do things that England did. In this belief, to be sure, they had long been
carefully trained by the Barnacles and Stiltstalkings, who were always
proclaiming to them, officially and unofficially, that no country which failed
to submit itself to those two large families could possibly hope to be under the
protection of Providence; and who, when they believed it, disparaged them in
private as the most prejudiced people under the sun.
    This, therefore, might be called a political position of the Bleeding
Hearts; but they entertained other objections to having foreigners in the Yard.
They believed that foreigners were always badly off; and though they were as ill
off themselves as they could desire to be, that did not diminish the force of
the objection. They believed that foreigners were dragooned and bayoneted; and
though they certainly got their own skulls promptly fractured if they showed any
ill-humour, still it was with a blunt instrument, and that didn't count. They
believed that foreigners were always immoral; and though they had an occasional
assize at home, and now and then a divorce case or so, that had nothing to do
with it. They believed that foreigners had no independent spirit, as never being
escorted to the poll in droves by Lord Decimus Tite Barnacle, with colours
flying and the tune of Rule Britannia playing. Not to be tedious, they had many
other beliefs of a similar kind.
    Against these obstacles, the lame foreigner with the stick had to make head
as well as he could; not absolutely single-handed, because Mr. Arthur Clennam
had recommended him to the Plornishes (he lived at the top of the same house),
but still at heavy odds. However, the Bleeding Hearts were kind hearts; and when
they saw the little fellow cheerily limping about with a good-humoured face,
doing no harm, drawing no knives, committing no outrageous immoralities, living
chiefly on farinaceous and milk diet, and playing with Mrs. Plornish's children
of an evening, they began to think that although he could never hope to be an
Englishman, still it would be hard to visit that affliction on his head. They
began to accommodate themselves to his level, calling him Mr. Baptist, but
treating him like a baby, and laughing immoderately at his lively gestures and
his childish English - more, because he didn't mind it, and laughed too. They
spoke to him in very loud voices as if he were stone deaf. They constructed
sentences, by way of teaching him the language in its purity, such as were
addressed by the savages to