“If you had not assured us, my dear Copperfield, on the occasion of that agreeable afternoon we had the happiness of passing with you, that D was your favourite letter,” said Mr. Micawber, “I should unquestionably have supposed that A had been so.”

We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done before, in a remote time⁠—of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, by the same faces, objects, and circumstances⁠—of our knowing perfectly what will be said next, as if we suddenly remembered it! I never had this mysterious impression more strongly in my life, than before he uttered those words.