths of my soul. His garb was immaculate as regards the latest fashion, his collar as high as human endurance would permit, his trousers creased in exactly the right line, turned up to exactly the proper height; he slouched at exactly the angle prescribed by his class (or the class to which he wished to appear to belong), and, crowning iniquity, he wore a monocle in his left eye. Altogether a "Johnny" of the Johnniest. And he was my inquisitor!

He took several huge sheets of paper (printed forms of course), and began what I saw was a stereotyped set of questions with a bored air and yet an unpersonal way with him, almost as if he were addressing a penny-in-the-slot machine, which was rather helpful. I was a long time before him, and I answered his questions to the best of my ability, but often I fear with a desire to get the examination over rather than with any keen attention to accuracy. It was a curious business altogether, perfunctory in the extreme, and I had then no idea what my answers would be used for. I learned later.

When released I sought my faithful friend, who advised me to get home with all speed, for that an official appraiser would call upon me that afternoon, and it would be well that I should meet him. So I returned with haste, reaching home a long time before the individual indicated. I must say I awaited him with considerable trepidation, for I gathered that he would be of much the same character as several of the same class I had sorrowfully made acquaintance with before.

This is not the least of the sorrows which beset the poor, the manner in which their goods are distrained upon for a small debt, and furniture honestly worth twenty times the sum due is taken, and I was going to say sold—but it is never sold then, it is given away to a gang of heartless rogues, who make it their business to fatten upon the robbery of the poor within the law. In my case, however, there was no fear that they would take more than I owed. My furniture had cost me well over £100, and the two counters in the shop would easily have sold second-hand for £10, but I doubt if the whole of my chattels put together could, even if sold in a shop to the public, have been made to realise more than £30. It was not good furniture when I bought it, and though some of it was not now very old, it stood revealed as what it was, shoddy-built, of unseasoned wood, varnished instead of polished, upholstered with American cloth or sham velvet, and stuffed with unclassable rubbish.

My visitor arrived at about three o'clock, and to my relief he was quite a respectable and civil man. He quietly announced his errand as if it was a duty he was sorry to perform, and therefore I hastened to assure him that I could readily dissociate a man from his employment. Thus his work went on very smoothly, and was exceedingly soon over. Then he closed his book and turning to me said, "You haven't got much." I smiled wanly, and made no reply for obvious reasons. Then he went on to inform me that although he was an appraiser of the Court his inventory was only taken for the official purpose of checking the accounts of the firm to whom they would presently assign the task of dealing with it. And bade me a courteous good day, leaving me wishing that the whole degrading business was over.

Still I must say in strict justice that so far as it had gone, and remembering the immense number of formalities to be gone through, there had been scarcely any delay, but that I think was largely due to my personal interest in the matter and the energy I put into it. And now I was, all unknowing, come nearly to the end of the miserable business as far as my comfort and relief was concerned. I had one more quiet Sunday at the shop, spent in the usual way, and on Monday morning there arrived a man like a jovial costermonger of the better class out for a holiday—one of those men who are born comedians, whom to look at is to laugh, unless one is so sour or so sad that laughter is an impossibility. My very heart warmed to him, and when I found that he represented the firm of auctioneers, who were to deal with my chattels, I felt quite relieved, though I could not then have known any reason why I should be.

He was exceedingly abrupt and swift in all his movements, so that before I had realised that he had been through one room, he was beckoning me into the shop with a comic forefinger and an air of mystery. When I came up to him smiling in spite of myself, he said in a hoarse whisper, "Now, look y'ere, Guvnor, 'ow much yer goin' ter bid fer this little lot?" and he bent his brows upon me in a funny frown. I stared at him blankly, and then stammered out, "I—I don't know what you mean." "Ow, you don't, don't yer. Well, I'll 'splaint yer. If I sen's one of our vans daown 'ere, and clears your sticks aht, we cawn't tike the trouble t' sell'em orf bit by bit. 'Taint likely. Theyn't worf it. Nah, wot we sh'll do is ter sen rahnd t'one of ahr small Jew 'angers on, an' sye, 'Nah then, Moses or Abrams or Jyecob, as the kise mye be, wot yer givin' t' clear aht this little lot.' An' it's six ter four that we tikes 'is fust orfer, 'cause it don't matter t' us a bit on a little job like that, we gets the same commishun. Now, I mean that ter prevent that there kerlamity 'appenin' t'yer, you mike a bid for 'em yerself, an' you tike it strite from me that if your bid is anythin' over rubbish price ahr Guvnor 'll jump at it, syevin the trouble er tikin' it awye too an' all."

My brain, working furiously, had absorbed his whole meaning and exhausted every possible avenue of raising any more money by the time he had done speaking. And I shook my head, sadly murmuring, "It's no use. I'm most grateful to you for giving me this opportunity of saving my poor bits of goods, but I exhausted all my friend's means raising the money for the Court fees. I don't believe I could raise another sovereign to save my life." "P'raps not," returned he drily. "An' yet you might ter syve yer sticks. Nah once more, 'cause I got ter be movin', got arf dozen jobs on ter dye, you jist dig out like all possessed ter dye. Say you will 'ave a bit a brass ter sive that there poor little 'ome from bein' broke up, an' bring it, wotever it is, up t' th' orfice termorrow mornin' ten o'clock. I sh'll be there, an' I promise yer thet if it's anywheres near the mark the Guvnor 'll tike it. G'mornin,' keep yer chivvy up," and he was gone, whistling like a thrush, bless him.

While I stood there dazed, who should burst in, as was his custom, but my chum Bob from next door. I have said little of him lately, but indeed nothing could exceed the comfort that his cheery presence and sympathy had been all through this trying time. With money he could not help me, for he had but a very small salary, every penny of which he needed for the maintenance of his aged mother and himself; but he did what was even better at this time, he gave me himself, gave up such recreations as he had after his long day's confinement to come and talk over my lugubrious affairs, and try to devise ways of bettering them. Now he came up to me with a rush, saying, "Hullo, old boy, how's things? you look as if you'd had a knock."

Gratefully I turned to him, and in a few minutes he was in possession of the situation. He considered deeply for a little, and then said musingly, "I think I see a light. How many pictures have you got ready for sale? I gave him the number," showed him the best of them, and he went on: "Will you let me try and sell 'em for you to-night, getting what I can for 'em?" Of course I gladly acquiesced, as drowning men catch at straws, and salved my conscience for the dishonesty by the reflection that the transaction was really far more beneficial to my creditors, to say nothing of myself, than the clearing of them out by the Jew spoken of by my late visitor could possibly be.

"That's all right then," he said; "now you get 'em all ready, an' as soon as I can get off, I'll trot 'em round." He secured leave from his duties, and began a circuit of his friends, and after making several visits to the shop for more pictures he came in at last about ten o'clock tired but triumphant, and slapped down £5. 19s. on the table. I felt so glad I had a bit of supper ready for him, as I had nothing to do but cook, for he was almost ravenous with hunger. With great glee, he recounted his experiences, how he had implored, cajoled, bullied, his friends into buying the pictures they had so long seen in my shop window, taking large discounts for ready money, but he did not tell me, nor did I discover until long afterwards, that he had borrowed nearly £2. 10s. of the money, and bought three pictures himself, for my sake, which he didn't want, and certainly could not afford. But then that was his idea of being a chum.

It was only now that I permitted myself to realise how wretched would have been my lot had it not been for those avenues of escape, illegal as they were. To have been stripped of every article of furniture, and turned with my young family into an empty house, with no credit, and without as far as I could see at present more than sufficient money than would buy the most necessary articles of food allowed me out of the wages I was earning, cannot be regarded in any other light than that of a severe penalty for being a bad business man. Yet such was the law, and it was only mitigated by evasion or defiance. There can, I think, be no doubt of the badness of the law which crushes those who obey it honestly, but permits itself to be rendered nugatory with the utmost ease and impunity by any who are sufficiently dishonest. Nay, more, which tacitly invites and fosters dishonesty and falsehood to such an extent that I am sure no decent man can ever go through the process of being made a bankrupt without having deep scars left in his soul.

But although my present relief was undoubtedly great, and I consequently felt much happier, I was by no means upon secure ground as yet. Therefore, I was exceedingly impatient when morning came to be off to the city with my precious little hoard. I was outside the office some time before the clock struck, and at the earliest possible moment I was inside, much to the disgust of the first arrivals, who resented my punctuality. My vivacious friend of the previous day was there, cutting jokes with all and sundry except me, whom he seemed to regard as a piece of furniture which had accidentally got left in the office, by which I gathered correctly that he did not want to be recognised by me.

Presently a clerk came towards me and said with a lowering face, "Who did you want to see?" I told him, the principal; upon which he disappeared into an inner office. When he returned, he said, "The Governor'll see you directly." Presently I was called in, and a very kindly old gentleman demanded my business. I told him I was a debtor upon whom his firm had orders to distrain, and that I had come up to make an offer to buy in my small stock of furniture, so small that it was hardly worth his while to remove. "Ah," he said, "you are Mr Bullen of Lordship Lane, I believe," consulting a book at his side. I answered that I was.

"Now then," he went on, "what are you prepared to bid for this furniture of yours?" "Five pounds," I replied as calmly as I could, though to tell the truth my heart was thumping with the excitement of the crisis. "Five pounds," he repeated scornfully, "for a houseful of furniture! the thing's absurd. I never heard the like. Indeed you'll have to offer a good deal more than that." Very earnestly I answered him that it was quite impossible that I should do so. I had reached the limit, and that only by what I felt to be a miracle. Then he called the man whom I had received my instructions from, and consulted him in a low voice. The upshot of their conversation was that he turned to me and said, "My man here thinks your offer isn't out of the way, and so I'll accept it, but you must pay our fee." Again I assured him of my impecuniosity, but he cut me short by saying, "All right, you give me a promissory note to pay a guinea for my fee within a month, and the bargain's closed. But remember, if you try to chisel me, you'll be very sorry for it. My clerk will make out the receipt and note. He won't keep you waiting long."

So I paid the £5 and signed the promissory note. When I was leaving the office the principal said as if through an afterthought, "Look here, we've done with you—as far as we are concerned, your goods are free. But your landlord can distrain, if you let him, at any time between sunrise and sunset. So if I was you I'd shift those goods to another house—then they'll be safe and not before. Good morning."

It may be easily imagined what effect this advice had upon my already fretted nerves, and I felt as if I must fly. But when I got outside my friend was there, and I could do no less than thank him for his invaluable tip, succeeding at the same time in prevailing upon him to accept half-a-crown as a tiny recognition of, not payment for, his great kindness. Then I fled, suffering all the time until I reached home. I dashed into the shop where my wife was standing talking to Bob. I paid no attention to either of them, but seized the long arm, rushed outside, and began to pull the shutters down. "Whatever's the matter with you?" cried my wife, and they both stared at me as if they thought I was mad. But I never heeded them until I had the place effectually closed, and then wiping my brow I turned to them and breathlessly declared the reason of my haste.

It is hardly to be wondered at that they both laughed until the tears ran down. I joined them after a while, but at the same time I had an overwhelming sense of danger passed. The rest of that day was devoted to preparations for moving, the new abode as I have before said having been secured. As soon as the legal limit of entry by bailiffs had passed, I sallied forth and hired a van, horse, and man, at one and sixpence an hour (see large bills), and the work of removal began. Of course Bob was in his element, and we worked liked demons. By supper-time we were fairly installed in the new premises and as comfortable as circumstances would permit. Nay, I am ungrateful, far more comfortable than I had been since I first took upon my unfit shoulders the burden of a shop.

The last duty I performed that night was to post to the landlord the key of the premises with a line stating what it was. I did not add insult to injury by any expressions of apology, although I felt that an apology, very full and ample, was indicated. But, doubtless, the sense of exultation at having emerged from the late turmoil with my "bits of sticks," as the poor lovingly call their home plenishing, was uppermost in my mind, and overcame my sense of what was right and due to all, a tribute I was unable to pay. We had a delicious little supper of stewed rabbit and pickled pork that night, total cost for six eighteenpence (because it was Monday, and Ostend rabbits unsold from Saturday were a little stale), and afterwards a long, long talk over the beginning of better times. Then we parted happily, and I enjoyed a perfect night's rest.

I had left in the shop the broken lamps, a few of the fittings and the two counters. I claim no credit for leaving those counters; they had cost me £10, but I could not have sold them on the spur of the moment for ten shillings, although they were legally mine, if the term can be used of transactions which all seemed to me extra-legal if not actually illegal. To tell the truth I detached the shop entirely from my mind; it was an incubus removed as was Christian's burden in the "Pilgrim's Progress," and, although never in the habit of making resolutions or swearing off, I felt that nothing could, would, or should ever induce me to take upon my shoulders such a burden again.

I went back to my office with a fairly light heart, except for the lingering doubts which always assailed me when I had been away a long time, and found everything proceeding calmly in its accustomed channels. I did learn afterwards that one kind gentleman, suffering from insufficiency of occupation, had brought my bankruptcy before the Secretary, and had been snubbed for his pains. The same philanthropist I afterwards learned had been to the manager of a firm to which I was indebted and suggested that they should get an order to garnishee my £2 a week, but was again repulsed in his benevolent ideas. I may say in passing that his salary was double mine, that he was a bachelor, and I was seven, like the Wordsworth child, and after that I think I can leave the matter.

How long it was after this sudden passing from storm to calm, before I was called upon to meet my creditors I do not know, but I do know that I woke every morning feeling that life had begun anew. The postman's knock (truly it was rare now) no longer gave me palpitation of the heart, nor did I fear that upon coming home, I should meet one of my uninvited guests with designs upon my "bits of sticks." Demands for money, peremptory, denunciatory, ceased automatically. I moved in a new world, where debts were not, and £2 a week was a neat little annuity amply sufficient for all present needs; and I began to feel again as if life was worth living. Of course I had carried my tools with me and had set up a bench where I might do an occasional job if the opportunity offered; and as many of my old customers sought me out, I still earned a little extra, which I found very useful.

When I had almost forgotten that such a place as the Bankruptcy Court existed, much less that I had ever owed any money, I received an order to attend a first meeting of creditors at the Court. Of course I attended promptly, but only one of my creditors appeared, and I learned afterwards that he only came for the purpose of opposing any hostile resolutions which might be proposed. There were none, and he said nothing, in fact the whole proceedings were of the most perfunctory nature and occupied less than a quarter of an hour. I saw my old friend Mr Hardhat, who congratulated me upon the smooth way in which my affairs were going. "Now," he said, "there's only the public examination, and as soon as that is over you can apply for your discharge." I thanked him, and paid him the very small sum in which he said I was indebted to him, went away, and in another fortnight forgot the shameful business again.

The thought, however, would continually arise in my mind, how very different my position was now compared to what it had been a few days ago. Then, while fighting most desperately against overwhelming odds to pay my way and do my duty, I was being literally harassed to death; now, having by a substantial payment, not to my creditors but to the Government, obtained the right to declare my inability to pay anybody, I was left in perfect peace, and even in my appointed meeting with creditors no man of all those to whom I owed money came to say a word against me. I was not at all inclined to question very closely the means by which I had obtained deliverance from the morass in which I had so long been floundering, but the reflections would continually obtrude themselves, and I could only say with a sigh, as so many others have said in a like case, that it was a topsy-turvy world.

Then came the day of my public examination, but it had no terrors for me, for I knew that it could make no difference to me now, and besides I rather welcomed the opportunity of saying something in public on my own behalf. But I little thought that I was to have an object lesson in the absurdity and injustice of our Bankruptcy laws that day which would dwell in my mind as long as I lived. Yet it was so, and although I have read of many more flagrant instances since they are only exaggerations of this case, the principle is the same.

A man was being examined whose salary and commission had for over twenty years been more than £1200 a year. His debts were over £5000, contracted in all sorts of extravagant ways, and his creditors were very angry indeed. Now his assets were nil—I heard nothing about the selling up of his home or of his being turned out of the house for which he was supposed to pay £100 a year rent. In reply to questions he pleaded that he had a large family, but it turned out that the eldest was twenty-five and the youngest fourteen. Asked what reason he could assign for being in this position, he could or would give none but living beyond his means. Then came the very pertinent question, what did he propose to do?

Well, in the first place, said his eminent solicitor, his employers were willing to retain him in their service providing that he obtained his discharge, but not otherwise. Supposing that to be the case, his earnings would be much reduced, say to £800 a year. Now the proposition made was that whatever he earned over £600 a year should be set aside to be distributed pro rata among his creditors until they had received a dividend of five shillings in the pound on their claims. All this on condition only that he received his discharge then and there. There was some little talk, purely I judged for the sake of appearances, and then he was discharged to begin again. Now I do not say that this was injustice, but if it was just, what was I to call the treatment I subsequently received?

I was presently subjected to a searching examination by a very clever gentleman, who dilated upon my iniquity in continuing to trade after I knew that I was unable to fulfil my obligations. All the questions put were from the notes of my preliminary examination, and I felt very grateful for my excellent memory.

No creditor appeared to say a word in my disfavour, and the examination was concluded, nothing apparently having been done for or against me. I was puzzled, and as soon as I got outside the Court I eagerly enquired of my faithful Mr Hardhat, who was waiting for me, what I ought to do now. "Apply for your discharge at once," said he, "for if you delay it, the period you will be suspended for (and it's sure to be two years), will only date from the time of application, however long hence that may be." Of course I was eager to apply at once, but when I learned that there would be more fees to pay amounting to several pounds, none of which money would benefit my creditors at all, I indignantly refused to do anything of the sort, and said that I didn't care if I was never discharged, I would pay no more fees if I had thousands. And I rejoice to say that I never did.