notion of severance,
therefore, was somewhat sentimental.

But the "dissensions" the President spoke of were natural enough. He was
the founder and mainstay of the association--probably paid its expenses.
The whole object of the institution, it may be suspected, was to exalt
the founder. In such a state of things, it was natural that there should
be an opposition, or discontented party, headed by "that Blotton." When
Blotton was got rid of, his friends would think that he had been badly
treated and take advantage of the occasional absences of the chief to
foment revolt. Then Blotton was expelled, assuredly unfairly, for he
merely took the opposite view on the Cobham stone, and he might have left
some who belonged to his faction and who thought he had been harshly
dealt with. Mr. Pickwick, in fact, merely returned from his agreeable
junketting to have this gentleman expelled. Despotism of this sort
always leads to discontent and parties--hence the "dissensions." Mr.
Pickwick, from his treatment of Blotton, must have been a Tory of the old
Eldon school. Here was his blemish. He had no toleration for others,
and had an undue idea of his own position. We can trace the whole thing
perfectly. He was a successful man of business--an export merchant
apparently--being connected with an agent at Liverpool whom he had
"obliged." Round such a man who was good-natured and philanthropic would
gather flatterers and toadies; hence the suggestion to found a club with
his own name and "button." Of this he could be "Boss," and he was
listened to and courted. It was like the devotion of satellites to the
late Mr. Gladstone. We can see all this in the picture of the club at
the beginning, where, with the exception of the four legitimate
Pickwickians, all seem rather of the tradesman class, and are vulgar
types enough. In such surroundings, Mr. Pickwick could "rule the roast"
and grow despotic and even arrogant.

Blotton, however, who seems to have been an independent sort of fellow,
could not submit to this, was of the Opposition, and, no doubt, a thorn
in Mr. Pickwick's side. And here is yet another point of the likeness to
the Johnsonian coterie. In "The Club," Hawkins--Sir John of that ilk--was
uncongenial--"a detestable fellow," Bozzy calls him--objecting,
quarrelling, and, at last, on one occasion was so rude that he had to
withdraw. Now, that this offence was rankling is evident, and it
explains the fracas which t