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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Seems to me you've lost them already," commented Peter; "you're overdoing it." "The more of us the better," explained Joey; "we help each other. Besides, I particularly want you in it. There's a sort of superior Pickwickian atmosphere surrounding you that disarms suspicion." "You leave me out of it," growled Peter.
Very few are afraid, I think; but one has an impression that one's own proportions are becoming sensibly developed "swelling wisibly," in fact, like the lady at the Pickwickian tea-fight while those of our adversary diminish in a like ratio, so that he does not appear near so fair a mark as he did a few minutes ago.
This ancient Inn is associated with some pleasant and diverting Pickwickian memories. We think of the adventure with "the lady in the yellow curl papers" and the double-bedded room, just as we would recall some "side splitting" farce in which Buckstone or Toole once made our jaws ache.
Nobody expects the American traveller to admire the refreshments at Mugby Junction; but he might admire the refreshment at one of the Pickwickian inns, especially if it contained Pickwick. Nobody expects Pickwick to like Pogram; but he might like the American who made fun of Mugby Junction. But the point is that, while he supported him in making fun, he would also think him funny.
"Why did the Navy Department instruct me in my sealed orders to look out for these steamers, if I was to do so in a Pickwickian sense?" demanded Christy earnestly. "What would you have done, Mr. Blowitt?" "Perhaps I should have been as audacious as you were, Christy, if such had been my orders."
It was delightful for the Pickwickian stranger to meet so appreciative a response, and many curious details were mentioned. At the close such is the force of the delusion we were all discussing Mr. Pickwick and his movements here and there, with the same conviction as we would have had in the case of Miss Burney, or Mrs. Thrale or Dr. Johnson.
He was, moreover, an ardent Pickwickian and thoroughly saturated with the spirit of the immortal book, to appreciate which a first-rate memory, which he possessed, is essential; for the details, allusions, names, suggestions, are so immense that they require to be present together in the mind, and jostle each other out of recollection.
Poor Emily! I lately looked through the swollen pages of the monster London Directory to find how many of the Pickwickian names were in common use. There was not a single Snodgrass, though there was one Winkel, and one "Winkle and Co." in St. Mary Axe. There was one Tupman, a Court dressmaker no Nupkins, but some twenty Magnuses, and not a single Pickwick.
The personality of Charles Dickens was, even to his distant readers, vivid and intense; and hence it is much more so to those who have known his person. I am thus an ardent Pickwickian myself; and anything I say about our immortal Founder must be understood in a Pickwickian sense.
The society there was thoroughly Pickwickian; there were many old-fashioned figures, including the Mr. Jesse at whom the "Ponto" story was directed. We were gay enough. The old Star and Garter was flourishing. There were the Assembly Rooms at the Castle Inn, with "Almack's Balls"; barges coming down on Regatta days, when people danced on the deck and feasted in the cabin.
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