The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Includes New Illustrations and Updated Biography

Mr. Utterson the lawyer was a man of a rugged countenance that was neverlighted by a smile; cold, scanty and embarrassed in discourse; backwardin sentiment; lean, long, dusty, dreary and yet somehow lovable.At friendly meetings, and when the wine was to his taste, somethingeminently human beaconed from his eye; something indeed which neverfound its way into his talk, but which spoke not only in these silentsymbols of the after-dinner face, but more often and loudly in the actsof his life. He was austere with himself; drank gin when he was alone, to mortify a taste for vintages; and though he enjoyed the theatre, hadnot crossed the doors of one for twenty years. But he had an approvedtolerance for others; sometimes wondering, almost with envy, at the highpressure of spirits involved in their misdeeds; and in any extremityinclined to help rather than to reprove. "I incline to Cain's heresy," he used to say quaintly: "I let my brother go to the devil in his ownway." In this character, it was frequently his fortune to be the lastreputable acquaintance and the last good influence in the lives ofdowngoing men. And to such as these, so long as they came about hischambers, he never marked a shade of change in his demeanour.No doubt the feat was easy to Mr. Utterson; for he was undemonstrativeat the best, and even his friendship seemed to be founded in a similarcatholicity of good-nature. It is the mark of a modest man to accept hisfriendly circle ready-made from the hands of opportunity; and that wasthe lawyer's way. His friends were those of his own blood or those whomhe had known the longest; his affections, like ivy, were the growth oftime, they implied no aptness in the object. Hence, no doubt thebond that united him to Mr. Richard Enfield, his distant kinsman, thewell-known man about town. It was a nut to crack for many, what thesetwo could see in each other, or what subject they could find in common.It was reported by those who encountered them in their Sunday walks, that they said nothing, looked singularly dull and would hail withobvious relief the appearance of a friend. For all that, the two men putthe greatest store by these excursions, counted them the chief jewelof each week, and not only set aside occasions of pleasure, buteven resisted the calls of business, that they might enjoy themuninterrupted.It chanced on one of these rambles that their way led them down aby-street in a busy quarter of London. The street was small and whatis called quiet, but it drove a thriving trade on the weekdays. Theinhabitants were all doing well, it seemed and all emulously hoping todo better still, and laying out the surplus of their grains in coquetry;so that the shop fronts stood along that thoroughfare with an air ofinvitation, like rows of smiling saleswomen. Even on Sunday, when itveiled its more florid charms and lay comparatively empty of passage, the street shone out in contrast to its dingy neighbourhood, like afire in a forest; and with its freshly painted shutters, well-polishedbrasses, and general cleanliness and gaiety of note, instantly caughtand pleased the eye of the passenger.