Pickwickian Studies | Page 5

schoolmaster in a fashion that all his neighbours and friends recognised the original, would not draw back in the case of an editor. Indeed, it is plain that in all points Pott is truly an admirable figure, perfect in every point of view, and finished. In fact, Pott and Pell, in their way, are the two best pieces of work in the book. How admirable is the description; "a tall, thin man with a sandy-coloured head, inclined to baldness, and a face in which solemn importance was blended with a look of unfathomable profundity. He was dressed in a long, brown surtout, with a black cloth waistcoat and drab trousers. A double eye-glass dangled at his waistcoat, and on his head he wore a very low-crowned hat with a broad rim." Every touch is delightful--although all is literal the literalness is all humour. As when Pott, to recreate his guest, Mr. Pickwick, told Jane to "go down into the office and bring me up the file of the Gazette for 1828. I'll read you just a few of the leaders I wrote at that time upon the Buff job of appointing a new tollman to the turnpike here. I rather think they'll amuse you." This was rich enough, and he came back to the same topic towards the end of the book.
It will be remembered Mr. Pott went to Mrs. Leo Hunter's Fete in the character of a Russian with a knout in his hand. No doubt the Gazette had its "eye on Russia" and like the famous Skibbereen Eagle had solemnly warned the Autocrat to that effect. It is, by the way, amusing to find that this organ, The Eagle to wit, which so increased the gaiety of the nation, has once more been warning the Autocrat, and in a vein that proves that "our filthy contemporary," The Eatanswill Gazette, was no exaggerated picture. This is how The Eagle, in a late issue, speaks of the Russian occupation of Port Arthur:--"And once again that keen, fierce glance is cast in the direction of the grasping Muscovite; again, one of the foulest, one of the vilest dynasties that has impiously trampled on the laws of God, and has violated every progressive aspiration the Almighty implanted in the human heart when He fashioned man in His own image, and breathed into his soul the breath of life, threatens, for the moment at least, to put back the hands of the clock that tells the progress of civilisation. The Emperor of all the Russias, this wicked enemy of the human race, has succeeded in raising his hideous flag on Port Arthur, and planting his iron heel and cloven hoof on the heathen Chinese--filthy, degenerate creatures, who, it must be admitted, are fitting companions for the tallow-eating, 'knouting' barbarian."

III.--Nupkins and Magnus.
Who was intended by Nupkins, the intolerable Mayor of Ipswich? An odious being. We may wonder at "Boz's" courage, for, of course, the existing Mayor of Ipswich might think that the satire was pointed at him. There can be little doubt, however, that Nupkins was drawn from a London Police Magistrate, and is, in fact, another portrait of the functionary whom he sketched specially for "Oliver Twist" under the name of Mr. Fang. Nupkins, however, is more in the comedy vein--ridiculed rather than gibbeted--than was Mr. Fang. We have only to compare the touches in both descriptions:
"I beg your pardon for interrupting you," said Mr. Pickwick, "but before you proceed to act upon any opinion you may have formed, I must claim my right to be heard."
"Hold your tongue," said the magistrate, peremptorily.
"I must submit to you, sir--" said Mr. Pickwick.
"Hold your tongue, or I shall order an officer to remove you."
"You may order your officers to do whatever you please, sir," said Mr. Pickwick.
Compare with this "Oliver Twist":
"Who are you?" said Mr. Fang.
"Before I am sworn, I must beg to say one word, and that is I really never, without actual experience, could have believed--"
"Hold your tongue, sir," said Mr. Fang, peremptorily.
"I will not, sir."
"Hold your tongue this instant, or I'll have you turned out of the office."
Mr. Pickwick, it will be remembered, made a communication to Mr. Nupkins which changed the whole state of affairs. Mr. Nupkins, with all his insolent despotism, was held in check by conference with his clerk, Jinks, who kept him from making mistakes by judicious hints.
Fang's clerk, like Mr. Jinks, interposed:
"How do you propose to deal with the case, sir?" inquired the clerk, in a low voice.
Mr. Jinks pulled him by the sleeve and whispered something. He was evidently remonstrating. At length the magistrate, gulping down with a very bad grace his disinclination to hear anything more, said sharply, "What do you want to say?"
When Mr. Fang was about to commit Oliver, the Bookstall-keeper rushed in,