New-York tribune. [volume], February 20, 1910, Page 7, Image 21

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CHJKLBS DICKBXS.
v from His Character, Hi* Career
ami 11 h Friends.
„, ~ niCKKN-S AND ins rr.Ti:Ni>p By
-J. fe one of those agreeable and often the
,1 f not very important books winch the
•lioiou* rompner finds mud. amusement and
: . .. ■ *a«e l^o-:
»* rf volumes of biography, of reminiscence
Tor correspondent* results in the collection
;T a ra « of anecdote and of personal deserip
£ and" characterization: and these things.
*Sn C on a thread of gvnial comment, provide
SS«*ook which is not at all bad in its way.
vr Shore makes his reader more or less tati
teK acquainted with Dickons and the writers
a 7 artists who surrounded him. All are gone
5w and for most of us their work is dead. too.
The novelist himself remains gloriously alive
. Hp books, of which edition after edition con-
t T CTf >« to roll off the press, although various
Nacres admonish us that these stories are
Ijopplessly old-fashioned. No doubt they are,
v°l while men have hearts and a sense of
i^nor'they wIU read and enjoy the novels of
Charles Dickens. The favorite charge against
fxa is that of exaggeration. To this Mr. Ches
■
Jertoa made, the other day. as good an answer
■
,„,. -jf one once gets fairly to human
* S-S -lSt-"l St -" he said, "with those classes thai form
rC'vast mass "f mankind, one finds one's self
fcadea page of Dickens." •:•■, novelist often
't,.;,'- J from sentiment into sentimentality, as
vr Shore admits— but how often, too, he has
stirred the secret places of wholesome . motion
~nd made life easier for the sorrowful and the
o pressed! It may be that in a materialistic
when bouquets are sent to murderers and
heroes are manufactured out of sordid advent
urers, mankind need not greatly worry over
T^ sentimentality of Dickens. The fact re
mains that he touched to sympathy a genera
tion that had been indifferent to the exploita
tion of the joor and the helpless, and that he
brought alniut changes a feeling and in meth
ods for which Englishmen may still be grateful.
When Mary Cowden Clarke read the an
aonaewnent of his death, "the sun." she said,
-srem^i suddenly blotted out." An incarnation
of sunshine he often scorned to his friends, his
high s: irits. his contagious comicality, so sel
dom fa-.!-.:. He was a handsome fellow in his
yoath. as Mr<. Clarke in her old age remem
bered. "What eyes his were!" she said. "Large,
dark blue, exquisitely shaped, fringed wit!; mag
nificently long and thick lashes— they now swam
in liquid, limpid suffusion, when tears started
... from :t sense or humor or a sense of
jathos. and now darted quick flash's of fire
when some generous indignation .it injustice or
pome high wrought feeling of admiration of
magnanimity or ?ome sudden emotion of in
terest iind excitement touched him." He] red
to taik. to laugh, to tell stories, but be was as
gtx«3 a listener as talker. Impulsive and im
jftuous as }'.<■ was. he was a miracle of indus
try and— as his daughter Mary wrote of him —
-there ::• v- : • xi--t-d. I thi::k. in all the world a
mor* thoroughly tidy or methodical creature.
He was tidy in every way— in his mind,
in fcis handsome and graceful • -::. in his
work, in keeping his writing table drawers, in
bis larg< : : .-; • :iJtti< •-. in fact, in his whole
life." He drew on his stores of energy without
mercy— Mr. ?hor<? notes that his way of rest
ing a tired brain was to indulge in violent bod
ily exercise — but he drew upon them by rule.
He had certain hours for working, and noth
ing was allow* d to break into them But when
be playd he played with a will, nd everybody
aear him exi<anded .... sunshine. Those who
ire amused in these days at descriptions of the
novelist's gorgeous clothes and many rings and
lockets f'-rg-t that when the ><>uth burst into
jTusperity and popularity ..... wore such
things ar.d were admired. Perhaps Dickens pre
served his f.orid taste rather later in life than
did his early companions — he need not be
pnidged that amiable weakness. Those who
loved him joked about it affectionately. We.
:ir* told that when the gift of a gorgeous piece
«f stuff wa.< made t" a well known artist of the
i«-iod he wondered what he could do with it.
"Oh, send it to Dickens," said his friend, YVilkie
Collins: "he'll make a waistcoat of it.''
"With children Dickens was his most delight
ful and lovable self. There is a charming pict
ure of his evening performances with his own
Vra\- ones, when lie would ... comic sons;
zfier another to them, "the which be would
Lhssell enjoy and laugh at as much as any
vf his sn;a!l audience." At these before, bed
time entertainments "encores were allowed es-
Jfd&lly of one ditty of an old rheumatic man.
-ho had caught colu in an omnibus, which was
sung with a piping voice, broken with coughing
and sneezing." Never was there a father who
'■■-- a.or<- dearly th»- friend of his youngsters.
"iif understood their •-■••- says Mr.
•-"h"r~, "the cause of su«h horrible agony — no
■a«iker w ( .:d could be strong enough— to so
rsaay small ones. He entered heart and soul
i-to all their amui-ements, their keeping of pet
ani;na!.s— did he not himself keep pet ravens?—
:-ad their games." Wt have a glimpse of him
*ith John Iv -e< h learning to dance the polka
Slider th< solemn instruction of little Mar;.
-•id Kat<-. his daughters; and other glimpses of
hiai as head and front of all the fun on birth
t^ys aiid Christmas times. There was an ever-
NEW-YORK DAILY TRIBUNE. SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2fl( j<)io.
welllng tenderness for childhood in his heart.
As for his record as a husband, that is a sub
ject which Mr. Shore leaves as enigmatic as
a- found it why Dickens should, in middle
aim, have found the mother of his ten chil
dren so disagreeable that he could no longer
endure her presence— why she calmly aoqai
eaoed m the separation— these are mysteries
with which the world had and has no need bo
inquisitively concern itself. Dickens was an
irritable man of genius, his Catherine was a
perfectly commonplace person, apparently a
rather Stupid one— and there were, a* it may
not be unreasonable to surmise, too many quar
rels for household ease. She kept silent to the
end: he talked about in matched temperaments
and incompatibility. The truth was, we imag
ine, that Dickens married when he was too
young and impulsive to consider the necessary
question of compatibility.
He was an incomparable friend, loyal, affec
tionate, careful of the little kindnesses which
nourish friendship. He had a generous sym-
P^. Ny and admiration for the work of <M.her
men. In polities be was a radical so far as
radicalism meant the redress of abuses and
the lightening of tin burdens of humanity. He
was in the very fibre of him a religious man,
but not a sectarian. They say that Byron's
daughter asked him on her death bed. "Do you
ever prayT" and he answered, "Every morning
and evening." When his youngest son sailed
for Australia in IS(JS the father wrote to him.
"You will remember that you have never at
home I .. n wearied about religious observances
<.r mere formalities. I have always been anx
ious not to weary my children with such things
ore they art- old enough to form opinions re
specting them. You will therefore understand
th.- : ■■• that I now must solemnly impress
poo you the truth and beauty of the Christian
religion, as it came from Christ Himself, and
the Impossibility of your going far wrong if
you humbly but heartily respect it." No creed
could be simpler, none more powerful if men
did but follow it. Perhaps what is, on the
whole, the truest estimate of Charles Dickens
was set down after his death by one who rarely
had an entirely ungrudging word for anybody
—Thomas Carlyle. "It is almost thirty years
since my acquaintance with him began/ wrote
the Scotchman, "and on my side 1 may say
every new meeting ripened it into more and
more dear discernment of his rare and great
worth as a brother man; a most cordial, sin
cere clear-sighted, quietly decisive, just and
loving man: till at length he had grown to
such a recognition with me as I have rarely
had for any man of my time."
-Privilege and Democracy in America- is the
title of a new book by Air. Frederic C. Howe.
• book which th- Scribners will publish next
"month It deals, as this title indicates, with
subjects much talked of just now.
FRENCH LIFE.
A Popular Feminine Writer's View
of It.
ON THE BRANCH. Prom the French of Piem
<!*• Coulevnin. by Allys HalUrd. \-nu< . pp.
•i' I '"' 1-- I 1I 1 1 Mittim <V- Co
Tin cr.-at novelists appear only at interval
one thinks of the brilliant international constel
lation of the last half of the nineteenth century
— Itut no country is ever without Its popular
writers, who may frankly be mere purveyors of
entertainment, or. taking their work seriously.
translate Into simple terms for the multitude the
meanings of current thought, movements and
tendencies. No mean talent Is required for this
humbler service, even though it must i>« one <>f
a minor kind; he who. not having it, believes
that he can "write down" to the level of this
enormous audience will soon discover his mis
take. The lady who insists, in a letter to her
Ca IARLES DIOKEXS.
(Prom the portrait by Maclise.)
publishers, that her pseudonyme of "Pierre de
Coulevain" must be respected possesses this
talt-nt.
Readable "On the Branch" Is, for Anglo-
Saxon as well as for French readers, notwith
standing its Gallic plot which, being laid in the
narrator's past (the story is told in the first per
son), is perhaps better described as its point of
departure. It reminds one of the "Lettres de
iYmrnes," with its wife deceived by her husband
and her best friend, and the \\h-> should be
hers, but is the mistress's. The narrative itself
does not begin until many yens later, when tin
tragedy of discovery 1 on the day of the husband's
!eath has receded into the past, and the victim,
.it fifty, can look back to gauge the influence it
has liad in the shaping of h. r later existence
and development oiu- of life's little ironies
brings together again the two women, so
changed by the passing years, ar. 1 the son. The
bo..k is readable becau» its philosophy o! life
is emotional rather than rational— intensely fem
inine. And the majority of novel readers arc
said to be women.
The echoes of many current reactions from
the materialism of the last fifty years are (if
a mixed metaphor be permissible) turned in
this story into small change for popular circu
lation, with the purpose of leading back to re
ligion—to Roman Catholicism, in the case if
France, but to a Roman Catholicism that will
be in perfect sympathy with the untram
melled progress of science, which, the author
holds, will in its turn ultimately prove to be
religion's apologist: "It will teach us how one
'walks on the water.'" Tills is typical of
Pierre de Coulevain's thought. She passes in
review the aristocrat . the bourgecisi< and the
peasantry of France, whose present condition
fills her with despondency: "France has be-
me a kind of safe from which each pcrsoa
lay take, ]. v which no one thinks of filling up
again. And it is not for Prance that people
are working, but either for the republlic, the
monarchy or the empire. Under the Influence
of these petty ambitions France can love only
that was imposing about it."' The picture
of life in the book, it will be seen from this,
is objective as well as subjective — psychologi
cal. The author is a strong Anglophile, and.
of course, she who wrote "American Nobility"
and "Eve Triumphant" cannot fail to turn In
attention anew to the American woman:
"I have no prejudice against them, believe me."
aid Sir William 'Their faults shock me, and
my education prevents me from appreciating their
extremely modern qualities Judge for yourself.
They are the only women in the world who will
ingly leave their husband and children enjoy
themselves and ;rre quite happy away from them."
"That is true, but have you ever thought that,
if the conjugal bond were a* close in their coun
try as in ours, it would interfere with the action
of the men and hinder their work? Do you not
think that these women are the necessary agents
of exchange between the New and the Old World,
the unconscious vehicles of ideas and of im
pressionsT 1
"No; l have not the novelist's imagination.
"There is no imagination in that; it is scientifi
cally true. The invisible cargo of an Atlantic liner
is considerably more Important than that whictl
pays duty, but in quite another way."
LITERARY NOTES.
There is to be a new biography of Dean Pwift.
this time written by a woman. This daring
person wears the name (if Sophie Smith.
Twc voium< s of reminiscences are on the
way — one by a novelist and one by an artist.
Mr Joseph Conrad is th'- novelist and Sir Hu
bert yon Herkomer. the artist.
The last survivor of the individual characters
of "Tom Brown's School Days'" died a few weeks
ago. at the agre oi ninety-one. This was Sir
Charles Strickland, who appeared in the pages
of Thomas Huph<-s"s famous boob as "Martin
the Madman."' the young naturalist and Tom's
second in the lively encounter with **Slogger
Williams." Sir Charles, it is said, never had
a serious illness in his life, and he celebrate 1
his ninetieth birthday at a meet of bounds.
Professor C. W. Wallace's discovery of the
record of a lawsuit in which Shakespeare was a
witness is to be set forth in the forthcoming
number of "Harper's Magazine," with photo
graphic reproductions of the time-worn parch
ments and of the dramatist's signature.
The house at Skien. in Norway, in which Ibsen
was born has been destroyed, but the melan
choly abode at Grimstadt in which he sold
pills and plasters and tooth brushes, and in
which he wrote his first play, still survives, and
there is a movement in his native land t<- pur
chase and make an Ibsen museum out Of it
Enthusiasts who think that Ibsen was a person
of dazzlinp genius are called upon to contribute.
Many people assert — Ibsen is said to have as
serted it himself— that there was not a drop <>r"
Norwegian blood in the playwright's veins; that
he had Danish, German, Scotch ancestors. Dr.
Halvdan Koht points out in -'The Nineteenth
Century" that, on the contrary. Ibsen's ances
tors had lived in Norway for generations, and
that among his immediate ancestors there were
some of pure Norwegian descent.
His mother's mother was Hedevig Paus. and.
because her name sounds German, people have
been led to suppose that she belonged to a Ger
man family. But closer investigation has shown
that the Paus family was pure Norwegian, origi
nating with a Norwegian clergyman who. at the
beginning of the seventeenth century, adopted this
surname as being more refined t! ;;n Paulson. H:-=
descendants lived as government officials, mer
chants and farmers in the district round Skien.
and there were in the family several talented
members among whom were some poets who
wrote in the dialect of that part of the country.
It -=.i happens that Ibsen's tirst biographer, Ile:ii-.,v
j-»e"-i r (ts^s> traces one of the principal features
of his character back to Hedevig Paus. and in ac
cepting that we shall have to admit that Ibsen
was not only born in Norway, but truly was vc
Norwegian.
■John Lothrop Motley and His Family" is
the title of the collection of Motley- letters
which Mr. John I>ane is preparing to publish.
These ej.istl; s. which are of a personal and an
intimate character, were not included in the
volumes of the historians correspondence pub
lished some -.ears ago, because they contained
:; any references to people then living and t.»
events then current. The book promise, to br
one of the most interesting and valuable ■ -
the coming season.
Another forthcoming collection is to bear the
title of "Intimate Society Letters of the Eigh
teenth Century." It has betn edited by the
Duke «>i Argyll, the material having been
drawn from the family archives at [nveraraj
Castle Much <>f it l;-> : to do with the reign of
Queen Anne, and much concerns tin Jacobite
movement. Some hith< rto unpublished letters
from the pen of lime, de Siael are to be in
cluded
The doctrine of Scripture held by early Vic
torian orthodoxy is somewliat tardily .is-.:;! 1
and br< ught to confusion by Mr. J Allanson
Picton it: "Man and the Bible" tHenry Holt &
Co.). Fetishistic awe of the Bible has often
been accompanied by stern moral fervor; but,
unfortunately, says .Mr. Picton, the apotheosis of
the book has given authority to its worst parts
as well as to its best. When superstition and
fantastic theologies h;iv done their utmost, tho
Bible will vindicate mon and more its claim to
be a stilt living record of the struggle of man
toward purity. freedom :-.nd light I>r Rein
hold Seeberg's "Revelation and Inspiration
(Harper & Bros.) is ar. effective putting forth
of what modern orthodoxy believes about Holy
Scripture. The notion of a verbal inspiration
of the Bible hn~ disappeared as if in a night,
says th< !:• rlin professor, and no theologian of
any repute now upholds it. Sinc< it never pre
vailed throughout the Church, the theory can
be surrendered without affecting the vital re
ality, that revelation of God through which He
hecoznes operative in mankind, a revelation of
which the Bible is the monument.
"Kings in Exile" is not a new title, but Mr.
Charles G. D. Roberts evidently could not re
sist the conviction that it exactly tits the con
tents or his new book. The discrowned sov
ereigns to be met there are not men and women
such a? play their brief parts in Daudet's novel;
they are the splendid ,«rr*:it beasts who have
beer, torn from their jungle homes to live among
curious humans. The author does not make his
animals talk, bat he makes them reveal indi
vidual character, all the same.
1