Towns > Stirling > 1897, 1903, 1906, 1909 - Cook and Wylie's Stirling Directory > 1897

i a jam a^jfi
which several generations of chil-
dren have heartily enjoyed for its
stories without bestowing a thought
on its philosophy, was born in Well-
close Square in 1748.
His father held a place in the
Custom House, and left him a for-
tune of £1,200 a year. He was edu-
cated at the Charterhouse and
Oxford, and spent some time in
France, where he received the new
philosophy of education.
Having resolved on marriage, he
determined that his wife should he
modelled in accordance with the
new light.
He therefore went to an orphan
asylum at Shrewsbury and picked
out a flaxen-haired girl of twelve,
whom he named Sabrina Sidney,
after the Severn and Algernon
Sidney, and then to the Foundling
Hospital in London, where he
selected a second, whom he called
Lucretia.
In taking these girls he gave a
written pledge that within a year
he would place one of them with a
respectable tradesman, giving £100
to bind her apprentice, and that he
should maintain her if she should
turn out well until she married or
commenced business, in either of
which cases he would advance £500.
With Sabrina and Lucretia he set
off for France, in order that in quiet
he might discover and discipline
their characters. He, however,
quarrelled with the girls.
Next day they took smallpox, and
he had to nurse them night and day,
and by-and-by he was glad to return
to London and get Lucretia off his
hands by apprenticing her to a
milliner on Ludgate Hill. She be-
haved well, and on her marriage
to a substantial linendraper, Day
cheerfully produced his promised
dowry of £500.
Poor Sabrina could by no means
qualify for Mr. Day. Against the
sense of pain and danger no disci-
pline could fortify her. When Day
dropped melting sealing-wax on her
arms, she flinched, and when he
fired pistols at ber garments, she
started and screamed. When he
told her secrets, she divulged
them.
He packed her off to an ordinary
boarding school, kept her there for
three years, allowed her £50 a year,
gave her £500 on her marriage to a
barrister, and when she became a
widow, with two boys, he pensioned
her with £30 a year.
In 1788 he married Miss Milnes, of
Wakefield, a lady whose opinions
coincided with his own.
DUTCH NAMES FOR THE
MONTHS.
In Holland the following poetic
names for the months are in use:—
January — Lauromaand, chilly
month ; February — Svrokelmaand,
vegetation month ; March — Lent-
maand, spring month ; April— Gras-
maand, grass month; May — Blow-
maand, flower month ; June—Zomer-
maand, summer month; July—Hooy-
maand, hay month; August — Oost-
maand, harvest month ; September—
Hertsmaand, autumn month ; October
— Wynmaand,wine month; November
—Slagmaand, slaughter month; De-
cember— Winter maand, winter month.
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF CHARLES
DICKENS.
WFfO writer ever lived whose method was more exact,
J[M whose industry was more constant, and whose
" ^ punctuality was more marked, than those of Charles
Dickens.
He never shirked labour, mental or bodily. He rarely
declined, if the object were a good one, taking the chair at a
public meeting, or accepting a charitable trust. Many
widows and orphans of deceased literary men have been
benefited by his wise trusteeship or counsel, and he spent a
great portion of his time personally looking after the
property of the poor whose interests were under his control.
His studies were all from nature and life, and his habits of
Observation were untiring. If he contemplated writing
" Hard Times," he arranged with the master of Astley's circus
to spend many hours behind the scenes with the riders and
among the horses ; and if the composition of the " Tale of
Two Cities " were occupying his thoughts, he could go to
France for two years to prepare for that great work.
Hogarth pencilled on his thumb-nail a striking face in
a crowd that he wished to preserve ; Dickens with his trans-
cendent memory chronicled in his mind whatever of interest
met his eye or reached his ear, any time or anywhere.
Speaking of memory one day, he said the memory of
children was prodigious ; it was a mistake to fancy children
ever forgot anything. When he was delineating the character
of Mrs. Pipchin, he had in his mind an old lodging-house
keeper in an English watering-place where he was living with
his father and mother when he was but two years old.
After the book was written he sent it to his sister, who
wrote back at once : " Good heavens ! what does this mean ?
you have painted our lodging-house keeper, and you were but
two years old at that time 1 "
Characters and incidents crowded the chambers of his
brain, all ready for use when occasion required. No subject
of human interest was ever indifferent to him, and never a
day went by that did not afford him some suggestion to be
utilised in the future.
His favourite mode of exercise was walking ; and when in
health, scarcely a day passed, no matter what the weather,
that he did not accomplish his eight or ten miles. It was on
these expeditions that he liked to recount to the companion
of his rambles stories and incidents of his early life ; and
when he was in the mood, his fun and humour knew no
bounds.
He would then frequently discuss the numerous characters
in his delightful books, and would act out, on the road,
dramatic situations, where Nickleby or Copperfield or
Swiveller would play distinguished parts.
In answer one day to a question, prompted by psychological
curiosity, if he ever dreamed of any of his characters, his
reply was, " Never ; and I am convinced that no writer
(judging from my own experience, which cannot be altogether
singular, but must be a type of the experience of others) has
ever dreamed of the creatures of his own imagination. It
would," he went on to say, "be like a man's dreaming of
meeting himself, which is clearly an impossibility. Things
exterior to one's self must always be the basis of dreams."
The growing up of characters in his mind never lost for him
a sense of the marvellous. " What an unfathomable mystery
there is in it all 1 " he said one day. Taking up a wineglass,
he continued : " Suppose I choose to call this a character, fancy
it a man, endue it with certain qualities, and soon the fine,
filmy webs of thought, almost impalpable, coming from every
direction, we know not whence, spin and weave about it,
until it assumes form and beauty, and becomes instinct with
life." James J. Field.