The Arkansaw traveler., 1884-03-08
DICKENS. THE TEACHER
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 All grimy old London town v,s frightened, softened, yet mellowed anI made altogether lovely, by the humidlv golden atmosphere which Turner paiD.e3 so well, and reveled in so madly. Tb;s atmosphere. Tn its tangible presence ,s London one beautiful garment .r5 when It IS folded about her, she is tra,s. formed from a gigantic, hard-handed money-changing wench to a queen.
 Our American custom of Sunday r,or,. ing late rising, lettering, and or =, o clock service, brought me 10 the ma, entrance of Westminster Abbey a.,er every situng in that part of the struct,Te was occupied. was directed to . noe. corner. where temporary benches had been placed tor the accommodation o, me unusual number of worshipers. The toned light, the exquisite music wbirh hooded and echoed and lovingly linseres among the lofty arches. the dicni6e3 impressive church of England service Canon farrar's perfectly chosen. elc5t,er. words all so conspired to en,hrall me :. this, my first church service in FnelarS that the last Amen" had echoed 9r,4 echoed agaln and died away before leai,zeo shas l was surrounded by lie tomos of men who shall never cease ,o i've Bending to replace a paper un,ee had iaiien from my prayer book. I saw underneath my feet plain. dark gray slao, upon which was inscribed in stn1nle gilt letters
 CHARLES DICKENS.
 btSN InKtASY THE sEEENrh,
 DIED lNE HE NlNTH. Is-a.
 lust a horizontal slab That Is al But of all the mighty dead resting ir that proud old abbey, none other co,ld so well dispense with lofty stone ant clever sculptor.
 Charles Dickens will live in the hear, of peasant and king alike. ,hroughou. the circling zones of our earth. so Ion, as those erystalizations of truth and love once preached upon a mount. which He mas made vltaiiy human and suited ,a eaen aay common living, are read anu received.
 Blessed are the poor in spirit
 An. pathetic Tom. Pinch. 1 see Yen poor indeed in spirit. bu, rich in all .ba. likens life 10 the divine Who would no. be like you.
 Blessed are they that mourn
 Sweet, true, Florence 1ombey sud loyal Little Doriu. We see why yo. were comtored
 :. Blessed are the meek,
 1entle Esther Summerson. mindtu ot all but yourself; how blessed this et..h when such as you inherit Il,
 Blessed are the nerclful" /"
 Nough Joe e,argefy. counting as nosi. ng your own inconvenience" nsw mesciful you were. Surely s4rh IS you can claim the promised merey
 Blessed are the pure in heart
 Little Nell 10 see God reserved tor such as are like you
 Blessed are the pcacemakers.'
 True. loving, simple Mr. Dick, You made peace between two divided hearts. when those of stronger heads were power ess. Truly. the most helpless amonss, IS may be called the Children of Iod.''
 Blessed are the-''
 ilease, leave the Abbey" said the majestic old warden. in a sonorous yo,ce lul,e in NIT. Whopsel's style, and wen, 'ut into the shadowy sunshine of .i.a. london summer day, for the first time of what Charles Dickens had 'een to my childhood, youth and maturity, and 10 the childhood. yoa,h nd maturity of millions of men and wo- nen. Then il was tha, knew wh An American meant when he said: "Char.es )ickens IS the Apostle raul of ;he nineteenth century"