The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1864-02-25
Dickens ON Thaclzeray.

dickens, opens the february number of the
Cor@biU Nagazine:
at has been desired by some of the per-
sonal friends Of the great English writer who
established this magazine, that its brief rec
ord Of his having been stricken from among
men, should be written by the old conlrade
and brother in-arms who pens these lines
and OF whom he often wrote himself, and al
ways with the Warnlest generosity.
u saw him first nearly twenty-eight
years ago, when he proposed to become the
illustrator Of my earliest book. | saw him
last shortly before Christmas, at the Athen-
oeum Club, when he told me that he had
been in bed three days-that, after these at
tacks he was covered with cold shivernqs
which quite took the power of work out of
him'-and that he had it in his mind to try
a new remedy, which he laughingly describ-
ed, He was very cheerful and looked very
bright. In the night Of that day week he
died.
''Ihe long interval between those two pc
RODS is marked in my remembrance of him
by many occasions when he was supreneIy
humorous, when he was irresistibly extrava-
giant, when he was softened and serious.
when he was charming with children. But,
by none do ! recall him more tenderly than
by two Or three that start out of the crowd,
when he unexpectedly presented himself in
my room, announcing how that some pas
sage III certain book had made him cry
yesterday, and how that he had come to dim
ner, because he couldn't help it. and must
talk some passage over. No one can ever
have seen him more genial, natu-
raj, cordial, fresh and honestly impulsive,
than l lave seen him at those times. No
one can be surer than I, of the greatness
and the goodness of the heart that then dis
closed itself
"We had our differences of opinion. |
thought he too much feined want of ear
nestness, and that be made pretence of un
dervaluing his art, which was not good for
the art which he held in trust. But when
he fell upon these topics, it was never very
graYely, and ! have a lively image of hilu in
my mind, twisting both his hands in his
halr, and stamping about, laughing, to
make an end of the discussion.
When we were associated in remembrance
OF the late Mr. Douglas Jerrold, he delivered
a public lecture in London, i'll the course of
which he read his very best contribution to
P4ach describing the grown up cares Of q
poor family OF young children. No one
hearing him could have doubted his natural
gentleness, or his thoroughly unaffected
manly sympathy with the weak and lowy
lie read the paper most pathetically, aud
with a simplicity Of tenderness that certain
~ moved one of his audience to tears. This
was presently after his standing for OXford,
from which place he had dispatched his agent
to me, with a drolI note Ito which he after
wards added d verbal postscript urging me
to come and make a speech, and tell them
who he was, 1or he doubted whether more
than two OF the electors had ever heard Of
HIM, and he thought there might be as many
as SIX or eight who had heard Of me lie
the lecture Just mentioned with
q reference 10 bis late alectiouaering failure,
which was full Of COOL sense, good spirits
and good hunor.
''lLe had a particular delight in boys and
an excellent way with them. / remember his
once asking me with fantastic gravity, when
he had been to Elton, where my eldest boy
then was, whether Z felt as he did, in regard
Of never seeing boy without wanting in
stantly to give MIN sovereign [ thought
Of this when ] looked down into his grave,
over the shoulder Of boy to whom he had
been kind.
''These are slight remenlbrances; but it
is to little familiar things, suggestive Of the
voice look, manner never, never to be en-
cOuntered on this earth, that the mind first
turns in bereavement. And greater things
that are known Of him, in the way Of his
warm affections his quiet endurance, his
1nseiish thoughtfullnesS for others, and his
munificent hand, may not be told
off, in the reckless vivacity Of his youth
his satirical pen had ever gone astray or
done aniiss lie had caused it to prefer its own
petition for forgiveness, long before
''Ive writ the foolish fancy of his brain
The.aimiess JEST that striking bath caused Uail
The idle word that he'd wisil bac!, agai
Gu no pages should take it upon rlyself
1t this time to discourse of his books, Of his
refined knowledge Of character, Of his subtle
acquaintance with the weakness Of human
nature Of his delightful pIayfuIness as an es-
sayist, Of his quaint and touching ballads of
his mastery over the English language; least
Of all, III these pages, enriched by his brill
liant qualities from the first of the series, and
beforehand accepted by the public through
the strength Of his great name.
'But,on the table before me, there lies all
that he had written of his latest and last
story. That it would be very sad to any enc
that it is inexpressibly 50 to the writer
IN its evidences Of mdtured designs never to
be accomplished, Of intentions begun TO be |
executed and destined never to DO completed,
ofcaretul preparation forlong roads ofthOugbt
That he was never to traverse, and for shin
ng goals that he was never to reach, viii be |
readily believed. The pain, however, that ] !
nave felt in perusing it, has not been deeper
,lIan the conviction that he was in the health
est vigor Of his powers when he wrought
)n this last labor. la respect Of earnest feel
ng, far-seeing purpose, character incident,
md a certain loving picturcsqu eness blend !
ng the whole, | believe it to be much the
oest OF all his works. That he fully meant
t to be so, that be had become strongly at
ached to it, aud that he bestowed great
pains upon it, | trace in almost every page I
It contains one picture which must have
;ost HIM extreme Distress and which is a
masterpiece There are two children in it,
,ouched with a hand as loving and tender az
sver father carress3d his little child with.
There is some young love, as pure and ipno
cent and pretty as thetruth. And it is very
that by reason of the singular
construction of the story, more than one main
Incident usually belonging to the end Of such
, fiction is anticipated in the beginning, and
hus there is an approach to completeness in
he fragment, as to the satisfaction Of the
leaders, mind concerning the most interest |
ng persons, which could hardly have been
oetter attained if the writer's breaking oil
had been, folesoen.
'The last line be wrote and the last proof
le corrected, are among these papers through
which I have so sgrroWfliiy made MY way.
The condition Of the little pages Of manu-
script. where death stopped his hand, shows
hat he had carried them about, and often
aiken them out Of his pocket here and
here, for patient revision and interliueation
The last words he corrected in print were,
And my heart tlrobbed with an exquisite
bliss God grant that on that Christmas
I've, when he laid his head back on the pill |
ow and threw up his arms as he had been
Won't to do when very. weary. Some coneC,ie,te