The Sun.
London, England, 1841-07-01 00:00:00

EVENING SUN.
been obliged to admire the magnificent lesiahnelOrb
cott, an the creations. of many femal (.7
have, in those particular departments of li a allege
tnta
lhoolnse
ae
corrupt
r uenurenoepau
ltsli. a
intdadl say,
ssatetonisaot nrtrust
when w
asvthnyoto,
p,aaae thinkrsntydfaaorr of
mas
calnlastinsl i
i:oa
aity2
uc
a popularity—(Great cheering)—to what4tetti ,
the popularity of such a man be attribut?Atifisk ale
that insight—that almost Divine insight—into the
working of human nature, its passions and affec-
tions, to that comprehensive soul and tender he-art
which sympathises with all the griefs, sorrows, rap-
tures, joys, and agonies of his fellow mei.—(Cheers.)
Yes, Gentlemen, Ladies and Gentiedlen, yes
(Cheers and laughter)—his fame has been achieved by
powers which are expressed in one word, the greatest of
all words when applied to an author—originality.
(Loud cheers.) Without originality, no man has ever
gained a very splendid reputation. It is true that some
men, with delicacy of eentiment, and with ardent and
conscious sensibility, and with a truthful eye and a
feeling heart—with these qualities sonic men had gained
considerable reputation; but still, when a man strikes
out a path for himself, or strikes out on some path which
if trodden at all by men's feet, has been trodden by the
vulgar—it may be the vicious or the wicked—when such
a path has been struck out and and assiduously and suc-
cessfully followed, there falls upon that man the mantle
of original genius, of a power which is felt to be
great and universal—which speaks to the learhed and
to the unlearned, to the wise and to the foolish—to
those whose minds are cultivated in all their powers,
and to those who are without any mental cultivation
at all, but who, nevertheless, possess the mental de-
velopment by which they are made sensible of some-
thing within them, the existence of which they had not
before noticed, until the sudden revelations of geniue
made them familiar with things with which they had
been conversant all their life, but of which they had
suspected not the power, nor the grandeur, nor the pa-
thos. Like all those men whose names I have men-
tioned, our friend has dealt with the common feelings
and passions of ordinary men, in the common and Ordi-
nary paths of life. He has not sought—at least he has
not yet sought—to deal with those thoughts and pas-
sions that are made conspicuous from afar, by the ele-
vated stations of those who experience them. He has
mingled in the common walks of life—he has made
himself familiar with the lower orders of society. He
has not been deterred by the aspect of vice and wicked-
ness, and misery and guilt, from seeking a spirit of
good in things evil, but has endeavoured by the might
of genius to transmute what was base into what was
precious as the beaten gold.(Loud cheers.) In what
is genius made so manifest as in detecting in the ordi-
nary occurrences of life—in discovering, in the unin-
viting and flat surface of society, themes which, when
touched by a pencil of light, are read and studied by
those who knew not before the witchery of the faded
cheek, the solitary sigh, and the glistening tear, among
the squalid filth and dregs of life? But I shall be be-
trayed if I go on much longer—which it would be im-
proper for me.to do—into something like a critical de-
lineation of the genius of our illustrious guess. I shall
not do so ' • but I cannot but express, in a few and inef-
fectual words, that delight which every human bosom
feels in the benign spirit which pervades all his crea-
tions. How kind and good a man he is, I need not say,
nor what strength of genius he has acquired by that
profound sympathy with his fellow-creatures, whether
in prosperity and happiness, or overwhelmed with un-
fortunate circumstances, but who do not yet sink under
their miseries, but trust to their own strength of endu-
rance, to that principle of truth, and honour, and inte-
grity, which is no stranger to the uncultivated bosom,
which is found in the lowest abodes in as great strength
as in the halls of nobles and the palaces of kings.—
(Great applause.) Mr. Dickens is also a satirist. He
satirises human life ; but he does not satirise it to de-
grade it. He does not wish to pull down what is high,
into the neighbourhood of what is low. He does not
seek to represent all virtue as a hollow thing in which no
confidence can be placed. He satirises only the selfish
and the hard-hearted, and the cruel ; he exposes, in a
hideous light that principle which, when acted upon,
gives a power to men in the lowest grades to carry on a
more terrific tyranny than if placed upon thrones.—
(Great applause.) I shall not say—for I do not feel—
that our distinguished guest has done full and entire jus-
tice to one subject—that he has entirely succeeded where
I have no doubt he would be most anxious to succeed,
in a full and complete delineation of the female charac-
ter. Who has ? I suppose, with the single exception of
Shakspearc, it is felt that in almost every delineation of
female virtue and goodness there is always something
inadequate—something, which does not completely fulfil
the desire of our heart, and which does not accord with
our own happy and blessed experience. But this he has
done. He has not endeavoured to represent them as charm-
ing merely by the aid of accomplishments, however elegant
and graceful. He has not depicted those accomplish-
ments as the essentials of their character, but has spoken
of them rather as always inspired by a love of domestic
duty, by fidelity, by purity, by innocence, by charity,
and by hope, which makes them discharge, under the
most difficult circumstances, their duties, and which
brings over their path in this world some glimpses of
the light of heaven.—(Great applatise.) I shall pro-
ceed no farther in this course, which I again say I in-
tended to avoid, and I shall conclude with a very few
words. Mr. Dickens may be assured that there is felt
for him all over Scotland sentiments of kindness; affec-
tion, admiration, and love—(Loud cheers)—and I know,
for certain, that the knowledge of these sentiments
must make him happy ; for I know, though he has
been but a short time in our country—(and I trust
he will be oftener here and for a longer period)—
(Cheers)—l know well that his heart turns with fond-
ness to the lovely and endearing image of Scotland—l
know well that the dream of his past enthusiasm, and
of his imagination, has been the unequalled beauties and
sublimities of our country; but far beyond them, dear to
him, must be our time-honoured institutions—our bel-
lowed habits—our holy customs, which have risen and
grown and flourished round the domestic hearth—that
sacred scene, where every virtue attains its full develop-
ment. In this country there is still an unshaken, heart-
felt, awe-struck, sense of religion; and when he loons at
our kirks in their solitary situations, though now not so-
litary, for thank Heaven they are numerous , he will
understand those feelings, deeper than genius can express,
or imagination conceive—how deep-seated in every bosom
are those impressions, which, while they adorn and ele-
vate the present life, give hopes and consolations to the
life that is to come. With these few thoughts, inade-
quately expressed—for I came here unprepared, and
scarcely able to speak with that energy which I ought
to have done, I beg to propose the health of Mr.
njokons.—(Lud and long-continued cheering.)
Mr. DrczENs was received with enthusiastic applam e.
He said--If i felt your warm and generous welcome lesee
I should be beto:er
haabvlee tolisttehanne, .thank etneau.thelf
gllecnoiunlgd
Bursa
listened, as you
lan-
guage of your distinguished Chairman—and if'
I could have heaa'd, as you have heard, the
" thoughts
hehas that
uttered, brietawthneuldtenficl:l7veordsgontehhaatrdbuhrnut,';
shouldwich
have caught some portion of th,e enthusiasm, and kindled
at his example. But every word which fell from his lips,
and every demonstration of sympathy and approbation
with which you received his eloquent expressions, ren-
der me unable to respond to his kindness. and leave me
at least all heart and no lips.—(Great cheering.) Yearn-
ing to respond as I would do to your cordial greeting—
possessing, Heaven knows, the will, and desiring only
to find the way—the. way to your good opinion, favour,
and support, has been to me very pleasant, a path
strewn with flowers, and cheered with sunshine—d feel
as if I stood amongst old friends, whom I had inti-
mately known and highly valued. I feel as if the deaths
of the fictitious creatures, in which you have been kind
enough to express an interest, had endeared us to each
other, as real afflictions deepen friendships in actual
life. I feel as if they had been real persons, whose for-
tunes we had pursued together in inseparable connec-
tion, and, that I had never known them apart from you.
It is a difficult thing for a man to speak of himself or
of his works. But, perhaps, on thisoccasi()n,thlenieer
without impropriety, venture to say _ word °n
spi-
rit in which mine were conceived.
humble desire, and shall do till I die,
_
flt that the world
feittoaninecreaseset and
stock of harmless cheerfulness.
Ithat it was worthy of
was not utterly to be desp
living in for many reasons.
the Professor has said, ifthl
great Creator kas put in
soul of goodness whichinanexviesthWingsfin,d'thanst
n the bye-ways of the
worewith rags—and to keep steadily
with poverty and even
expressed in the burning words
them. I was anxious toslidoewisclclot:tihl'ilavadatt'sivtiirstuneetmianeerambepafotiuhre
through life the motto,
poet--
The rank is,
goud for a' that.—(Loud cheers.)
srhteciapadeate of the little heroine.
is but the guinea stamp,
ofA nyd• your e Northernrotahnstfollowingie
PN°eeas right, or where could I have
this track, where could I have better
assurance
incident,'). which am happy
stronger assuL'arlee to cheer mee
an
night.—(Loud
ttph—oarntli
eni
ut
opportunity
oouefrh eekind-
nesss. saying)
st.ill‘m ei: happy to
e,
an6d
aradoxic_ al, that you were
teat
idea of conducting talo'aik'monroOdawnni nxt
ilyoirstuitsfit:rawellnienl lereeer ulimatildt interested, eco
know, though thilnotedugh,
first it
icommnaceyeaisnvoeudt.nheeth e
simple story to its termination, 1 determined rigidly to
adhere to it, and never to forsake the end I had in view.
Not untried in the school of affliction in the death of
those we love, I thought what a good thiieg it would be
if, in my little work of pleasant areusemei2t, I could
substitute a garland of fresh flowers for the senlptured
horrors which disgrace the tomb. If I have pelt into
my book anything which can fill the young
mindwith better thoughts of death, or soften the grief of
older hearts : if I have written one word which can
afford pleasure or consolation to old or young in time
of trial, I shall considered it as something achieved—
something which I shall he glad to look back upon in
after life. Therefore I kept to my purpose, notwith-
standing that towards the conclusion of the story, I
daily received scores of letters of remonstrance, espe-
cially from the ladies—God bless them for their tender
mercies—the Professor was quite right when he said
that I had not reached to an adequate delineation of
their virtues ; and I fear that I must go on blotting
their characters in endeavouring to reach the ideal I
have in my mind.—(Cheers.) These letters were, how-
ever, combined with others from the sterner sex, and
some of them were not altogether free from personal in-
vective. But notwithstanding I kept to my purpose;
and I am happy to know that many of those who at first
condemned me are now foremost in their approbation.
If I have made a mistake in detaining you with this
little incident, I do not regret having done so ; fof 'your
kindness has given me such a confidence in you that
the fault is yours and not mine. I come once more to
thank you ; and here I am in difficulty againd.rwerahaiehs.telTdiae-t
tiuction you have conferred upon me is one which I
never
I shall epv
.eidivi,criaoinuldei3olifoa
of its
hintiestrl remembrance,fnoer
youdared tthat()
know. I believe I shall never hear the name of till