MR. DICKENS begs to inform all those Ladies and Gentlemen who have
tendered him contributions for this work, and all those who may now
or at any future time have it in contemplation to do so, that he
cannot avail himself of their obliging offers, as it is written
solely by himself, and cannot possibly include any productions from
other hands.
This announcement will serve for a final answer to all
correspondents, and will render any private communications
unnecessary.
After “winding up his Clock,” as he termed it, Dickens resolved to make a
tour in the United States. Before he went away, however, some of the
most distinguished citizens of Edinburgh gave him a farewell banquet.
{18b} He was then only twenty-nine years of age, and this was the first
great public recognition of his genius, and the first occasion that was
afforded him of displaying his powers as a public speaker. Professor
Wilson (Christopher North) presided, and spoke of the young author in the
following terms:—
“Our friend has dealt with the common feelings and passions of
ordinary men in the common and ordinary paths of life. He has not
sought—at least he has not yet sought—to deal with those thoughts and
passions that are made conspicuous from afar by the elevated stations
of those who experience them. He has mingled in the common walks of
life; he has made himself familiar with the lower orders of society.
He has not been deterred by the aspect of vice and wickedness, and
misery and guilt, from seeking a spirit of good in things evil, but
has endeavoured by the might of genius to transmute what was base
into what is precious as the beaten gold. . . . But I shall be
betrayed, if I go on much longer,—which it would be improper for me
to do—into something like a critical delineation of the genius of our
illustrious guest. I shall not attempt that; but I cannot but
express in a few ineffectual words, the delight which every human
bosom feels in the benign spirit which pervades all his creations.
How kind and good a man he is, I need not say; nor what strength of
genius he has acquired by that profound sympathy with his
fellow-creatures, whether in prosperity and happiness, or overwhelmed
with unfortunate circumstances, but who do not yet sink under their
miseries, but trust to their own strength of endurance, to that
principle of truth and honour and integrity which is no stranger to
the uncultivated bosom, which is found in the lowest abodes in as
great strength as in the halls of nobles and the palaces of kings.
“Mr. Dickens is also a satirist. He satirises human life, but he
does not satirise it to degrade it. He does not wish to pull down
what is high into the neighbourhood of what is low. He does not seek
to represent all virtue as a hollow thing, in which no confidence can
be placed. He satirises only the selfish, and the hard-hearted, and
the cruel; he exposes in a hideous light that principle which, when
acted upon, gives a power to men in the lowest grades to carry on a
more terrific tyranny than if placed upon thrones. I shall not
say—for I do not feel—that our distinguished guest has done full and
entire justice to one subject—that he has entirely succeeded where I
have no doubt he would be most anxious to succeed—in a full and
complete delineation of the female character. But this he has done:
he has not endeavoured to represent women as charming merely by the
aid of accomplishments, however elegant and graceful. He has not
depicted those accomplishments as the essentials of their character,
but has spoken of them rather as always inspired by a love of
domesticity, by fidelity, by purity, by innocence, by charity, and by
hope, which makes them discharge, under the most difficult
circumstances, their duties; and which brings over their path in this
world some glimpses of the light of heaven. Mr. Dickens may be
assured that there is felt for him all over Scotland a sentiment of
kindness, affection, admiration and love; and I know for certain that
the knowledge of these sentiments must make him happy.”
* * * * *
Dickens left Liverpool, on his voyage across the Atlantic, in the
“Britannia” steam-packet, Captain Hewett, on the 3rd of January, 1842.
At Boston, Hartford, and New York, he was received with ovations
(Washington Irving on one occasion presiding at a banquet held in his
honour), until he was obliged to decline any further appearance in
public. During this first visit to America, he made three long and
eloquent speeches, which are all given in this volume _in extenso_. In
each of these he referred in an earnest way to the great question of
International Copyright, urging upon his Transatlantic friends the
necessity of doing right and justice in this matter. He returned to
England in the month of June, and a few weeks afterwards addressed the
following circular letter to all the principal English authors:—
“1, DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, York Gate, Regent’s Park,
“7_th_ _July_, 1842.
“You may perhaps be aware that, during my stay in America, I lost no
opportunity of endeavouring to awaken the public mind to a sense of
the unjust and iniquitous state of the law in that country, in
reference to the wholesale piracy of British works. Having been
successful in making the subject one of general discussion in the
United States, I carried to Washington, for presentation to Congress
by Mr. Clay, a petition from the whole body of American authors,
earnestly praying for the enactment of an International Copyright
Law. It was signed by Mr. Washington Irving, Mr. Prescott, Mr.
Cooper, and every man who has distinguished himself in the literature
of America; and has since been referred to a Select Committee of the
House of Representatives. To counteract any effect which might be
produced by that petition, a meeting was held in Boston—which, you
will remember, is the seat and stronghold of Learning and Letters in
the United States—at which a memorial against any change in the
existing state of things in this respect was agreed to, with but one
dissentient voice. This document, which, incredible as it may appear
to you, was actually forwarded to Congress and received, deliberately
stated that if English authors were invested with any control over
the re-publication of their own books, it would be no longer possible
for American editors to alter and adapt them (as they do now) to the
American taste! This memorial was, without loss of time, replied to
by Mr. Prescott, who commented, with the natural indignation of a
gentleman, and a man of letters, upon its extraordinary dishonesty.
I am satisfied that this brief mention of its tone and spirit is
sufficient to impress you with the conviction that it becomes all
those who are in any way connected with the literature of England, to
take that high stand, to which the nature of their pursuits, and the
extent of their sphere of usefulness, justly entitle them, to
discourage the upholders of such doctrines by every means in their
power, and to hold themselves aloof from the remotest participation
in a system, from which the moral sense and honourable feeling of all
just men must instinctively recoil.
“For myself, I have resolved that I will never from this time enter
into any negotiation with any person for the transmission across the
Atlantic of early proofs of anything I may write, and that I will
forego all profit derivable from such a source. I do not venture to
urge this line of proceeding upon you, but I would beg to suggest,
and to lay great stress upon the necessity of observing one other
course of action, to which I cannot too emphatically call your
attention. The persons who exert themselves to mislead the American
public on this question, to put down its discussion, and to suppress
and distort the truth in reference to it in every possible way, are
(as you may easily suppose) those who have a strong interest in the
existing system of piracy and plunder: inasmuch as, so long as it
continues, they can gain a very comfortable living out of the brains
of other men, while they would find it very difficult to earn bread
by the exercise of their own. These are the editors and proprietors
of newspapers almost exclusively devoted to the re-publication of
popular English works. They are, for the most part, men of very low
attainments, and of more than indifferent reputation; and I have
frequently seen them, in the same sheet in which they boast of the
rapid sale of many thousand copies of an English reprint, coarsely
and insolently attacking the author of that very book, and heaping
scurrility and slander upon his head. I would therefore entreat you,
in the name of the honourable pursuit with which you are so
intimately connected, never to hold correspondence with any of these
men, and never to negotiate with them for the sale of early proofs of
any work over which you have control, but to treat on all occasions
with some respectable American publishing house, and with such an
establishment only. Our common interest in this subject, and my
advocacy of it, single-handed, on every occasion that has presented
itself during my absence from Europe, form my excuse for addressing
you.
“I am, &c.,
“CHARLES DICKENS.”
By his “American Notes,” and by some of the scenes in “Martin
Chuzzlewit,” Dickens gave for a time great offence to the Americans,
though he only satirised some of their foibles (with just a spice of
piquante exaggeration), as he had ours at home. Let the reader hear what
two candid Americans have recently written on this subject:—
“The ‘American Notes’ are weak, and unworthy of their author; but the
American sketches in ‘Martin Chuzzlewit’ are among the cleverest and
truest things he has ever written. The satire was richly deserved,
well applied, and has done a great deal of good. To claim that it
was mere burlesque and exaggeration, is sheer nonsense, and it is
highly disingenuous to deny the existence of the absurdities upon
which it was founded. Moreover, the popular implication that there
is really nothing now in the country justly to provoke a smile—to
urge with so much complacency that we have changed all that—argues
the continued existence of not a little of the same thin-skinned
tetchiness, the same inability ‘to see ourselves as others see us,’
which made us so legitimate a target before.”
“As for certain American portraits painted in Martin Chuzzlewit,”
says an American lady, {24} “I should as soon think of objecting to
them as I should think of objecting to any other discovery in natural
history. To deny the existence of Elijah Pogram, Jefferson Brick,
Colonel Diver, Mrs. Hominy, and Miss Codger, is to deny facts
somewhat exaggerated, that are patent to any keen observer who has
ever travelled through the United States. The character of Elijah
Pogram is so well known as to constantly figure in the world of
illustration; and we can well afford to laugh at foibles of native
growth when Mr. Dickens devotes the greater part of this same novel
to the exposition of English vice and selfishness.”
The following letter, referring to Martin Chuzzlewit, which was then in
course of publication, was addressed by Mr. Dickens to a friend in
January, 1844:—
“Devonshire Terrace,
“_January_ 2_d_, 1844.