"In less than six months
from the appearance of the first number of the 'Pickwick Papers,'" said
the _London Quarterly Review_ in 1837, "the whole reading public were
talking about them, the names of Winkle, Warden, Weller, Snodgrass,
Dodson and Fogg, had become familiar in our mouths as household terms;
and Mr. Dickens was the grand object of interest to the whole tribe of
'Leo-hunters,' male and female, of the metropolis. Nay, Pickwick
chintzes figured in linen-drapers' windows, and Weller corduroys in
breeches-makers' advertisements; Boz cabs might be seen rattling
through the streets; and the portrait of the author of 'Pelham' or
'Crichton' was scraped down or pasted over to make room for that of the
new popular favourite in the omnibuses." For forty years the writings
of this great novelist have held their place in the public esteem
without any sensible diminution. Hundreds of thousands, old and young,
in Great Britain, in America, in every country of Europe, have followed
the fortunes of Nicholas Nickleby, of David Copperfield, of Oliver
Twist, and of numberless other celebrated characters with unflagging
interest. Perhaps Dickens' most remarkable achievement lay in the
number of his creations, and in the distinctness with which he could
impress them on the memory of his readers.
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