“I believe I and my family have also had the honour of furnishing some entertainment in the same grave place,” said my guardian composedly.  “You may have heard my name—­Jarndyce.”

“Mr. Jarndyce,” said Gridley with a rough sort of salutation, “you bear your wrongs more quietly than I can bear mine.  More than that, I tell you—­and I tell this gentleman, and these young ladies, if they are friends of yours—­that if I took my wrongs in any other way, I should be driven mad!  It is only by resenting them, and by revenging them in my mind, and by angrily demanding the justice I never get, that I am able to keep my wits together.  It is only that!” he said, speaking in a homely, rustic way and with great vehemence.  “You may tell me that I over-excite myself.  I answer that it’s in my nature to do it, under wrong, and I must do it.  There’s nothing between doing it, and sinking into the smiling state of the poor little mad woman that haunts the court.  If I was once to sit down under it, I should become imbecile.”

The passion and heat in which he was, and the manner in which his face worked, and the violent gestures with which he accompanied what he said, were most painful to see.

“Mr. Jarndyce,” he said, “consider my case.  As true as there is a heaven above us, this is my case.  I am one of two brothers.  My father (a farmer) made a will and left his farm and stock and so forth to my mother for her life.  After my mother’s death, all was to come to me except a legacy of three hundred pounds that I was then to pay my brother.  My mother died.  My brother some time afterwards claimed his legacy.  I and some of my relations said that he had had a part of it already in board and lodging and some other things.  Now mind!  That was the question, and nothing else.  No one disputed the will; no one disputed anything but whether part of that three hundred pounds had been already paid or not.  To settle that question, my brother filing a bill, I was obliged to go into this accursed Chancery; I was forced there because the law forced me and would let me go nowhere else.  Seventeen people were made defendants to that simple suit!  It first came on after two years.  It was then stopped for another two years while the master (may his head rot off!) inquired whether I was my father’s son, about which there was no dispute at all with any mortal creature.  He then found out that there were not defendants enough—­remember, there were only seventeen as yet!—­but that we must have another who had been left out and must begin all over again.  The costs at that time—­before the thing was begun!—­were three times the legacy.  My brother would have given up the legacy, and joyful, to escape more costs.  My whole estate, left to me in that will of my father’s, has gone in costs.  The suit, still undecided, has fallen into rack, and ruin, and despair, with everything else—­and here I stand, this day!  Now, Mr. Jarndyce, in your suit there are thousands and thousands involved, where in mine there are hundreds.  Is mine less hard to bear or is it harder to bear, when my whole living was in it and has been thus shamefully sucked away?”