The Adventures of Oliver Twist.

THE greater part of this tale was originally published during the years 1837 and 1838, in "Bentley's Magazine," of which Mr. Dickens was at that time the editor. It was begun in the second number (for February, 1837), and was illustrated by George Cruikshank. On its completion, it was issued in three volumes, by Mr. Bentley.

In "Oliver Twist " Dickens assailed the abuses of the poor-law and workhouse systém. Of his more general object in writing the work, he has himself given this account:

"I have yet to learn that a lesson of the purest good may not be drawn from the vilest evil. I have always believed this to be a recognized and established truth, laid down by the greatest men the world has ever seen, constantly acted upon by the greatest and wisest natures, and confirmed by the reason and experience of every thinking mind. I saw no reason, when I wrote this book, why the dregs of life, so long as their speech did not offend the ear, should not serve the purpose of a moral, at least as well as its froth and cream. Nor did I doubt that there lay festering in Saint Giles's as good materials towards the truth as any to be found in Saint James's.

"In this spirit, when I wished to show in little Oliver the principle of good surviving through every adverse circumstance, and triumphing at last; and when I considered among what companions I could try him best, having regard to that kind of men into whose hands he would most naturally fall,- I bethought myself of those who figure in these volumes. When I came to discuss the subject more maturely with myself, I saw many strong reasons for pursuing the course to which I was inclined. I had read of thieves by scores,— seductive fellows (amiable for the most part), faultless in dress, plump in pocket, choice in horse-flesh, bold in bearing, fortunate in gallantry, great at a song, a bottle, pack of cards, or dice-box, and fit companions for the bravest; but I had never met (except in HOGARTH) with the miserable reality. It appeared to me that to draw a knot of such associates in crime as really do exist; to paint them in all their deformity, in all their wretchedness, in all the squalid poverty of their lives; to show them as they really are, for ever skulking uneasily through the dirtiest paths of life, with the great, black, ghastly gallows closing up their prospect, turn them where they may, it appeared to me that to do this would be to attempt a something which was greatly needed, and which would be a service to society. And therefore I did it as I best could." See page 543.

CHARACTERS INTRODUCED.

Anny. A pauper. (Ch. xxiv, li.)

Artful Dodger, The. See DAWKINS, JOHN.

Barney. A villanous young Jew, with a chronic catarrh, employed at The Three Cripples Inn, Little Saffron Hill. (Ch. xv, xxii, xlii, xlv.)

Bates, Charley. A thief; one of Fagin's "apprentices." (Ch. ix, x, xii, xiii, xvi, xviii, xxv.) See DAWKINS, JOHN. Bayton. One of the poor of the parish. (Ch. v.)

Becky. Bar-maid at the Red Lion Inn.

Bedwin, Mrs. Mr. Brownlow's housekeeper. (Ch. xii, xiv, xvii, xli, li.)

Bet, or Betsy. A thief in Fagin's service, and a companion of Nancy. (Ch. ix, xiii, xvi, xviii.) See SIKES, BILL.

Bill. A grave-digger. (Ch. v.)

Blathers and Duff. Bow-street officers. (Ch. xxxi.)
Bolter, Morris. See CLAYpole, Noah.

Brittles. A servant at Mrs. Maylie's. (Ch. xxviii, xxx, xxxi, liii.) See GILES, MR.

Brownlow, Mr. A benevolent old gentleman, who takes Oliver into his house, and treats him kindly. (Ch. x-xii, xvi, xli, xlvi, xlix, li-liii.) See FANG (MR.), FAGIN, MONKS.

Bull's-eye. Bill Sikes's dog. (Ch. xiii, xv, xvi, xix, xxxix, xlviii, 1.) See SIKES, BILL.

Bumble, Mr. A beadle puffed up with the insolence of office. He visits the branch workhouse where Oliver Twist is "farmed," and is received with great attention by Mrs. Mann, the matron.

Mrs. Mann ushered the beadle into a small parlor with a brick floor, placed a seat for him, and officiously deposited his cocked hat and cane on the table before him. Mr. Bumble wiped from his forehead the perspiration which his walk had engendered, glanced complacently at the cocked hat, and smiled. Yes, he smiled. Beadles are but men; and Mr. Bumble smiled.

"Now, don't you be offended at what I'm a-going to say," observed Mrs. Mann with captivating sweetness. "You 've had a long walk, you know, or I would n't mention it. Now, will you take a little drop of something, Mr. Bumble?"

"Not a drop, not a drop," said Mr. Bumble, waving his right hand in a dignified but still placid manner.

"I think you will," said Mrs. Mann, who had noticed the tone of the refusal, and the gesture that had accompanied it,— “just a leetle drop, with a little cold water, and a lump of sugar."

Mr. Bumble coughed.

"Now, just a little drop," said Mrs. Mann persuasively.

"What is it?" inquired the beadle.

"Why, it's what I'm obliged to keep a little of in the house, to put in the blessed infants' daffy when they ain't well, Mr. Bumble," replied Mrs. Mann as she opened a corner cupboard, and took down a bottle and glass. "It's gin." "Do you give the children daffy, Mrs. Mann?” inquired Bumble, following with his eyes the interesting process of mixing.

"Ah, bless 'em! that I do, dear as it is," replied the nurse. 'em suffer before my eyes, you know, sir."

"I could n't see

"No," said Mr. Bumble approvingly; "no, you could not. You are a humane woman, Mrs. Mann." (Here she set down the glass.) "I shall take an early opportunity of mentioning it to the Board, Mrs. Mann." (He drew it towards him.) "You feel as a mother, Mrs. Mann." (He stirred the gin and water.) "I-I drink your health with cheerfulness, Mrs. Mann;" and he swallowed half of it.

"And now about business," said the beadle, taking out a leathern pocketbook. "The child that was half-baptized, Oliver Twist, is eight years old today."

"Bless him!" interposed Mrs. Mann, inflaming her left eye with the corner of her apron.

"And notwithstanding an offered reward of ten pound, which was afterwards increased to twenty pound; notwithstanding the most superlative, and, I may say, supernat❜ral exertions on the part of this parish," said Bumble, "we have never been able to discover who is his father, or what is his mother's settlement, name, or condition."

Mrs. Mann raised her hands in astonishment, but added, after a moment's reflection, "How comes he to have any name at all, then?"

The beadle drew himself up with great pride, and said, "I inwented it." "You, Mr. Bumble?"

"I, Mrs. Mann. We name our foundlin's in alphabetical order. The last was a S, Swubble: I named him. This was a T,-Twist: I named him. The next one as comes will be Unwin, and the next Vilkins. I have got names ready made to the end of the alphabet, and all the way through it again, when we come to Z."

66

'Why, you 're quite a literary character, sir," said Mrs. Mann.

"Well, well," said the beadle, evidently gratified with the compliment; "perhaps I may be, perhaps I may be, Mrs. Mann." He finished the gin and water, and added, "Oliver being now too old to remain here, the Board have determined to have him back into the house; and I have come out myself to take him there: so let me see him at once."

Mrs. Corney being matron of the workhouse, and the death of Mr. Slout, the master of the establishment, being daily expected, Mr. Bumble, who stands next in the order of succession, thinks it might be a good opportunity for "a joining of hearts and housekeepings." With this idea in his mind, he pays the lady a visit, and, while she is out of the room for a few moments, counts the spoons, weighs the sugar-tongs, closely inspects the silver milk-pot, takes a mental inventory of the furniture, and makes himself acquainted with the contents of a chest

of drawers. Upon her return, after some billing and cooing, she says “the one little, little, little word " he begs to hear, and bashfully consents to become Mrs. Bumble as soon as ever he pleases. But the course of Mr. Bumble's love does not run smooth after marriage; for his wife turns out to be a thorough shrew. When the first tiff occurs, Mrs. Bumble bursts into tears, but they do not serve to soften the heart of Mr. Bumble; for he smilingly bids her keep "It opens the lungs," he tells her, "washes the countenance, exercises the eyes, and softens the temper: so cry away." When, however, she changes her tactics, boldly flies at him, and gives him a sound and well-merited drubbing, he yields incontinently, and indulges in sad and solitary reflections. 'I sold myself," he says, "for six tea-spoons, a pair of sugar-tongs, and a milk-pot, with a small quantity of second-hand furniter, and twenty pound in money. I went very reasonable, cheap, dirt cheap."

on.

66

This precious pair are afterwards guilty, - first, of selling certain articles which were left in the workhouse by the mother of Oliver Twist, and which are necessary to his identification; and, secondly, of witnessing what they suppose to be the destruction of these articles. Brought before Mr. Brownlow, they are confronted with proofs and witnesses of their rascality; but Bumble excuses himself by saying, "It was all Mrs. Bumble. She would do it."

"That is no excuse," replied Mr. Brownlow. "You were present on the occasion of the destruction of these trinkets, and, indeed, are the more guilty of the two, in the eye of the law; for the law supposes that your wife acts under your direction."

"If the law supposes that," said Mr. Bumble, squeezing his hat emphatically in both hands, "the law is a ass, a idiot. If that's the eye of the law, the law's a bachelor; and the worst I wish the law is, that his eye may be opened by experience, by experience."

Notwithstanding this disclaimer of any personal responsibility in the matter, Mr. Bumble loses his situation, and retires with his wife to private life. (Ch. i, iii-v, vii, xvii, xxiii, xxxvii, xxxviii, li.) See DICK (LITTLE), TWIST (Oliver).

Charlotte. Servant to Mrs. Sowerberry; afterwards married to Noah Claypole. (Ch. iv-vi, xxvii, xlii, liii.)

Chitling, Tom. An "apprentice" of Fagin's; a "half-witted dupe," who makes a rather unsuccessful thief. (Ch. xviii, xxv, xxxix, l.)

Claypole, Noah. A chuckle-headed charity-boy, apprenticed to Mr. Sowerberry the undertaker. He afterwards goes to Lon

don, and becomes a thief. (Ch. v, vi, xxvii, xlii, xliii, xlvxlvii, liii.)

Corney, Mrs. Matron of a workhouse; afterwards married to Mr. Bumble. (Ch. xxiii, xxiv, xxvii, xxxvii, xxxviii, li.) See ВUMBLE, MR.

Crackit, Toby. A housebreaker. (Ch. xxiii, xxv, xxviii, xxxix, l.) Dawkins, John, called THE ARTFUL DODGER. A young pick

pocket in the service of Fagin the Jew. When Oliver Twist runs away from his master, and sets out for London, he meets the Artful Dodger on the road, who gives him something to eat, and afterwards takes him to Fagin's den.

...

"Don't fret your eyelids " said the young gentleman. "I've got to be in London to-night, and I know a 'spectable old genelman as lives there, wot 'll give you lodgings for nothink, and never ask for the change; that is, if any genelman he knows interduces you. And don't he know me? Oh, no! Not in the least! By no means! Certainly not!"

Although the Dodger is an adept in. thieving and knavery, he is detected at last in attempting to pick a gentleman's pocket, and is sentenced to transportation for life. While in court, he maintains his accustomed coolness, impudently chaffs the police-officers, asking the jailer to communicate " the names of them two files as was on the bench," and generally "doing full justice to his bringing-up, and establishing for himself a glorious reputation." When brought into court, he requests to know what he is "placed in that 'ere disgraceful sitivation for."

"Hold your tongue; will you ?" said the jailer.

"I'm an Englishman, ain't I?" rejoined the Dodger. "Where are my privileges?"

"You'll get your privileges soon enough," retorted the jailer, " and pepper with 'em."

"We'll see wot the Secretary of State for the Home Affairs has got to say to the beaks, if I don't," replied Mr. Dawkins. "Now, then, wot is this here business? I shall thank the madg'strates to dispose of this here little affair, and not to keep me while they read the paper; for I 've got an appointment with a gentleman in the city: and as I 'm a man of my word, and wery punctual in business-matters, he 'll go away if I ain't there to my time, and then, p'r'aps, there won't be an action for damage against those as kept me away. Oh, no! certainly not!"

The evidence against him is direct and conclusive; but the Dodger continues unabashed; and, when the magistrate asks him if he has any thing to say, he affects not to hear the question.

"Do you hear his worship ask you if you've any thing to say?" inquired the jailer, nudging the silent Dodger with his elbow.