Toppleton's Client; Or, A Spirit in Exile — Reading Notes
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CHAPTER I. PAGE INTRODUCING MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON 1
CHAPTER II. MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON LEASES AN OFFICE 13
CHAPTER III. MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON ENCOUNTERS A WEARY SPIRIT 25
CHAPTER IV. THE WEARY SPIRIT GIVES SOME ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF 39
CHAPTER V. HOPKINS BECOMES BETTER ACQUAINTED WITH THE WEARY SPIRIT 55
CHAPTER VI. THE SPIRIT UNFOLDS A HORRID TALE 73
CHAPTER VII. A CHAPTER OF PROFIT AND LOSS 90
CHAPTER VIII. FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS IN THE MAKING OF A NAME 107
CHAPTER IX. THE CROWNING ACT OF INFAMY 124
CHAPTER X. THE SPIRIT'S STORY IS CONCLUDED 149
CHAPTER XI. TOPPLETON CONSULTS THE LAW AND FORMS AN OPINION 167
CHAPTER XII. TOPPLETON MAKES A FAIR START 184
CHAPTER XIII. AT BARNCASTLE HALL 201
CHAPTER XIV. THE DINNER AND ITS RESULT 218
CHAPTER XV. BARNCASTLE CONFIDES IN HOPKINS 233
CHAPTER XVI. MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON MAKES A DISCOVERY 251
CHAPTER XVII. EPILOGUE 268
INTRODUCING MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON.
MR. HOPKINS TOPPLETON, Barrister of London and New York, was considered by his intimates a most fortunate young man. He was accounted the happy possessor of an income of something over fifty thousand dollars a year, derived from investments which time had shown to be as far removed from instability, and as little influenced by the fluctuations of the stock market, as the pyramids of Egypt themselves. Better than this, however, better even than personal beauty, with which he was plentifully endowed, Mr. Hopkins Toppleton was blessed with a great name, which he had received ready-made from his illustrious father, late head of the legal firm of Toppleton, Morley, Harkins, Perkins, Mawson, Bronson, Smithers and Hicks. The value of the name to Hopkins was unquestionable, since it enabled him, at his father's death, to enter that famous aggregation of legal talent as a special partner, although his knowledge of law was scant, receiving a share of the profits of the concern for the use of his patronymic, which, owing to his father's pre-eminent success at the Bar, Messrs. Morley, Harkins, _et al._, were anxious to retain. This desire of Mr. Toppleton's late associates was most natural, for such was the tremendous force exerted by the name he bore, that plaintiffs when they perceived it arrayed in opposition to their claims, not infrequently withdrew their suits, or offered terms upon which any defendant of sense might be induced to compromise. On the other hand, when a defendant found himself confronted with the fact that Hopkins Toppleton, Sen., had joined forces with the plaintiff, he usually either settled the claim against him in full or placed himself beyond the jurisdiction of the courts.
When Toppleton, Sen., died, it was very generally believed that the firm, whose name has already been mentioned at some length, lost not only its head, but also a very large proportion of its brains,--a situation quite as logical as it was unfortunate for the gentlemen with whom Mr. Toppleton had been associated. Nor was this feeling, that with the departure of Toppleton, the illustrious, for other worlds the firm was deprived of a most considerable portion of its claims to high standing, confined to cavilling outsiders. No one recognized the unhappy state of affairs at the busy office on Broadway more quickly than did Messrs. Morley, Harkins, Perkins, Mawson, Bronson, Smithers, and Hicks themselves, and at the first meeting of the firm, after the funeral of their dead partner, these gentlemen unanimously resolved that something must be done.
It was at this meeting that Mr. Hicks suggested that the only course left for the bereaved firm to pursue, if it desired to remain an aggressive force in its chosen profession, was to retain the name of Toppleton at the mast-head, and, as Mr. Mawson put it, "to bluff it out." Mr. Perkins agreed with Mr. Hicks, and suggested that the only honest way to do this was to induce Mr. Toppleton's only son, known to all--even to the clerks in the office--as Hoppy, to enter the firm as a full partner.
"I do not think," Mr. Perkins said, "that it is quite proper for us to assume a virtue that we do not possess, and while Hoppy--I should say Hopkins--has never studied law, I think he could be induced to do so, in which event he could be taken in here, and we should have a perfectly equitable claim to all the business which the name of Toppleton would certainly bring to us."
John Kendrick Bangs opens Toppleton's Client; Or, A Spirit in Exile with a portrait of Hopkins Toppleton as a barrister whose chief asset is not legal acumen but a surname inherited from his father. The narrator describes Toppleton's income as "as far removed from instability" as the pyramids, a simile that sets the tone for the book's blend of legal satire and supernatural comedy. The firm's name—a string of eight surnames—is itself a joke about the inflation of Victorian partnerships.
The Value of a Name
The opening chapter dwells on the commercial worth of Toppleton's patronymic. Plaintiffs withdraw suits and defendants flee when they see the name, even though Hopkins himself knows "scant" law. Bangs treats the name as a commodity: the firm retains it for a share of profits, and the narrator notes that the father's "pre-eminent success at the Bar" made the name a weapon. This satirizes how reputation can outweigh competence, a theme that recurs when the spirit later trades on borrowed identity.
Invisible Society and Embodied Frustration
The weary spirit recounts being kept from polite society because his invisible state embarrasses his host. The fiend suggests he "float" invisibly over trees or sit on the throne of England—a sardonic catalogue of freedoms that are actually exclusions. The spirit's retort, "I don't care to travel about in that impersonal fashion," reveals his desire for embodied social life. Bangs uses the ghost's predicament to mock the rituals of Victorian visibility: bowing, being seen, and the social labor of explaining snubs.
Cross-Examination as Courtship
When the spirit proposes to Miss Hicksworthy-Johnstone, he faces a "cross-examination" lasting two and a half hours. Bangs borrows legal vocabulary for romance: the spirit must give "plausible answer" to "embarrassing" questions, and Toppleton quips that the fiend left "a little of his brain" behind. The scene treats love as a trial, with the beloved as examiner. The spirit's relief at being called by his first name echoes a verdict of acquittal, blending the book's legal framework with its supernatural comedy.
Diction and the Comic Supernatural
Bangs' diction mixes formal legalese with colloquial asides. The spirit describes the fiend as "visible like a bit of sea-fog," a simile that is precise and faintly absurd. The narrator uses understatement: the spirit's proposal succeeds "in some way, I know not how." These choices keep the supernatural premise grounded in a recognizably human voice. The book's humor depends not on gothic dread but on the mundane frustrations of an invisible man navigating dinner parties and hansoms.
Readers attentive to Bangs' wordplay will find a satire that uses the ghost story to examine social performance, professional reputation, and the rituals of Victorian life. The excerpts suggest a novel more interested in the comedy of manners than in horror, with a narrator whose ironic distance invites the reader to smile at both the spirit's plight and Toppleton's complacency.
Reading about Toppleton’s exiled spirit, I remembered sitting on my grandmother’s porch, the same hush settling over me when I first met Mowgli’s loneliness among the wolves. Both books whisper that belonging is a borrowed room, not a birthright. That ache lingers like dusk. The Second Jungle Book — Inside the Classic held that same quiet, homesick pulse.
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