for the sacred text vanishing; and people would unfeelingly interrupt
them to inquire the way to the "Pickwick man." Eventually the police
began to interfere, and required him to "move on;" "he was obstructing
the pavement"--not, perhaps, he, but "Pickwick." He _did_ move on to
Hyde Park, but there were others there, performers young and up-to-date,
and with full use of their eyes, who did the same thing with action and
elocution. So he fairly gave the thing up, and returned to his
Scriptures. This tale would have amused "Boz" himself.

Of a more miscellaneous kind are "The Pickwick Songster," "Sam Weller's
Almanac," "Sam Weller's Song Book," "The Pickwick Pen," "Oh, what a boon
and a blessing to men," etc.,--to say nothing of innumerable careless
sheets, and trifles of all kinds and of every degree. Then we have
adapted advertisements. The Proprietors of Beecham's Pills use the scene
of Mr. Pickwick's discovery of the Bill Stumps inscription. Some carpet
cleaners have Sam and the pretty housemaid folding the carpet. Lastly
comes the author, "Boz" himself, with letters, portraits, pictures of his
homes, etc., all more or less connected with the period when he was
writing this book, a facsimile of his receipt for copy money, a copy of
his agreement with Chapman and Hall, and many more items. {47}

I have often wondered how it was that "the inimitable Boz," took so
little interest in his great Book. It always seemed to me that he did
not care for praise of it, or wish much that it should be alluded to. But
he at once became interested, when you spoke of some of his artful plots,
in Bleak House, or Little Dorrit--then his eye kindled. He may have
fancied, as his friend Forster also did, that Pickwick was a rather
_jejune_ juvenile thing, inartistically planned, and thrown off, or
rather rattled off. His _penchant_, as was the case with Liston and some
of the low comedians, was for harrowing tragedy and pathos.

Once when driving with him on a jaunting car in Dublin, he asked me, did
I know so-and-so, and I answered promptly in Mr. Winkle's words, "I don't
know him, but I have seen him." This _apropos_ made him laugh heartily.
I am now inclined to think that the real explanation of his distaste was,
that the Book was associated with one of the most painful and distracting
episodes of his life, which affected him so acutely, that he actually
flung aside his work in the full tumult of success, and left the eager