Transcribed from the 1880 Chatto and Windus edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org
[Picture: Book cover]
SPEECHES
_LITERARY AND SOCIAL_
BY
CHARLES DICKENS
WITH CHAPTERS ON “CHARLES DICKENS AS A LETTER WRITER,
POET, AND PUBLIC READER.”
[Picture: Drawing of Charles Dickens]
_A NEW EDITION_
London
CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1880
INTRODUCTION.
CHARLES DICKENS was born at Landport, Portsmouth, on February 7, 1812.
At that time his father, Mr. John Dickens, held an office in the Navy Pay
Department, the duties of which obliged him to reside alternately at the
principal naval stations of England. But on the conclusion of peace in
1815 a considerable reduction was made by Government in this branch of
the public service. Mr. John Dickens, among others, was pensioned off,
and he removed to London with his wife and children, when his son Charles
was hardly four years of age.
No doubt the varied bustling scenes of life witnessed by Charles Dickens
in his early years, had an influence on his mind that gave him a taste
for observing the manners and mental peculiarities of different classes
of people engaged in the active pursuits of life, and quickened a
naturally lively perception of the ridiculous, for which he was
distinguished even in boyhood.
It is curious to observe how similar opportunities of becoming acquainted
practically with life, and the busy actors on its varied scenes, in very
early life, appear to influence the minds of thinking and imaginative men
in after-years. Goldsmith’s pedestrian excursions on the Continent,
Bulwer’s youthful rambles on foot in England, and equestrian expeditions
in France, and Maclise’s extensive walks in boyhood over his native
county, and the mountains and valleys of Wicklow a little later, were
fraught with similar results.
Charles Dickens was intended by his father to be an attorney. Nature and
Mr. John Dickens happily differed on that point. London law may have
sustained little injury in losing Dickens for “a limb.” English
literature would have met with an irreparable loss, had she been deprived
of him whom she delights to own as a favourite son.
Dickens, having decided against the law, began his career in “the
gallery,” as a reporter on _The True Sun_; and from the first made
himself distinguished and distinguishable among “the corps,” for his
ability, promptness, and punctuality.
Remaining for a short term on the staff of this periodical, he seceded to
_The Mirror of Parliament_, which was started with the express object of
furnishing _verbatim_ reports of the debates. It only lived, however,
for two sessions.
The influence of his father, who on settling in the metropolis, had
become connected with the London press, procured for Charles Dickens an
appointment as short-hand reporter on the _Morning Chronicle_. To this
period of his life he has made some graceful and interesting allusions in
a speech delivered at the Second Anniversary of the Newspaper Press Fund,
about five years ago.
It was in _The Monthly Magazine_ of January, 1834, before he had quite
attained his twenty-second year, that Charles Dickens made his first
appearance in print as a story-teller. {7} Neither the editor of the
magazine, nor the readers, nor even the ardent and gratified young author
himself (who has described in the preface to the “Pickwick Papers” his
sensations on finding his little contribution accepted), then dreamt that
he would become in five short years from that time one of the most
popular and widely-read of English authors, that his name would shortly
become familiar as a household word, and that his praise would be on
every tongue on both sides of the Atlantic.
Encouraged by his success, Charles Dickens continued to send sketches in
the same vein, and for the next twelve months was a tolerably constant
contributor to the _Magazine_. All, or nearly all, of these little
papers were reprinted in the collection of _Sketches by Boz_; but as it
will perhaps be interesting to some of our readers to trace their
original appearance in the magazine, we give a list of them here:—
February, 1834, Horatio Sparkins.
Marriage a-la-Mode.
April „ The Bloomsbury Christening.
May „ The Boarding-House.
August „ _Ibid._ (No II.) {8a}
September „ The Goings-on at Bramsby Hall.
October „ The Steam Excursion.
January, 1835. Passage in the Life of Mr. Watkins Tottle.
February „ _Ib._ Chapter Second.
A similar series was afterwards contributed to the evening edition of
_The Morning Chronicle_, {8b} then edited by Mr. John Black, and on which
Dickens was engaged as parliamentary reporter.
While writing the “Sketches,” a strong inclination towards the stage
induced Mr. Charles Dickens to test his powers as a dramatist, and his
first piece, a farce called _The Strange Gentleman_, was produced at the
St. James’s Theatre on the opening night of the season, September 29,
1836. The late Mr. Harley was the hero of the farce, which was received
with great favour. This was followed by an opera, called _The Village
Coquettes_, for which Mr. Hullah composed the music, and which was
brought out at the same establishment, on Tuesday, December 6, 1836. The
quaint humour, unaffected pathos, and graceful lyrics of this production
found prompt recognition, and the piece enjoyed a prosperous run. _The
Village Coquettes_ took its title from two village girls, Lucy and Rose,
led away by vanity, coquetting with men above them in station, and
discarding their humble, though worthy lovers. Before, however, it is
too late they see their error, and the piece terminates happily. Miss
Rainforth and Miss Julia Smith were the heroines, and Mr. Bennet and Mr.
Gardner were their betrothed lovers. Braham was the Lord of the Manor,
who would have led astray the fair Lucy. There was a capital scene,
where he was detected by Lucy’s father, played by Strickland, urging an
elopement. Harley had a trifling part in the piece, rendered highly
amusing by his admirable acting.
On March 6, 1837, was brought out at the St. James’s Theatre a farce,
called _Is She His Wife_; _or_, _Something Singular_, in which Harley
played the principal character, Felix Tapkins, a flirting bachelor, and
sang a song in the character of Pickwick, “written expressly for him by
Boz.”
Under the pseudonym of Timothy Sparks Charles Dickens published about
this time a wholesome, wise, and cleverly written little pamphlet against
Sabbatarianism, in which he cogently and forcibly advocated more liberal
views respecting the observance of Sunday than generally obtain in this
country. {10}
In March, 1836, appeared the first number of “Pickwick,” with
illustrations by Seymour. It was continued in monthly shilling numbers
until its completion, and this has been Mr. Dickens’s favourite and usual
form of publication ever since. The success and popularity of the
work—which, in freshness and vigour, he has never surpassed in his later
and maturer writings—were unmistakeable. Several playwrights dramatised
it, with more or less success; and a swarm of obscure scribblers flooded
the town with imitations and sequels, which, like Avanelleda’s second
part of “Don Quixote,” came mostly to grief, and were quickly forgotten.
Before the work had reached its third number, the talented artist who had
undertaken the illustrations, and who has immortalised the features of
Mr. Pickwick, was unfortunately removed by death, and Mr. Hablot Browne
(the well-known _Phiz_) was chosen to replace him, and continued to
illustrate most of Mr. Dickens’s novels for many years after. During the
years 1837–1838, Mr. Dickens carried on the editorship of _Bentley’s
Miscellany_, where his novel of “Oliver Twist” (illustrated by George
Cruikshank) first appeared. To this magazine, during the time that he
conducted it, he also contributed some humorous papers, entitled “Full
Report of the Meetings of the Mudfog Association for the Advancement of
Everything.” But, finding his editorial office irksome, he soon
abandoned it.
During his engagement with Mr. Bentley, he edited and partly wrote the
“Memoirs of Joseph Grimaldi,” {11} a book now almost forgotten, though
not without passages of pathos and humour. Dickens, in the introductory
chapter (dated February, 1838), gives the following account of his share
in the work:—
“For about a year before his death, Grimaldi was employed in writing
a full account of his life and adventures, and as people who write
their own lives often find time to extend them to a most inordinate
length, it is no wonder that his account of himself was exceedingly
voluminous.
“This manuscript was confided to Mr. Thomas Egerton Wilks, to alter
and revise, with a view to its publication. While he was thus
engaged, Grimaldi died; and Mr. Wilks having, by the commencement of
September (1837), concluded his labours, offered the manuscript to
Mr. Bentley, by whom it was shortly afterwards purchased.
“The present editor of these volumes has felt it necessary to say
thus much in explanation of their origin. His own share in them is
stated in a few words. Being much struck by several incidents in the
manuscript—such as the description of Grimaldi’s infancy, the
burglary, the brother’s return from sea, and many other passages—and
thinking that they might be related in a more attractive manner, he
accepted a proposal from the publisher to edit the book, and _has_
edited it to the best of his ability, altering its form throughout,
and making such other alterations as he conceived would improve the
narration of the facts, without any departure from the facts
themselves.”
His next work was “Nicholas Nickleby,” published in monthly numbers. The
following passage from the original preface, which is only to be found in
the old editions, alludes to the great success that attended this story:—
“It only now remains for the writer of these pages, with that feeling
of regret with which we leave almost any pursuit that has for a long
time occupied us and engaged our thoughts, and which is naturally
augmented in such a case as this, when that pursuit has been
surrounded by all that could animate and cheer him on—it only now
remains for him, before abandoning his task, to bid his readers
farewell.”
This was followed by “Master Humphrey’s Clock,” the publication of which,
in weekly numbers, with illustrations by Cattermole and Hablot Browne,
was commenced in April, 1840. “Master Humphrey’s Clock” comprised the
two novels of “The Old Curiosity Shop” and “Barnaby Rudge,” which are now
published in a separate form, stripped of the introductory portion
relating to Master Humphrey, and of the intercalary chapters in which Mr.
Pickwick and the two Wellers appear again on the scene. It was pleasant
to meet once more these familiar humorous creations, and it may be a
matter for regret that this portion of the book has been consigned to
oblivion. But the author considered that these passages served only to
interrupt the continuity of the main story, and they were consequently
eliminated.
These three characters (the Wellers and Mr. Pickwick) have all the same
raciness and inexhaustible humour in this sequel as in the work in which
we were first introduced to them. As the original edition of the work we
are alluding to is now somewhat rare, the reader may not be displeased to
have a few specimens laid before him. Here is Mr. Weller senior’s
opinion of railways:—
“I con-sider,” said Mr. Weller, “that the rail is unconstitootional
and an inwaser o’ priwileges, and I should wery much like to know
what that ’ere old Carter as once stood up for our liberties and wun
’em too—I should like to know wot he vould say if he wos alive now,
to Englishmen being locked up with widders, or with anybody, again
their wills. Wot a old Carter would have said, a old Coachman may
say, and I as-sert that in that pint o’ view alone, the rail is an
inwaser. As to the comfort, vere’s the comfort o’ sittin’ in a harm
cheer lookin’ at brick walls or heaps o’ mud, never comin’ to a
public house, never seein’ a glass o’ ale, never goin’ through a
pike, never meetin’ a change o’ no kind (horses or othervise), but
alvays comin’ to a place, ven you come to one at all, the wery picter
o’ the last, vith the same p’leesemen standing about, the same
blessed old bell a ringin’, the same unfort’nate people standing
behind the bars, a waitin’ to be let in; and everythin’ the same
except the name, vich is wrote up in the same sized letters as the
last name and vith the same colors. As to the _h_onour and dignity
o’ travelling vere can that be vithout a coachman; and wot’s the rail
to sich coachmen and guards as is sometimes forced to go by it, but a
outrage and a insult? As to the pace, wot sort o’ pace do you think
I, Tony Veller, could have kept a coach goin’ at, for five hundred
thousand pound a mile, paid in adwance afore the coach was on the
road? And as to the ingein—a nasty wheezin’, creaking, gasping,
puffin, bustin’ monster, alvays out o’ breath, vith a shiny green and
gold back, like a unpleasant beetle in that ’ere gas magnifier—as to
the ingein as is alvays a pourin’ out red hot coals at night, and
black smoke in the day, the sensiblest thing it does in my opinion,
is, ven there’s somethin’ in the vay and it sets up that ’ere
frightful scream vich seems to say, ‘Now here’s two hundred and forty
passengers in the wery greatest extremity o’ danger, and here’s their
two hundred and forty screams in vun!’” {15}
While Mr. Pickwick is listening to Master Humphrey’s story above, the
Wellers are entertained by the housekeeper in the kitchen, where they
find Mr. Slithers, the barber, to whom Sam Weller, drawing extensively we
may suppose upon his lively imagination, relates the following anecdote:—
“I never knew,” said Sam, fixing his eyes in a ruminative manner upon
the blushing barber, “I never knew but von o’ your trade, but _he_
wos worth a dozen, and wos indeed dewoted to his callin’!”
“Was he in the easy shaving way, sir,” inquired Mr. Slithers; “or in
the cutting and curling line?”
“Both,” replied Sam; “easy shavin’ was his natur, and cuttin’ and
curlin’ was his pride and glory. His whole delight wos in his trade.
He spent all his money in bears and run in debt for ’em besides, and
there they wos a growling avay down in the front cellar all day long,
and ineffectooally gnashing their teeth, vile the grease o’ their
relations and friends wos being re-tailed in gallipots in the shop
above, and the first-floor winder wos ornamented vith their heads;
not to speak o’ the dreadful aggrawation it must have been to ’em to
see a man alvays a walkin’ up and down the pavement outside, vith the
portrait of a bear in his last agonies, and underneath in large
letters, ‘Another fine animal wos slaughtered yesterday at
Jinkinson’s!’ Hows’ever, there they wos, and there Jinkinson wos,
till he wos took wery ill with some inn’ard disorder, lost the use of
his legs, and wos confined to his bed, vere he laid a wery long time,
but sich wos his pride in his profession even then, that wenever he
wos worse than usual, the doctor used to go down stairs and say,
‘Jinkinson’s wery low this mornin’; we must give the bears a stir;’
and as sure as ever they stirred ’em up a bit, and made ’em roar,
Jinkinson opens his eyes if he wos ever so bad, calls out, ‘There’s
the bears!’ and rewives agin. Vun day the doctor happenin’ to say,
‘I shall look in as usual to-morrow mornin’,’ Jinkinson catches hold
of his hand and says, ‘Doctor,’ he says, ‘will you grant me one
favor?’ ‘I will, Jinkinson,’ says the doctor. ‘Then, doctor,’ says
Jinkinson, ‘vill you come un-shaved, and let me shave you?’ ‘I
will,’ says the doctor. ‘God bless you,’ says Jinkinson. Next day
the doctor came, and arter he’d been shaved all skilful and reg’lar,
he says, ‘Jinkinson,’ he says, ‘it’s wery plain this does you good.
Now,’ he says, ‘I’ve got a coachman as has got a beard that it ’d
warm your heart to work on, and though the footman,’ he says, ‘hasn’t
got much of a beard, still he’s a trying it on vith a pair o’ viskers
to that extent, that razors is christian charity. If they take it in
turns to mind the carriage wen it’s a waitin’ below,’ he says, ‘wot’s
to hinder you from operatin’ on both of ’em ev’ry day as well as upon
me? you’ve got six children,’ he says, ‘wot’s to hinder you from
shavin’ all their heads, and keepin’ ’em shaved? You’ve got two
assistants in the shop down-stairs, wot’s to hinder you from cuttin’
and curlin’ them as often as you like? Do this,’ he says, ‘and
you’re a man agin.’ Jinkinson squeedged the doctor’s hand, and begun
that wery day; he kept his tools upon the bed, and wenever he felt
his-self gettin’ worse, he turned to at vun o’ the children, who wos
a runnin’ about the house vith heads like clean Dutch cheeses, and
shaved him agin. Vun day the lawyer come to make his vill; all the
time he wos a takin’ it down, Jinkinson was secretly a clippin’ avay
at his hair vith a large pair of scissors. ‘Wot’s that ’ere snippin’
noise?’ says the lawyer every now and then, ‘it’s like a man havin’
his hair cut.’ ‘It _is_ wery like a man havin’ his hair cut,’ says
poor Jinkinson, hidin’ the scissors and lookin’ quite innocent. By
the time the lawyer found it out, he was wery nearly bald. Jinkinson
was kept alive in this vay for a long time, but at last vun day he
has in all the children, vun arter another, shaves each on ’em wery
clean, and gives him vun kiss on the crown of his head; then he has
in the two assistants, and arter cuttin’ and curlin’ of ’em in the
first style of elegance, says he should like to hear the woice o’ the
greasiest bear, vich rekvest is immedetly complied with; then he says
that he feels wery happy in his mind, and vishes to be left alone;
and then he dies, prevously cuttin’ his own hair, and makin’ one flat
curl in the wery middle of his forehead.” {18a}
There is a great deal more in the same vein, not unworthy of the
“Pickwick Papers.” We must leave the curious reader to find it out,
however, for himself.
During the progress of this publication, it seems that certain officious
persons, mistaking it for a kind of _omnium gatherum_, by “several
hands,” tendered contributions to its pages, and the author was compelled
to issue the following advertisement: