

                                Charles Dickens

                                 Oliver Twist,

                                       or

                                        

                           The Parish Boy's Progress

                                    Preface

Once upon a time it was held to be a coarse and shocking circumstance, that some
of the characters in these pages are chosen from the most criminal and degraded
of London's population.
    As I saw no reason, when I wrote this book, why the dregs of life (so long
as their speech did not offend the ear) should not serve the purpose of a moral,
as well as its froth and cream, I made bold to believe that this same Once upon
a time would not prove to be All-time or even a long time. I saw many strong
reasons for pursuing my course. I had read of thieves by scores; seductive
fellows (amiable for the most part), faultless in dress, plump in pocket, choice
in horse-flesh, bold in bearing, fortunate in gallantry, great at a song, a
bottle, pack of cards or dice-box, and fit companions for the bravest. But I had
never met (except in HOGARTH) with the miserable reality. It appeared to me that
to draw a knot of such associates in crime as really did exist; to paint them in
all their deformity, in all their wretchedness, in all the squalid misery of
their lives; to show them as they really were, for ever skulking uneasily
through the dirtiest paths of life, with the great black ghastly gallows closing
up their prospect, turn them where they might; it appeared to me that to do
this, would be to attempt a something which was needed, and which would be a
service to society. And I did it as I best could.
    In every book I know, where such characters are treated of, allurements and
fascinations are thrown around them. Even in the Beggar's Opera, the thieves are
represented as leading a life which is rather to be envied than otherwise: while
MACHEATH, with all the captivations of command, and the devotion of the most
beautiful girl and only pure character in the piece, is as much to be admired
and emulated by weak beholders, as any fine gentleman in a red coat who has
purchased, as VOLTAIRE says, the right to command a couple of thousand men, or
so, and to affront death at their head. Johnson's question, whether any man will
turn thief because Macheath is reprieved, seems to me beside the matter. I ask
myself, whether any man will be deterred from turning thief, because of
Macheath's being sentenced to death, and because of the existence of Peachum and
