, 1874-03-15
LITERATURE


| D1ERen3A
| THE LIFE or CHARLEs DICKENS, By 1oHs
| FonsTER- Vol. III. Il NO., COO pp- PhtlAdalpita
] J. B. Lippincott h Co.
This closing volume Of tho biography Of Dick
ems includes history Of the eighteen years be-
tween 1851 and 1870, the date Of the great
| novelist's death. These woTo among the
most active, fertile, and conspicuous years. OF
Dickens life, Dnripg their passage he produced
the novels, "Bleak House," Little Dorrlt, :"
"Tale Of Two Cities,'' e Great Expectations" +"
Il Our Mutaal Friend" and the unfinished story
OF IL Edwin Drood" besides the many brief
tales and letsched papers which he contributed
to Household Words and 4n the Year Round
In their course was embraced his career as q
public reader which extended over the twelve last
and most laborious OF his years. And, finally, in
their round Of stirring md Important events was
unfo1dcd tho separation from his wife, the
sorriest and most fateful Incident that trans
pired in all his long and ohockered history.
In the early part Of this period Dickens WAS
at the zenith Of his fame and genius, but there
after he slowly, steadily declined In physical
strength and mental power, until it became
painfuly apparent that the functions Of body
and mind had lost irrecoyerably thoir former
quick, sure, and exquisite p1ay. The first symp-
toms OF the restlessness, longing, aud d1scon-
tont that finally destroyed his happiness and
hastoncd his death, found distinct exprcs-
sion in tho story Of 81 David Oopperne1d,"
the work completed Immediately prior to the era
under notice. Into the biography OF Copper
Gold Dickens Ind poured much OF his own spirit,
nud feeling, and experience In the life OF that
hero he had given q transcript Of his own,-uot
literal, to be sure, but after the true artistic
method, with basis Of truth that by them who
know him, could clearly be discernod through
tho fiction that idealized and ombe1lished
it,, The unhappy loss or want OF something
that crer Bhadowed and oppressed Dayid'a
soul, WAS but = reflex OF tho craving void ia
Dickcus' heart; Of the torturing disquiet that Ea
suffered to increase with his days, to impcl him
to procedures which they who loved him dopre-
cated and doplored, and Which ut last became
a Nemesis that was avenged By the proma-
turn dissolution OF his 1ifo.
From Dickens himself we have 1t, that his own
father and mother sat for the portraits OF Mrs.
Nick1cby and 31lcawbcr. Allowing much for or
aggcration of carlcasure, the figures remain dis
torted BY prominent foibles and wcalsnesscs.
Tho child Of two such faulty individuals could
scarcely fail to develop an unbalanced character,
discordant Temperament. Defects Of disposi-
tion and Of intellect are the almost Inevitable in
heritance Of Imperfect .parentage. The doom Of
his unfortunate birth bore heavily on Dickens
ali his life. Struggle against it as he might, its
penalties and disabilities would make themselves
{elt in many . thwarted, If not misdirected. Gu
ergy and aspiration -.
The vanity Of the father, which WAS whim-
sical1y exhibited in sounding words and inflated
sentences the son betrayed in fondnoss for
lashy walstcoats, for the bravery OF tangled
loops OF glistening chains, for pins and rings.
and Whatever OF color and CLINT the masculine
dress will permit. The failing was harmless in
either case, but it was indicative of coaree
which brusqucly displayed itself to Washington
irving in Dickens 1ovial santation on their first
ueotlng. t;Whatll you drink. Irving 4 brandy
smash or gin-cocktail ?" and which 80 shocked
the refined Eensitiyencss Of Irving that he never
could forgive it. That sa1ne coarse grim which
led Dickens to violate the sacred lawn Of hos
pitalty. and grossly satrlze in one Of his novels
= nation that had generously welcomed, honorcd,
and cherished him.
From Dickens mother must have come his
lack Of moral strength to restrain nightv aud ir
regular inclnations, to subdue self-will, and to
endure with courage and patience tho daily
CROSSES and sacrifices that are the painful, yet
precious, discipline Of life. That lack OF dopth
and serenity Of nature which became more md
more evident in the closing years Of his life;
that th1cw him upon thtscxtorior and the arti-
fic1al, for distraction, whia5rould not be happi-
ness, for forgetfulncss, which could not be
peace that identified his experience With fs tho
80 happy, and yet 80 unhappy, existence which
socks its realities in unrealities, and finds its
dangerous comfort in q perpetual escape from
the disappointment Of heart round it."
While Dickens children were young, and his
genius was vigorous aud fortile the needs of
his being wcrc soiacel and satisfied. He found
full compensations and enioymentB in the So
ciety Of the little gathered about LIS HEARTH
whom he pasaionatoly loved, aud in the crea- |
tions Of his fancy, which were almost equally
dear and engaging But, about tn, time "Day1d
wore advancing in youth, and ono by one desert |
ing the home-nes:, leaving it and his heart
empty. Just then, too, his fancy became way
ward and uncomfortable. It was no longer to |
be trusted. It required careful wooing and por- |
suasion, aud in some respects altogether oyaded |
him. 1t was grleyous trial, for on this divine |
faculty he had hitherto relied for the relief Of
oblivion from every sorrow. These we're un- t
happy chnuges, and they had On adverse in1u- |
ence on his remaining career.
The iocompatibility between Dickens and his |
wife, which undoubtedly had Jared upon him
from the beginning, but could not spoil the mel
ody OF lis lifo While other circumstances were
fruitful Of hope and happiness, now grew con-
Einually mole irritating. Inseead Of manful]y
facing tho trouble, and 80 conquering 1t, or re-
1ucinG it to its smallest dimensions, be weakly ]
yielded to the dictates of self1shness and finally
out away the woman who had been bis COM
,anion for upwards OF twenty years aud the
With regard to this action has been disclosed by |
,is biosFapher or by public rumor. Only they
who were intimate with Dickens self and all his
domestic experience bavo q right to judge how
ar LIE erred, ana now Illucn cGuduro Nc deserved. ]
Is for the rest OF us, it a meet that we use that
:barity toward him, when his faults arise for
Judgment, thnt We ench would ask of mankind
.heu it CONES our turn to be weighed IN tho
>aauce.
We may Justly feel that, had he borne his sor-
OF nobly to this end, we should have honored
lin with an unreserve that is now impossible. |
3ut Dickens has tuught us the verdict to
pplY to his own conduct In tho sublime
words he uttercdon the death Of lis1Ast surviving
,rolhor: Il was wasted life, but God forbid
hat one should DO hard upon it, OF upon any
hing in this world that is not deliberately and
oddly wrong" In view. OF the grent love and
humanity that filled Dickens soul, that permea-
ed all his w1itiugs, that Was cheer and
blessing to the world while he lived, and will
onttnno to be 80 as long as his books survive,
70 forgive the grave errors aud the lighter in
lr1nites that sometimes so strangely beliod his
principles and general practice.
Immediately before the great change in
)ickens' domestic hfTnirs. in tile spring Of 1868,
@ began a course Of paid readings, in defiance
o tho strenuous opposition Of his friends. He
rged tho pathetic excuse: II must do some
hing, or shall wear my heart away. I can SEQ
o better thing to do that is half 80 hopeful in
self, or half 80 we'll suited to my restless
tate" His marvellous faculty Of invention had
arta{lY deserted him. as We have before men-