The Sun.
London, England, 1839-07-04 00:00:00

NICHOLAS NICKLEBY.

The Sixteenth Number, (which is the one before us,)
is one of the best, if not the best, of this admirable tale,
that we have yet read. In description, dialogue, and
the development of incident, it leaves nothing to be de-
sired. The scene where the madman is discovered in
Mrs. Nickleby's chimney, singing a love song, with his
voice half suffocated with soot, and his legs sticking out
in front of the fire place, shows how keen is Boz's ap-
prehension of the humourous ; but better even than this,
are Mrs. Nickleby's comments on the conduct of the
lunatic, eliciting, as they do, some exquisitely natural
touches of self-conceit. We should premise that the
good lady had already had one or two interviews with
him—for he was her next door neighbour—on which oc-
casions, she attributed all his high-flown, frantic compli-
ments, to the excess of his love for her, her vanity
blinding her to their manifest absurdity ; in the present
instance, however, the maniac's disorder takes a new
turn, and instead of flattering her as before, he addresses
her as follows :
" Avaunt—Cat
" Sir I" cried Mrs. Nickleby, in a faint tone.
" Cat I" repeated the old gentleman, " Puss, Kit, Tit,
Grimalkin, Tabby, Brindle—Whoosh I" With the last
word, uttered in a hissing manner, between his teeth, the
old gentleman swung his arms violently round and round.
" Mrs. Nickleby wasted no words, but uttered an ex-
clamation of horror and surprise, and immediately fainted
away.
" Kate," murmured Mrs. Nickleby, reviving when the
coast was clear, " Is he gone ?"
" She was assured that he was.
" I shall never forgive myself, Kate," said Mrs.
Nickleby—" never." That gentleman has lost his senses,
and I am the unhappy cause."
" You the cause ?" said Kate, greatly astonished.
"I, my love," replied Mrs. Nickleby, with a desperate
calmness. " You saw what he was the other day—you
ACC what he is now. Making allowance for his being a
little flighty, you know how rationally, and sensibly and
honourably he talked, when we saw him in the garden
You have heard the dreadful nonsense he has been guilty of
this night ; can any body doubt how all this has been
brought about ?"

There is nothing in Fielding better than this. It is
as true to nature, as that famous scene in " Joseph
Andrews," where Parson Adams offers to walk four
miles in the rain to fetch his favourite " Sermon on
Vanity," in order to show that he has not a particle of
that weakness in his nature ! But Boz is remarkable

for his nice observance of character ; indeed, this is his
prominent excellence, and brought out, as it usually is,
by means of apt dialogue abounding in case, and truth,
and spirit, no wonder that it carries all before it. The
sketch of the old miser, Arthur Gride, is not one of our
author's most felicitous sketches. There is something
strained and exaggerated about it ; but the account of
the man's dwelling, or rather den, is conceived and ex-
pressed with singular skill and energy. The subjoined
passage will show how strongly Bez feels his descriptions,
and how active and constantly on the alert is his sense
of humanity. What novelist but himself would
ever dream of endowing a house-clock with vitality
—making it, in fact, a sentient being ?—" A tall,
grim clock upon the stairs, with long, lean bands and
famished face, ticked in cautious whispers, and
when it struck the time in thin and piping. sounds,
like an old man's voice, it rattled, as if it were pinched
with hunger." We have said that Boz is remarkable
for his nice observance of every-day life and peculiari-
ties, his sketch of the Miser's housekeeper whom he
represents as talking " in that subdued tone in which
deaf people commonly speak," is a striking instance in
point. The illustrations to this Number, by Phiz, are
admirable. The figure of Tim Linkinwater marching
in a showoff style to captizav the supposed thief in the
chimney, with the tongs clutched with a fierce grasp in
his hands, and his grave, sp ectacied face, evincing quite
an heroic determination of purpose, is far superior, we
think, to any of Cruickshank's recent sketches.