The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1874-02-20
Charles Dtcken@His Position and
Examplo-The Lesson Of HIS Life.

literature of the world, not to speak of his
personal influence and character as a man,
are recalled by the publication of his life
The estimate in which Mr.. Forsters work will
be held may be inferred from the elaborate
criticism in the HERALD of yesterday. But
the book has value beyond that of a work OF
art. The author was the intimate personal
friend and associate of Dickens during the
greater part of his life. He himself Is a writer
and journalist of no Indifferent renown.
From "Pickwick" to edwin Brood there
was not book which he did not revise. He
was counsellor, critic, associate and friend
When the great writer passed away he was
eminently the person to write his life. AS our
critic observes, there is no literary event since
the publication of Moore's "Lite OF Byron OF
so much Importance
1t is almost too soon to give Dickens an
exact place in our literature. The men Of one
generation are rarely permitted to confer
Immortality upon any Of their number. how
ever successful or renowned. That decree time
alone can confer. Although we canonize our
immortals, and duly incense them from day to
views. One thing that is surely impossible is
that the next generation will read book of
ours, unless it pleases it. We cannot advertise
ourselves to posterity. Lander, in one of his
letters, speaks of his perusing critical review
of the last century, and discovering that
among the feeble writer's of that time, as seen
by contemporaries, were Fielding and Gold
smith and Gray! The famous men in the
eyes of these current critics had long since
been forgotten the despised had become
classical, our delight and glory, in liter
airy sense. No book was as famous in
its time as 'Clarissa Harlowe," not alone in
England, but in France. 1t is written that
famous Frenchwoman, who visited London
shortly after the death of the author Of this
book, asked to be shown his grave. She
knelt upon the tomb and wept bitterly. So
much had the man impressed her during his
life by his fiction that she could not resist
these tears Of gratitude on his tomb. And
yet who reads "Clarissa Harlowe'' now?
What publisher prints it? What literary
critic cares to own his knowledge Of the
work? How many of US would care to open
at random volume Of Richardson, and read
his pages aloud in the family circle2 Time
has revised the honors paid to Richardson,
and his fame has become mouldy and moss
covered. Even Westminster Abbey has its
forgotten dead. And as to Dickens, it seems
to be question as to the endurance Of his
fame. Even authors like him-Cervantes,
De Foe, Fielding, Goldsmith, who have won
the highest renown, are remembered for only
q small part of their labors. We know
Robinson Crusoe;" but what other work of
its author is familiar to us? ''Tom Jones" is
among the finest conceptions of our literature;
but who cares for any other of Flelding's con-
captions? The world has remembered 'Don
Quixote" to forget all about the additional
novels OF its author. Dickens, like his prede-
cessors, wrote some books that were good and
some that were bad. But what will our chill
dren regard as good or as bad? Will they
reserve "Pickwick" and ''Copperfeld," or
forget all and remember Dickens vaguely as a
man famous in bis time, but belonging to mis-
time alone?
Another question of society and morals in
regard to the life Of Dickens is now again
brought before US for judgment If there is
one thing which we should not trouble our
selves about it is the domestic concerns of our
neighbors. The world is generous in dealing
with the frailties of the men who serve their
country well 1t seems to be o penalty of
genius that the comfort and peace given to
so many that are humble shall be denied it
the comfort and peace Of home and
children, and cnaste, serene, domestic
life Nor is it well to look curiously into
the inner lives of those who delight and serve
mankind. 1t does not detract from
the fame Of Nelson that he Lived
life of open defiance of the
commandments of God. We cherish Shake
speare and Milton, and do not concern our
selves about the poor women who darkened
their lives, and who probably had their own
side of the story, if all the truth were known.
When famous woman of our own time in
sisted upon telling the world of the nasty
scandals attaching to the separation of Byron
from bis wife the world revolted. It was said,
and said truly:-We have Hamlet and
'sChilde Harold. and Paradise Lost" and
what does it matter about the rest2 Is it not
clay and dust the muddy vesture after all,
into which we cannot peer, because it rests
with God9 Ii we take these men, who come
to us with heavenly gifts, with endowments
from the gods, as it were, fitted to
nerve and inspire mankind, and make
their words gospels to the sons
of men; if we examine our Shakespeares and
Byrons before police magistrates, by common
law process, do we not seek out the earthly
and forget the spiritual? So we may say of
Dickens. His separation from his wife came