ook place at the opening. Blotton looked on
Mr. Pickwick's travelling as pure humbug. The idea of his contributing
anything useful or instructive in his so-called reports seemed nonsense.
Further, was it not something of a job? Pickwick was taking three of his
own special "creatures" with him--Winkle, to whom he had been appointed
governor; Snodgrass, who was his ward; and Tupman, who was his butt and
toady. They were the _gentlemen_ of the club. None of the outsiders
were chosen. From Blotton's behaviour, too, on the Cobham business, it
is clear he thought Mr. Pickwick's scientific researches were also
"humbug." A paper by that gentleman had just been read--"The tracing of
the source of the ponds at Hampstead" and "Some observations on the
theory of tittlebats." There was somewhat too much of this "bossing."
The whole report read by the secretary was full of gross flatteries. They
had "just heard read with feelings of unmingled satisfaction and
unqualified approval," &c., "from which advantages must accrue to the
cause of science"--cause of rubbish! Then, it added, obsequiously,
something about "the _inestimable_ benefits from carrying the
speculations of that _learned_ man" &c. Mr. Pickwick, in his speech, was
certainly self-laudatory and provocative. He talked of his pride in
promoting the Tittlebatian theory, and "let _his enemies make the most of
it_." This was marked enough, and no doubt caused looks at Blotton. Then
he began to puff his new enterprise at "a service of some danger."

There were, were there not, upsets of coaches "in all directions," horses
bolting--boats overturning, and boilers bursting? Now, Blotton--after
all the humbug that had gone before, and particularly after a provocative
reference to himself--could not stand this, and, amid the obsequious
cries and "cheers," said, boldly, "No!" (A Voice: "No!") That is,
signifying there were no such dangers. The fury of the orator on "the
Windsor chair," was quite Gladstonian. "No!" he cried; on which the
cheers of his followers broke out. "Who was it that cried No?" Then he
proceeded to imagine it came from some "vain and disappointed man--he
wouldn't say haberdasher."

To the Pickwick Club there was a Vice-President, named Smiggers--Joseph
Smiggers, Esq., P.V.P.M.P.C., that is, Perpetual Vice-President and
Member of the Pickwick Club. Smiggers was, of course, supposed to be
"Pickwick's creature," or he would not have been there.