Year: 1872




His Unfortunate Boyhood Finally


Revealed.


Charles Dickens, years ago, left
to his beloved and intimate friend,
Mr.. John Forster, the sad but deep
ly interesting task of giving to the
world the true story ofhI life. Mr..
Forster was on the most intimate
terms with the great novelist, from
the spring of 1888 to the day of
Dickens death in June, 1870. They
were men of about tue same age,
and to no one, probably, did Dick
EMS confide so much of his inmost
nature as to the literary companion
who now gives us this record of his
career.


The story of that career is one of
the deepest interest. To the outer
world, Dickens is seen only in the
light of an unparalleled success; but
those who knew him better than the
world could know were not ignorant
that all that sunshine was checkered
by many and deep shadows. Dick
ems suffered more than ordinary men,
and the pathetic part of his writings
was the richer for the knowledge
thus acquired. Doubtless, too, his
enjoyment was Intense; yet, on look
ing back over his whole life, tits diff
ficult to resist the thought that it
was rather a sad than a happy one.
There was a middle period in Dick
ems career when he certainly appears
to have enjoyed life to the finger
tips, with vivid and tinging sense
of pleasure, very delightful to recall.
But his childhood was painful, and
his waning years we're overshad-
owed.


THE CLOUD.


"He was a very little and very
sickly boy" says Mr.. Forster. "He
was subject to attacks of violent
spasm, which disabled him for any
active exertion. He was never q
good little cricket player. He was
never a first rate hand at marbles. or
peg top, or prisoners base" This
was at Chatham. Afterward, when
the elder Mr.. Dickens removed to
London, this small, sickly child
then about ten years old-had a SER
les of experiences very unusual with
children of middle class parents, but
which, while they gave him the
most exquisite pain at the time, and
to a great extent threw a cloud over
the whole of his subsequent exist
ence, were undoubtedly the source
of his marvellous knowledge of hu-
man nature, and his familiarity with
scenes Of want and wretchedness.
1t need be so secret now for the fact
will do his memory no disservice,
that the childhood of Charles Dick
ems was passed in almost abject pow
erty.


His father, Mr.. John Dickens, fell
into money difficulties, and was con-
fined in the Marshalsea prison, after
ward so vividly described in Little
Dorrit." Every small sum of money
that could be earned by any mem
Der of the family became of vital i'm
portance; so the boy Charles, about
ten years of age-that is to say,
some time in the year 1822-was
placed in a backing warehouse, be-
longing to a distant connection of
the family, named Lamert, which es
tabHshment was opened as a rival to
the famous backing shop cf Warren,
in the Strand.


SINKING IN THE DREGs.


Lamert's house was at old Hung
erford-stairs and it is to be found
exactly described in "David Copper
field" What many suspected be-
fore is now specifically revealed.
The life of the boy David Copper
field is the life of the boy Charles
Dickens. The future novelist en-
tered the warehouse of James Lam
ert in the most menial capacity, at a
salary of six or seven shillings a
week. His work was to cover the
pots of paste blacking, first with oil
paper and then with blue paper, to
tie them round with string, to clip
the paper close and neat, and tC
paste on a printed label. In the dis
charge of these duties his compan
ions were boys of humble birth and
uncultured manners, and young
Dickens, remembering his happier
childhood at Chatham, longing fol
education and a start in life, and fear.
ling that, if his present employment
continued, he would sink into the
mere dregs of society, suffered de,
gree of anguish, the memory O
which he could never shake off a
the very height Of his prosperity.


STRUCK DUMB WITH HORROR.


In a fragment of autobiography
which Dickens wrote in 1S47, h'
said:


From that hour until this o
which I write, no word of that par
of my childhood which l have
now gladly brought to close, ha:
passed my lips to any human being
1 have no idea how long it lasted
whether for a year, or much more
or less. From that hour until this
my father and my mother have been
stricken dumb upon it. 1 had never
heard the least allusion to it, howev-
er far off and remote, from either o
them. 1 have never until 1 impart i
now to this paper, in any burst o
confidence with any one, my oEr
wife not excepted, raised the curtain
1 then dropped, thank God!


Many portions of this unfinished
autobiography were introduced, al
most word for word, two years later
into "David Copperfeld," and the
manuscript has now been largely
drawn upon by Mr.. Forster.


HOW THE SECRET WAS BROUGHT II


LIGHT.