Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1877-04-12
WHOLE NO. TYP.

of love, more immortal than the
fame of the one, than the sorrow OF
the other?
In the places which once knew
Charles Dickens he was ever present
to me, and yet | was conscious Of a
great change, and sadly felt that
those places knew him no more. !"
In nv first visit to England his name
was on ell lips; men lived sort of
supplementary life in BLEAK House"
and discussed the Tulkiughorn homi-
eide as to-day they discuss the Bravo
case. On this visit | seldom hoard
that name Of homely enohartment
or the quaint pesudonym stepped in
laughter and tears. They tioated
for while like spars on the great
surging sea of London society, VI ich
had closed over the rich galley of his
life, then seemed to drift away into
the past-the hungry, encroaching
ment, and | honor her for her brave
and magnanimous reticence. Let
me hope that no injudicious friend
may insist on doing for her that
which she declines doing for herself.
Her picture at her best was long ago
painted by the hand of master in
the character of Agnes Wickfield
that will stand. In this life to be
divided, in the grave to rest apart, is
not all. May not the new life of
those two take up the old young life
past, so much nearer the present
than in the old time it was. Even
in the neighborhood of Tavistock
House-he seems almost as much
forgotten as Richardson in Salisbury
square, or Fielding in Bow street.
Perhaps the only one Whereabouts
who remembers him wildly, or
misses him mournfully,is an old PEN
sioner of his, sweeper of the cross
ings, who In his youth may have
suggested the moving character of
Poor Joe. He has never been COM
PEELED to "moye on" though be is al.
ways on that square. Mr.. Dickens
gave him regular allowance, and
while he lived the unfortunate man,
cripple from his birth, neither
wanted for food or lodging. stop
ped one day and talked to him of
bis ''gfeat friend His cheerful face
clouded, yet glowed at once. Eyes,
Madame, | suppose he was great"
he said, "but | only know he was
good, and not at all proud, and it
was good deal for him to notice
one like me, when he had so many
things to do and so much to think
out. He was great loss to me, be
was! When | heard he was 10 be
buried il Westminster Abbey, |
walked all the way there, but they
wouldn't let mo in. | went another
time, though, and found his rave,a!l
by myself. He lies in grand place;
the country couldn't do more for a
prince" mo, my friend, for no
prince could do SO much for the
country" | doubt if many of his
English readers would 60 as far as
that. To most loyal Britons one
royal highness is of more value than
many Dickensos. No sooner was he
dead than the critics, both English
and American, began to question
whether he ought TO have lived so
considerable life in letters and the
heart of the w1rld Ito doubte wheth-
er his fame mad in il the clements of
a long vitality. Of old the great
dead were set at once among the
consultations, and worshipped more
than ever. Now we send them into
a murky, expiatory limbo, and make
haste TO recall our homage, to Olsen.
chant ourselves from the spell of a
weak enthusiasm. We forswear and
apostatize, and straightway set up
new gods.