No
papers are "filed at the Temple"--whatever that meant. The Pound, as an
incident of village correction has, all but a few, disappeared.

Then for the professional classes, which are described in the chronicle
with such graphic power and vivacity. As at this time "Boz" drew the
essential elements of character instead of the more superficial ones--his
later practice--there is not much change to be noted. We have the
medical life exhibited by Bob Sawyer and his friends; the legal world in
Court and chambers--judges, counsel, and solicitors--are all much as they
are now. Sir Frank Lockwood has found this subject large enough for
treatment in his little volume, "The Law and Lawyers of Pickwick." It
may be thought that no judge of the pattern of Stareleigh could be found
now, but we could name recent performances in which incidents such as,
"Is your name Nathaniel Daniel or Daniel Nathaniel?" have been repeated.
Neither has the blustering of Buzfuz or his sophistical plaintiveness
wholly gone by. The "cloth" was represented by the powerful but
revolting sketch of Stiggins, which, it is strange, was not resented by
the Dissenters of the day, and also by a more worthy specimen in the
person of the clergyman at Dingley Dell. There are the mail-coach
drivers, with the "ostlers, boots, countrymen, gamekeepers, peasants, and
others," as they have it in the play-bills. Truly admirable, and
excelling the rest, are "Boz's" sketches--actually "living pictures"--of
the fashionable footmen at Bath, beside which the strokes in that
diverting piece "High Life below Stairs" seem almost flat. The
simperings of these gentry, their airs and conceit, we may be sure,
obtain now. Once coming out of a Theatre, at some fashionable
performance, through a long lane of tall menials, one fussy aristocrat
pushed one of them out of his way. The menial contemptuously pushed him
back. The other in a rage said, "How dare you? Don't you know, I'm the
Earl of ---" "Well," said the other coldly, "If you _be_ a Hearl, can't
you be'ave as sich?"

After the wedding at Manor Farm we find that bride and bridegroom did not
set off from the house on a wedding tour, but remained for the night.
This seemed to be the custom. Kissing, too, on the Pickwickian
principles, would not now, to such an extent, be tolerated. There is an
enormous amount in the story. The amorous Tupman had scarcely entered
the hall of a strange house when he began osculatory