Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1870-06-24
Charles Dickens.

GuBlduH, I, 1919
making him fifty. eight years old at the
time Of his death. He was the son of
John Dickens, a retired naval paymaster
and journalist. Charles was put to study
for an attorney, but at about twenty-one
years old he tired of the drudgery of his
calling and took to journalism, being at
tached at different times to the Ir9e Sun
and the Morning Otronicle. 1t was the
latter journal in which appeared those
sketches of low life in London which
made the nom dc plume of their author
Boz $50 popular. His first published
book was collection of these "Boz"
sketches, in 1885. This was followed by
the other famous works of Mr.. Dickens,
in the following order: The Pickwick
Papers, 1887; Oliver Twist, 1888; Nicho-
las Nickleby, 1889; Memoirs of Joseph
Grimaldi, 1910; Old Curiosity Shop, and
Barnaby Rudge, 1S4l; American Notes,
1912; Christmas Carol, 1S43 Martin
Chuzzlewit, 1S46; Dombey and Son, 1S4S;
David Copperfeld, 1850; Child's History
of England, 1852; Bleak House, 1853;
Hard Times, 1854; Little Dorrit, 1857;
Our Mutual Friend, 1854
"a Tale of Two Cities" "The Uncom-
mercial Traveller" and "Great Expecta-
tions" appeared in AU tie Year Round,
weekly miscellany which Mr.. Dickens
conducted from 1850 to 1859. Indeed,
nearly or quite every work from his pen
has first appeared in one journal or other,
in serial form. Besides the periodicals
mentioned, Mr.. Dickens edited, for a
while, the Daily Nesos, Liberal paper,
which was established with him as editor
in-chief. In fact, he has always fratern-
lied cordially with newspaper folk, and
was, in style, instincts, and atflnities, very
much journalist.
Mr.. Dickens made, in the course of his
life, two voyages to America-the first in
1912, from which resulted the American
Notes" and the American pictures and
sketches in Martin Chuzzlewit," which
have excited so much unpleasant feeling
in certain classes of minds in this country;
but which are now generally admitted TO
be "palpable hits" and by no means as
severe in the way of satire as some pic.
lures which Mr.. Dickens has drawn of his
own countrymen. The second visit, in
1868, will be well remembered by every
reader of this notice 1t met the most
flattering demonstration which this cOun-
try has ever made to any foreign person
age since Lafayette.
Charles Dickens was married, and has
son of his own name, already of age,
and possessed of considerable dramatic
talent, it is said. Owing to uncongeniali-
ty of temperament, Mr.. Dickens separated
from his wife some ten years ago, after
living with her twenty years. The terms
of the separation were satisfactory TO both
parties, and the cause implies no impr0P
er conduct on the part of either. The de-
ceased author had amassed considerable
wealth by the success of his writings and
readings, and lived in elegance on Gad's
Hill, near London (the same made histori-
cal by Shakspeare's play of "Henry IV."),
in the very same house, of which, when
passing it as q boy, he had said, 81 will
have that house when l am rich. The
cause of his death was paralysis Chicago
Post.
AcCUMULATING large fortune by his
| literary labor, Mr.. Dickens was ever ready
to contribute literally to those benevolent
enterprises designed for the benefit of the
literary and journalistic profession. Kind
ly in his feelings, manly in his instincts,
unostentatious in his charities, and never
forgetting the friends and associations of
his early days, Mr.. Dickens has left be-
hind him an unblemished reputation, and
name of which his countrymen may
well be proud.
! But as we stand by this open grave, and
hear in imagination, the clods falling upon
the coffin lid which hides from our view
forever the form of Charles Dickens, it is
not so much the man we think of as the
author. We did not know him face TO
face, our hands had never clasped his, and
so far as ply ysical personality goes, he was
and is to us myth. Yet in that touch
| of nature which makes the whole world
kim" he was and is our dear and familiar
friend, into whose heart we have looked,
whose hopes and fears we have shared,
whose tears and laughter have been given
to us, whose priceless heritage we, and
those who come after us, may enjoy
always. What immortality is there, or can
there be, like this9 Victoria might die to.
morrow her son would reign in her stead,
and we should remember her only as a
good woman who had worn crown. Ma
poleon, Alexander, Frederick William and
Francis Joseph might be swept from the
earth by the same thunderbolt, and saving
panic in the stock market, and revolu
ton or two, their decease would have nc
particular effect, nor should we waste q
sigh over the royal victims. But here il
plain, untitled English citizen, with nc
illustrious ancestry, no drop OF princely
blood in his veins, no political power tC
make him famous, nothing, in fact, of thai
pomp and circumstance which usually &C
companies successful ambition and yet
wherever the electric messenger hal
flashed the tidings of his death, the sou
of Humanity throbs with pang of sorrow
In the heart of the Australian herdsman
in the shanty of the emigrant on the slop'
of the Rocky Mountains; among the jun
giles of India and upon the islands of mic
ocean from the China sea to the Pacific
from the Cape of Good Hope TO the Arctic
circle, on every spot of ground where tn,
English language has penetrated, ther,
will be mourneTs, honest, unselhsl
mourners, for the dead. Yet how
little, how very little, of the grea
novelist has really died The myste
rious brain out of which sprung so many
phsntoms of light and loVeliness, tn
heart which breathed into them tn
breath of life, the busy fingers whicl
gave them local habitation and q name
these indeed are still and pulseless, locket
in the cold obstruction of death but wha
are they compared with the throng of hi
deathless childrenP The father, beinl
, mortal, has only paid the debt whicl
mortality owes to nature; his offspring
being immortal, can never perish Will
the solid globe stands, never fade Will
stars shine. He is but piece OF senseles
clay now, ready to crumble back to kin
dred dust they are as fresh, as tragran
, and as young as the flowers OF spring, an
no summers sun or winters frost ca
touch them with decay. "Little Nell,
"Paul Dombey," "Agnes" and "Steel
forth, u" Micawber" and "Dick Swivel
ler," and the host of bright creature
whom we know and love so well: thes
live on until the end of time, and Will
they live the better part of Charles Dich
ems can never die.-ASSs0uTi Republican
IT is related that as some friends
Campbell, the author of Hohenlindel
! were leaving his room after late suppe
one of the number had the misfortune
, fall down a long flight of stairs. IN
. poet, alarmed by the noise, opened u
door and inquired, whats thatf" "'T
i, sir, rolling rapidly" was the immediat
response.
TIE moneyed value of the coal raise
T in England is twenty one million pounC