The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1870-07-09 00:00:00

STORIES OF CHARLES DICKENS.

A few months before his death Mr. Dickens received
a letter, setting forth that the writer, wno had origi.
natty commenced life in a humble position, bad nuc.
cseded by industry in amasieirg a considerate fortune.
lie ascribed his success to a culiivation of the generous
human errata:hies which had been inculcated in him
during his youth by the etudy of Mr. Dick cue,. works,
and he wishe I to umke to their author soma substantial
acknowledgment of the benett he had derived from
them, lie proposed, in fact, to place a cheque for
£3OO at lit+ oieposal, Mr. Llickehs reply was charac-
teristic. He stated that, though not a man of fortune
his affairs was prosperous; and while declining the
proposal then made, he was so gratified at the spirit
in which it was made, and the circumstances which
suggested it, that he would accept snare small memorial
which could bear an inscription recording those Mr.
cumstsuce• Such • memorial, in excellent taste, and
of considerable value, was speedily forwarded to Mr.
Dickens by his correspondent.
Vhe Continental journals are full of anecdotes re-
epecting the lamented novelist, which sometimes do
credit to the powers of imagination possessed by the
writer?, but can scarcely be accepted as credible. One
is to the effect that overwork had made Mr. Dickene
so eccentric in his habits, that he turned day into
night, and was in the habit of walking the streets of
London from midnight to live in the morning. On
the occasion of one of there walks, the great novelist
observed a lady of respectable appearance following
him. Night after night she followed him. At lest
they me: face to face, and the lady declared, in great
agitation, " Charles Dickens, you have done me much
injury. I can no more rest. Look at me so that you
may remember, me, for I desire to be reuleadsoreiL
You will ste me no more.'' Mr. Dickens soon after-
wards ascertained that she was the wife of a cslonel in
the Indian army. In a few days came • casket of

ebony

asTii ivory to the novelist, containing a portrait
of the lady, a lock of her hair, and this note—" I
have loved you madly. But the love I have given to
you I owe to another. lam of my own free will
going to another world, where I may think of you
without treachery, Pity me." It was signed, " The
lady of the other night," Air. Dickens flew to her
house, to find that she was dead with a dagger in her
heart. Another of these stories is of a female of more
aggressive character. This woman led a scandelous
life, but presumed to fall in love with the novelist,
and to write him ardent letters, to which he sent no
reply. The woman determined on revenge, and tried
to stab the novelist as he was coming out of a theatre.
But such was the humanity of Charles Dickens, that
his only desire was to save the unfortunate woman
from the legal consequences of her infatuation. He
snatched her from the witness of her attempted crime ;
thrust her into his own carnage; put his coachman in
with her t, keep her quiet (oh ! most benevolent coach.
man !), ad nimself ascended the box, took the whip,
and drove away.