with the most delightful readiness that we would be amply sufficient “The evil that has been interposed between Mrs. Micawber and myself is now withdrawn,' said Mr. Micawber, and my children and the Author of their Being can now once more come in contact on equal terms.' His house was not far off: and as the street-door opened into the sitting-room, and he bolted in with a precipitation quite his own, we found ourselves at once in the bosom of his family. Mr. Micawber, exclaiming Emma, my life!' rushed into Mrs. Micawber's arms. Mrs. Micawber shrieked, and folded Mr. Micawber in her embrace. ... and find their own aunt, for a man who conducts himself well, No better opening anywhere,' said my and is industrious.’ "For a man who conducts himself well,' repeated Mrs. Micawber, with her clearest business manner, and is industrious. Precisely. It is evident to me that Australia is the legiti mate sphere of action for Mr. Micawber.' "I entertain the conviction, my dear madam,' said Mr. Micawber, that it is, under existing circumstances, the land, the only land, for myself and family, and that something of an extraordinary nature will turn up on that shore. It is no distance, comparatively speaking; and though consideration is due to the kindness of your proposal, I assure you that it is a mere matter of form.' Emma,' said Mr. Micawber, the cloud is past from my mind. Mutual confidence, so long promised between us once, is indeed to know no further interruption. Now, welcome poverty,' said Mr. Micawber, shedding tears, welcome "Shall I ever forget how, in a moment, he misery, welcome houselessness, welcome hunger, was the most sanguine of men, looking on to rags, tempest, and beggary. Mutual confidence fortune; or how Mrs. Micawber presently diswill sustain us to the end!' With these ex-coursed about the habits of the kangaroos? pressions, Mr. Micawber placed Mrs. Micawber Shall I ever recall that street of Canterbury on in a chair, and embraced the family all round: welcoming a variety of bleak prospects which appeared to my judgment to be anything but welcome to them: and calling upon them to come out into Canterbury and sing a chorus, as nothing else was left for their support." Still grander and more imposing is the last appearance of the Micawbers upon the stage. We pause, however, to say that we are morally certain Mr. Micawber, left to himself, would never have emigrated; and that only the delicious temptation of the novelty, and the sense of an opportunity for distinguishing himself as the typical emigrant, could have moved him to such a step. The tears with which he has been welcoming ruin are scarcely dry, and Mrs. Micawber has but newly recovered from the faint produced by the reconcilia tion. said: My aunt mused a little while, and then "Mr. Micawber, I wonder you have never turned your thoughts to emigration.' "Madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, it was the dream of my youth, and the fallacious aspiration of my riper years.' I am thoroughly persuaded, by the by, that he never thought of it in his life. "There is but one question, my dear ma'am, I would wish to ask,' said Mrs. Micawber. The climate, I believe, is healthy?' "Finest in the world,' said my aunt. "Just so,' returned Mrs. Micawber. Then my question arises. Now, are the circumstances of the country such that a man of Mr. Micawber's abilities would have a fair chance of rising in the social scale? I will not say at present might he aspire to be governor, or anything of that sort; but would there be a reasonable opening for his talents to develop themselves-that a market-day as he walked back with us, expressing, in the hardy roving manner he assumed, the unsettled habits of a temporary sojourner in the land, and looking at the bullocks as they came by with the eye of an Australian farmer? When he is found later, "with a bold, buccaneering air, not absolutely lawless, but defensive and prompt," we feel that it requires all the comfort we can derive from the spectacle of his preparation for every emergency, and all our sense of the infinite satisfaction it gives him, to console us for the parting with our friend and his family. "He had provided himself, among other things, with a complete suit of oilskin, and a straw-hat with a very low crown, pitched or caulked on the outside. In this rough clothing, with a mariner's telescope under his arm, and a shrewd trick of casting up his eye at the sky as looking out for dirty weather, he was far more nautical after his manner than Mr. Peggotty. His whole family, if I may so express it, were cleared for action. I found Mrs. Micawber in the closest and most uncompromising of bonnets, made fast under the chin, and in a shawl which tied her up (as I had been tied up when my aunt first received me) like a bundle, and was secured behind at the waist in a strong knot. Miss Micawber I found made snug for stormy weather in the same way, with nothing superfluous about her. Master Micawber was hardly visible in a Guernsey shirt and the shaggiest suit of slops I ever saw; and the children were done up like preserved meats in impervious cases. Both Mr. Micawber and his eldest son wore their sleeves loosely turned back at their wrists, as being ready to lend a hand in any direction, and to tumble up, or sing out, Yeo - heave-yeo!' on the shortest notice." Thus our friends disappear from the ring this touch of tediousness, there is scene, and we sympathize with the author truth enough in the picture to make it in making them prosperous and magnifi- very amusing; and there is an amount of cent in that future which they were always natural pathos involved in the very idea so comfortable about. We do not much of the fading and death of the young believe in it, but still he is only yielding which Dickens has taken much advantage to a natural impulse, and commands our of on other occasions, with a tendency to sympathy, if not the concurrence of our false sentiment, and the easy effects of judgment. In all his works there is noth-conventional melancholy. Dora, however, ing better, and not much that is half so is better than little Nell and Paul Domgood. From beginning to end he never bey, both highly artificial pictures, relying flags in carrying out his conception the for their effect upon the far deeper and Micawbers are as good the first day as the more real picture which most people carry last, and the last as the first; they are in their hearts of something sufficiently always themselves, ready for any emer- like to blind the reader's eyes with tears, gency, and acting nobly up to it. We and overpower his judgment. Before will not say that the humour is as high their marriage, David and his lovemaking and fine as that which produced Dick Swiv- are charming; and all through, the puzeller, but it closely approaches the pro- zled, troubled, saddened, but always loyal portion of that inimitable sketch; and as young husband retains our sympathytime goes on, and all that is to die of Dick- as he does, indeed, on most occasions when ens dies as it must- a process which he is personally prominent. Perhaps, seems to us to be progressing quickly however, it is by contrast with the supeat the present moment- his real fame, rior excellence of the story otherwise that which depends upon a very much smaller the melodramatic part of "David Copperfoundation than that which has been given field" is more repulsive than usual. Steerhim by contemporary opinion, will be forth and his mother, and the monstrous found to rest more upon these two pictures imagination called Rosa Dartle, are thre than on anything else he has done. nightmare of the book, and even the despair of little Emily and the virtuousness of Peggotty are tiresome. "Skip the pathos," was the earnest injunction which we lately heard addressed to a benevolent reader who was reading "Copperfield" aloud. Perhaps this is too much to say, but yet the reader will find it safe to pass over a great deal of the more touching portions; the strength of Dickens did not lie there. We may say here that of all his books "Copperfield" is the one which the reader has most satisfaction in. It has, besides this matchless group, many of Dickens's pleasantest sketches and best characters. Even the hero himself is capable of attracting us in a way not usually achieved by a jeune premier, and there is actually an interest apart from any drollery in the story of his childish life, the curious lone. This is specially true of the short stories liness and independence of its introductory published on successive Christmases, the chapter, and the pleasant reality of grow- first of which produced an effect which at ing up and youthful experience which this distance we find it very difficult to acmarks the boy's progress into manhood. count for. Dickens was then at the highMiss Betsy Trotwood, too, is an admirable est pinnacle of his fame, and everything sketch, the very best of Dickens's wo- that fell from his lips was eagerly received men; and though the touch of melodrama by an admiring public; and the "Christin her is quite unnecessary, it is not suffi- mas Carol," the apotheosis of turkey and ciently offensive to demand any strong plum-pudding, addressed perhaps the widprotest; everything (let us add as a gen- est audience that is capable of being eral axiom) that can be skipped, and does moved by literature. The story of how not thrust itself into the complications of Scrooge was converted from avarice and the tale, may be forgiven. The episode misery into the very jovialest of Pickof poor little foolish Dora is both amus- wickian old gentlemen, moved us all in ing and touching, though after the mar- those days as if it had been a new gospel. riage the child-wife is often on the point There was nothing recondite about it, no of growing tedious. Simple silliness is finer meaning that escaped the common one of the most difficult things in the eye; everybody understood the moral, an 1 world to manage at length, and the author perceived at a glance how beneficent was is prevented from adding anything to the training which prompted an old Skinmake it piquant by all the circumstances flint to send a prize turkey for his poor of the story, and the human prejudice clerk's Christmas dinner, and poke him which protects the little bride; but bar- in the ribs and raise his salary next day. The "Christmas Carol" was the beginning have made of Esther Summering's conof the flood of terrible joviality and senti-sciousness, and her well-feigned surprise mentality which since that time has poured at everybody's good opinion of her! but upon us with every Christmas, which de- by this time he is too languid for such an tracts from our gratitude; but its effect at effort, and is compelled to take, as it were, the time of its publication was extraor- to a kind of imaginative dram-drinking to dinary, and it must, we presume, have rouse him up, in the shape of spontaneous been attended by good practical results. combustion and other horrors. Little It is seldom that the teacher of charity Miss Flite, who has been crazed by the can lay hold upon so vast an audience; Court of Chancery, is a fantastic figure, and the kindly moral was perhaps all the worthy of a place in the permanent collecmore generally acceptable, that it required tion of oddities which this author has no great elevation of sentiment or spiritual added to his more important pictures, discrimination. This, however, is the only and there is a languid sketch of one of one of these smaller productions which the many prodigals of fiction, with some will retain its position. The succeeding novelty in it, in the person of Richard, stories, though all bearing the same good who considers himself to have saved the meaning, dwindled by degrees into the money which he is prevented from throwmaudlin vein. "Scrooge" retains a cer- ing away, and consequently throws it tain vigour still, but not by right of any away the second time, with the clearest vivid character or striking scene. Its in- conscience and a gentle sense of duty. terest is almost entirely forced, and its Perhaps, however, the only real hold power quite artificial. Goose and stuff-which this book ever had upon the poping are its most etherial influences; and the episode of Tiny Tim is like the others we have instanced, only touching because of the personal recollections which any allusion to a feeble or dying child inevitably recall. The episode, however, must have been a favourite with the author, since it remained one of his selected passages in his readings till the end of his career. ular imagination was through Mrs. Jellyby and Mrs. Pardiggle, who belong to that class of female philanthropists whom the English public has a certain savage delight in annihilating. Mrs. Jellyby's pleas ant placidity in the midst of all the miseries of her household, her perfect temper and good-humoured indifference to everybody's sufferings, are very much It is perhaps too early as yet to decide more true and amusing, however, than the which of the later books are likely to re- strained fun of Borrioboola-gha, and it is tain any permanent place in English lit- a phase of character the author is fond of. erature; nor do we recollect sufficiently "Little Dorrit" is, again, a step lower the order in which they were published down in the scale than "Bleak House." (which, by the way, is not retained in any There is an effective situation, that of the printed list we can lay our hands on), to Marshalsea prison, and the strange squalid say when it was that the current slackened, life of the family, which has no other that the indications of genius began to grow home; but Mr. Dorrit is but the Diddler less frequent, and the creative impulse to development of Mr. Dickens's favourite fail. Our own impression is, that in" Cop- character; his grandeur and his meanness perfield" Mr. Dickens's genius culminated, are all gleaned from previous sketches, and that everything after gives symptoms and the result is neither interesting nor of decay. "Bleak House" and "Little agreeable; whereas the heroine is one of Dorrit stand on a much lower elevation, those inconceivably and foolishly devoted and "Our Mutual Friend" on a humbler little persons, mawkishly fond of some level still. The impulse and spontaneity disagreeable relation, and delighting in are gone; by times a gleam of the original making victims and sacrifices of themenergy comes back, but as a rule the work selves, who represent the highest type of is a manufacture, bearing painful marks female character to the author. The best of the hammer, and brought into being thing in the book is the Circumlocution by an act of will, not by the spontaneous Office, there set forth at full length; and movement of life. Even the type of char- the talk of the retainers and poor relaacter deteriorates. The smug, self-con- tions of the Barnacle and Stiltstalking scious, professional duties of the heroine families, the two statesmen races, which is of "Bleak House," which it always aston- a not unmeaning though feeble echo of ishes her so much to find appreciated and the talk which may be heard every day applauded, takes up a great deal more among the decayed members of the govroom than it has any right to do, and ir-erning classes. ritates and wearies the reader. What fun To "Our Mutual Friend" and "The Mr. Dickens, in his earlier vigour, could | Tale of Two Cities" we can give no place at all. The latter might have been writ- when his loathed and feared patron is in ten by any new author, so little of Dick- danger, the young fellow holds by him ens there is in it. In short, we believe and schemes to save him- have considthere are at least half-a-dozen writers ex- erable impressiveness and power. The tant who could have produced a piece a book is painful in the highest degree; and great deal more like the master, and with nothing could be imagined more artificial much more credible marks of authenticity. and false than the picture of Miss Havis"Edwin Drood" has been supposed by ham, the vindictive deserted bride, who many a kind of resurrection, or at least has shut herself up for a quarter of a the forerunner of a resurrection, of his century in her dressing-room, where she characteristic force. But we cannot say sits in her wedding-dress, which apparthat such is the impression produced upon ently has lasted all that time too, with but our own mind. Of all undesirable things one shoe on, exactly as she was when the to be deprecated by an admirer of Dick- news of her lover's falsehood reached her. ens, we should say that the resurrection This mad figure, seated with a still madof his peculiar style of tragedy would be der disregard of possibility amid her ababout the greatest-and this is all which surd surroundings, is neither tragical, as could be hoped from the opening of "Ed- she is meant to be, nor amusing, but win Drood." Jasper did indeed give simply foolish: but the story of Pip's promise of being one of the blackest of horror at the sudden apparition of his the impossible scoundrels whom from time benefactor, the sense of repulsion with to time he has brought into being for our which he struggles, while he tries to be gratification; but Durdles is one of the kind to him, and his exertions to get him weakest ghosts of the past, and the Dep-free at the last, are boldly conceived and uty a most pitiful shadow of those gamins well told. Had another man done it, the who were ever so full of life and spirit. likelihood is that the new author would This fire, we think, there can be little doubt, had died out. Fun and high spirits are perhaps of all other qualities of the mind the ones which do rub out most easily. We do not doubt that Dickens was as strong as ever in constructive power, in pathos, and in philosophy; but then these are precisely the points at which our understanding leaves him. So far as we are concerned, we could dispense with all, or almost all, he has done in these particulars. The higher fount of humour, from which, indeed, at the best of times, he drew but sparingly, was dry; and even the abundant flood of cheerful wit, and large, laughing, though superficial, observation, had failed: never, we And when we look back upon the think, has there been a more distinct works of Dickens, they divide themselves decadence. But natural decadence is no at once into these two classes - the works shame to any man: the only thing that of his heyday and prime, and the works can give it a sting is the desperate effort of his decadence. The natural vigour of some men are compelled to make to keep the one contrasts in the most singular up lost fame and do impossible work after manner with the strain and effort of the the fiat has gone out against them. And this Dickens was not called upon to do. have been much applauded for an effective and powerful bit of work; but all that was characteristic in Dickens, all that was best in him, had faded off the scene before we received this with the' applause which attends a popular actor's best performance. How changed he is from what we have known him! we say to each other, as we fling our bouquets on the stage: we withdraw behind the curtains of our box that he may not see us, and shake our heads as he raises, with tremulous loudness, that voice which once rang easily through the house without labour or effort. Poor old fellow, how he has gone off! we say - and applaud all the more. other; and yet, if we examine into the matter, the change is very natural and exThere is a gleam, however, of departing plainable. The great source of his popenergy in the curious book called "Great ularity is the immense flow of spirits, the Expectations," which is worth noticing. abundant tide of life, which runs through It is not in the old strain, nor specially his early works. He never spares himself characteristic of Dickens, but there is a in this respect, but pours forth crowds of certain power in the conception. The supernumeraries upon his stage, like an horror of the young hero, who has been adopted and "made a gentleman of" by a convict, when he finds out who his benefactor is the strange wild love and pride of the man in the "gentleman" whom he has made the faithfulness with which, enterprising manager at Christmas time, sparing no expense, as it were, and giving himself infinite trouble merely to provide a rich and varied background for his principal figures. He leaves upon our minds an impression of unbounded wealth and at the very roots of his success, for his For this reason, and many other reasons already indicated, it appears to us that Dickens's place and fame in the future are likely to shrink much from their present proportions. illimitable resources. We know that it will be no trouble to him to fill up any vacant corner with a group; and even while the thought crosses our mind, his eye has caught the vacancy, and a halfdozen of living creatures are tossed into the gap in the twinkling of an eye. This overflowing abundance has a wonderful effect upon the public mind. A sense of something like infinity grows, upon us as we see the new forms appear out of the void without even a word, at a glance from the painter's eye. And then his creative energy was such that a stream of fun passed into the dulness along with this strain of life. These new people amused their author. He dressed them in the first fantastic garb that might come to his hand, and set them free to dance through their eccentric circle as they chose. This imWhen all its adventitious mense energy, fertility, and plentifulness helps are gone, and he comes to be judged is, however, one of the gifts that can least simply on his merits, the importance of his be warranted to last. It belongs to the position will be greatly lessened. Perhaps first half of life, and could scarcely be ex- he may even be the victim of an unjust pected to survive beyond that period. revulsion from all the false emotion and When the intellectual pulse began to beat claptrap sentiment surrounded by which it slower, and the tide of existence to run has been his unfortunate fate to leave the less full, this power abated, as was natural. world. He has had so much false reputaThough there were still as many people on tion, that it is but too possible his true the canvas, these people were but the reputation may suffer temporary eclipse by ghosts of the lusty crowds of old; and one of those revenges which time brings even the numbers got reduced; the supers about so surely. Unjust depreciation, howbegan to be dismissed; and economy stole ever, is as much to be avoided as the false in where prodigality had once ruled the glory which so many injudicions applauses day. If the reader will look at the later have raised about his name. He was not, works, he will perceive at once this less- as he is said to be, a writer of the highest ened fulness. When the author himself moral tendency, because the company he became aware of it, the knowledge roused introduces to us, par predilection, is not by him to preternatural exertions. The ab- any means good company; and the virtue surder oddities of Dickens are crowded which he makes a point of recommending into these later books in a forlorn attempt is very poor and mawkish in its pretended to make extravagance do the work of excellence. But, at the same time, he energy. Such weird and grotesque figures, never introduces one scene, and scarcely a for instance, as the doll's dress-maker, thought, which transgresses the severest and Mr. Venus, the maker of skeletons, laws of modesty; and this, though negacould not have existed in the earlier and tive, is praise of the very highest descripbrighter period. They are the offspring tion. His weight is always thrown into of exaggeration - strange evidences of the the scale of goodness; nor does he ever wild and almost despairing attempt to keep lend a grace of sentiment to vice, or even on a level with himself. This extreme attempt to excuse the inexcusable. Had strain and effort to prolong the prodigality he indulged in the propensities of the of early work is at the same time, no doubt," Guy Livingston" type of novelists, it is one of the reasons why he never attains in any instance to the vigour and originality of his beginning. It might have been supposed that the very narrowing of the sphere would intensify the individual conceptions; but Dickens would not consent to narrow his sphere, and did not give his powers fair-play. Thus the tide of his genius fell, as the tide of life falls. That elaboration which experience and study make natural to the mature mind, struck impossible to calculate the harm he might have done, or the floods of debasing influ ences he might have poured forth upon the world. But in this point even Mrs. Gamp is as blameless as Mrs. Grundy. nay, infinitely more innocent; for Mrs. Grundy's social heroine is seldom anything so respectable as the mother of six. Mr. Dickens's claims as a humorist, in the highest sense of the word, are limited, |