Generosity and Forgiveness Theme Analysis

‘We were trespassing, it seems,’ said Wardle.

‘I don’t care,’ said Mr Pickwick, ‘I’ll bring the action.’

‘No, you won’t,’ said Wardle.

‘I will, by – ’ but as there was a humorous expression in Wardle’s face, Mr Pickwick checked himself, and said – ‘Why not?’

‘Because,’ said old Wardle, half-bursting with laughter, ‘because they might turn round on some of us, and say we had taken too much cold punch.’

Do what he would, a smile would come into Mr Pickwick’s face; the smile extended into a laugh, the laugh into a roar, and the roar became general. So, to keep up their good humour, they stopped at the first road-side tavern they came to, and ordered a glass of brandy and water all round, with a magnum of extra strength, for Mr Samuel Weller.’

“Nothin’ else,’ said Mr Weller, shaking his head gravely; ‘and wot aggrawates me, Samivel, is to see ’em a wastin’ all their time and labour in making clothes for copper-coloured people as don’t want ’em, and taking no notice of the flesh-coloured Christians as do. If I’d my vay, Samivel, I’d just stick some o’ these here lazy shepherds behind a heavy wheelbarrow, and run ’em up and down a fourteen-inch-wide plank all day. That ’ud shake the nonsense out of ’em, if anythin’ vould.’

Mr Weller having delivered this gentle recipe with strong emphasis, eked out by a variety of nods and contortions of the eye, emptied his glass at a draught, and knocked the ashes out of his pipe, with native dignity.”

‘Our invariable custom,’ replied Mr Wardle. ‘Every body sits down with us on Christmas eve, as you see them now – servants and all; and here we wait till the clock strikes twelve, to usher Christmas in, and while away the time with forfeits and old stories. Trundle, my boy, rake up the fire.’

Mr Pickwick felt a great deal too much touched by the warmth of Sam’s attachment, to be able to exhibit any manifestation of anger or displeasure at the precipitate course he had adopted, in voluntarily consigning himself to a debtors’ prison for an indefinite period. The only point on which he persevered in demanding any explanation, was, the name of Sam’s detaining creditor, but this Mr Weller as perseveringly withheld.

At three o’clock that afternoon, Mr Pickwick took a last look at his little room, and made his way as well as he could, through the throng of debtors who pressed eagerly forward to shake him by the hand, until he reached the lodge steps. He turned here to look about him, and his eye lightened as he did so. In all the crowd of wan emaciated faces, he saw not one which was not the happier for his sympathy and charity.

In compliance with this unceremonious invitation, Jingle and Job walked into the room, but, seeing Mr Pickwick, stopped short in some confusion.

‘Well,’ said Perker, ‘don’t you know that gentleman?’

‘Good reason to,’ replied Jingle, stepping forward. ‘Mr Pickwick – deepest obligations – life preserver – made a man of me – you shall never repent it, Sir.’

‘I am happy to hear you say so,’ said Mr Pickwick. ‘You look much better.’

Mr Pickwick is somewhat infirm now; but he retains all his former juvenility of spirit, and may still be frequently seen, contemplating the pictures in the Dulwich Gallery, or enjoying a walk about the pleasant neighbourhood on a fine day. He is known by all the poor people about, who never fail to take their hats off, as he passes, with great respect. The children idolise him, and so indeed does the whole neighbourhood. Every year he repairs to a large family merry-making at Mr Wardle’s; on this, as on all other occasions, he is invariably attended by the faithful Sam, between whom and his master there exists a steady and reciprocal attachment which nothing but death will sever.