Bill Sikes, on occasion, drank brandy “at a furious rate”; but more often poverty prevented his slaking his thirst on anything more deadly than Spitalfields ale, or eleemosynary gin. The whole of Mr. Fagin’s pupils drank whenever opportunity offered, either malt liquor or gin-and-water out of pewter pots; but the Jew himself, with the innate caution of his race, avoided the wiles of the bowl. Nancy was an “habitual,” in her youth, most probably, or she would not have chummed up with such a criminal crew; and as for Monks, the disorder known as {221} _delirium tremens_ was no stranger to him. Bumble and his wife were not averse to a social glass; and even the charity-boy, Noah Claypole, indulged, during the absence of his master, the undertaker, in oysters, porter, and some sort of wine, name not mentioned. As far as we are told, the decent members of society in _Oliver Twist_ were very moderate in their potations; although it is in my mind that Mr. Fang, the stipendiary, was a port-wine man. In _The Old Curiosity Shop_ we get allusions to liquids of all kinds, from orange-peel and water, the favourite beverage of the Marchioness, to the truly-awful “wanities” of Quilp, which took the form of over-proof rum, boiled, burnt brandy, or raw Schiedam out of a keg. Quilp, by the way, if amusing enough, is the most exaggerated character ever invented by the great novelist, and has no business out of the realms of pantomime. But he was very, very funny, as impersonated by “Johnny” Clarke in the long ago. Dick Swiveller was a swindler by profession, although like many of these a boon companion, speechifier, and framer of jovial sentiments. The “rosy wine” was represented at his humble home by geneva-and-water, and his astonishment when Mr. Brass’ lodger made a brew of “extraordinary” rum-and-water in “a kind of temple, shining as of polished silver,” at the same time cooking a steak, an egg, and a cup of coffee, in the same temple, can only have been exceeded by his joy at getting something really decent to drink. The strolling performers with whom Nell and Grandfather travelled did themselves {222} particularly well, especially dear old Mrs. Jarley, whose consideration for her own comforts was fully equalled by her desire for the worldly welfare of others. In _Bleak House_ allusions to the bowl are infrequent. The rag-shop “Lord Chancellor” cremated himself with the aid of gin, and Mr. Tulkinghorn had a weakness for old port. Mr. Bucket favoured brown sherry, and Harold Skimpole would nibble a peach and sip claret, with an execution in his house. This is one of the best characters drawn by Dickens; and although the type is not a familiar one, I have met him in the flesh.