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dent, and may be read with advantage by older persons. The miscellaneous sketches prepared for these papers were published together by the name of "The Uncommercial Traveller," and met with a warm reception.

“Great Expectations," and "A Tale of Two Cities," also appeared first as serials; and the latter is counted the most intellectual of any of the works of Dickens. From the "Tale of Two Cities," there is only space here to present a slight sketch, which conveys a sweet and holy picture of childhood, and refutes the idea that Mr. Dickens thought irreverently of the Saviour:

"A wonderful corner for echoes, it has been remarked, — that corner where the doctor lived. Ever busily winding the golden thread which bound her husband and her father and herself, and her old directress and companion, in a life of quiet bliss, Lucie sat in the still house, in the tranquilly resounding corner, listening to the echoing footsteps of years.

"At first there were times, though she was a perfectly happy young wife, when her work would slowly fall from her hands, and her eyes would be dimmed; for there was something coming in the echoes, something light, afar off, and scarcely audible yet, that stirred her heart too much. Fluttering hopes and doubts — hopes of a love as yet unknown to her, doubts of her remain

ing upon earth to enjoy that new delight-divided her breast. Among the echoes, then, there would arise the sound of footsteps at her own early grave; and thoughts of the husband who would be left so desolate, and who would mourn for her so much, swelled to her eyes, and broke like waves.

"That time passed; and her little Lucie lay on her bosom. Then, among the advancing echoes, there was the tread of her tiny feet and the sound of her prattling words. Let greater echoes resound as they would, the young mother at the cradle-side could always hear those coming. They came, and the shady house was sunny with a child's laugh; and the divine Friend of children, to whom, in her trouble, she had confided hers, seemed to take her child in his arms as he took the child of old, and made it a sacred joy to her.

"Ever busily winding the golden thread that bound them all together, weaving the service of her happy influence through the tissue of all their lives, and making it predominate nowhere, Lucie heard in the echoes of years none but friendly and soothing sounds. Her husband's step was strong and prosperous among them ; her father's firm and equal. Lo, Miss Pross, in harness of string, awakening the echoes, as an unruly charger, whip-corrected, snorting, and pawing the earth under the plane-tree in the garden!

"Even when there were sounds of sorrow among the rest, they were not harsh nor cruel. Even when golden

hair, like her own, lay in a halo on a pillow round the worn face of a little boy, and he said with a radiant smile, 'Dear papa and mamma, I am very sorry to leave you both, and to leave my pretty sister; but I am called,

and I must go!' — those were not tears all of that agony wetted his young mother's cheek as the spirit departed from her embrace that had been intrusted to it. Suffer them, and forbid them not. They see my Father's face. O Father, blessed words!

"Thus the rustling of an angel's wings got blended with the other echoes; and they were not wholly of earth, but had in them that breath of heaven. Sighs of the winds that blew over a little garden-tomb were mingled with them also; and both were audible to Lucie in a hushed murmur, like the breathing of a summer sea asleep upon a sandy shore, as the little Lucie, comically studious at the task of the morning, or dressing a doll at her mother's footstool, chattered in the tongues of the two cities that were blended in her life."

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"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver or gold." - PROV. xxii. 1.

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N America, the popularity of Mr. Dickens is now as great, probably, as in his own country. The picture-stores present his portrait in an endless variety of forms, — standing, sitting, writing. Magazines and weekly literary periodicals are illustrated with pictures of him and of his place of residence. The rich and the poor respect his memory; for hearts everywhere in our broad land have been cheered and blessed by the writings of Charles Dickens. Even the prisoner in his cell has been blessed with the memory of his sweet, ennobling words. At the State Prison in Massachusetts, the convicts once

were allowed a Christmas festival, when the warden,* read to them in the chapel from Dickens's "Christmas Carol."

James T. Fields, his Boston publisher, bears testimony of Mr. Dickens, which would lead one to suppose this reading of his "Carol" to prisoners would especially delight his benevolent heart; for as Mr. Fields testi

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"When he came into the presence of squalid or de graded persons, such as one sometimes encounters in almshouses or prisons, he had such soothing words to scatter here and there, that those who had been 'most hurt by the archers' listened gladly, and loved him without knowing who it was that found it in his heart to speak so kindly to them."

Various editions of the works of Dickens have been published in this country, of which the diamond edition is perhaps the most popular. The books are small enough to take with one on a journey, and well illustrated; while the type, though small, is clear, and easily read. "Of the many portraits of Charles Dickens, that which has the approval of Dickens' himself is by Eytinge, the illustrator of the diamond edition, and published by Ticknor & Fields. The por

* Hon. Gideon Haynes, author of Prison-Life.

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