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https://dickenssearch.com/files/original/5/A_Child_s_Dream_of_a_Star/1850-04-06-A_Childs_Dream_Star.pdf
7e887feaa5a6773e1a582fb0d447ac7e
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
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Short Fiction
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
short-stories
Contributor
An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource
Lydia Craig
Scripto
Transcription
A written representation of a document.
<p><strong>This collection (still in development) unites various short stories that Dickens wrote throughout his career for various publications, including newspapers and periodicals, and for inclusion in short story collections.</strong></p>
<p>Between 1833, when he tentatively submitted “A Dinner at Poplar Walk” for publication in <em>The Monthly Magazine,</em> and his death in 1870, Dickens as ‘BOZ,’ briefly, as ‘TIBBS,’ and as “Charles Dickens” wrote dozens of short stories and ‘sketches,’ which often moved easily between journalism and story. It was as Boz, the late Georgian literary persona, that he first endeared himself to the British reading public in the pages of such newspapers and periodicals as <em>The Evening Chronicle</em>, <em>Bell’s Life in London, </em>and <em>Bentley's Miscellany</em> with a unique blend of comedy and pathos. By turns scathing of observed social and personal injustices, and appreciative of London’s colourful, vibrant culture and the oddities of human nature, Boz followed in the literary footsteps of other recent metropolitan commentators like Charles Lamb (‘ELIA’), Leigh Hunt, Theodore Hook, Robert Surtees, Thomas Hood, and John Poole, and eighteenth-century Picaresque novelists, Tobias Smollett and Henry Fielding. Soon, Dickens established his own unique voice. Prior to and following the ascension of the young Queen Victoria in 1837, Boz became a prescient spectator of both the rising empire’s rapidly developing culture in public spaces and of the domestic dramas enacted in British homes.</p>
<p>Global fame arrived with the serial publication of <em>The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club</em> (1837), marking Dickens’s shift to writing novels. In tone, this rambling comedic travelogue owed much to Boz’s voice and incidentally featured several tales unrelated to the main narrative. Dickens would sporadically publish the Mudfog stories in 1836 and 1837, enlarging on them in <em>Sketches by Boz</em>, a collection of many of the sketches and stories first published by John Macrone in two volumes in 1836 and 1837 and illustrated by George Cruikshank. According to Robert L. Patten, ‘When Dickens gathered up previously published writing, anonymous and pseudonymous, for republication, he identified authorship with a particular subset of his journalistic pieces, the ‘sketches’ rather than the tales or portraits of characters, and with his pseudonym. Hence, after mooting several other titles, Dickens settled on <em>Sketches by Boz</em>’ (44). <em>Sketches of Young Gentlemen</em> (1838), a joking response to Rev. Edward Caswell, or “QUIZ’s” recent effort <em>Sketches of Young Ladies</em> (1838), and <em>Sketches of Couples</em> (1840) were published by Chapman and Hall and illustrated by Hablot Knight Browne, better known as ‘PHIZ’.</p>
<p>After this point, Dickens’s short stories were published in his periodicals <em>Household Words</em> and <em>All the Year Round</em>, though after 1837 he never published them with any regularity, preferring instead to focus on writing and serialising novels. Occasionally, he contributed several chapters to a jointly authored short story, collection, or series; Christmas numbers of his periodicals provided the opportunity to feature multiple famous writers uniting to weave a Yule-tide yarn, such as <em>The Haunted House</em> (1859). Notably, his collaboration with Wilkie Collins resulted in such works as <em>The Perils of Certain English Prisoners</em> (1857) and <em>No Thoroughfare</em> (1867). Towards the end of his life, Dickens began to publish short stories again in American publications such as <em>The New York Ledger, The Atlantic Monthly, </em>and <em>Our Young Folks</em>.</p>
<p>Until now, first printings of Dickens’s earliest short stories published between 1833 and 1836 have been difficult to find for those unable to visit the periodicals and newspaper holdings at eminent institutions such as The British Library. Similarly, the last ones written by Dickens have remained understudied due in part to their obscurity. Twentieth-century editions of the <em>Sketches </em>are generally based on the text of Chapman and Hall’s later 1839 single volume edition, which relies on the reissue serialised between 1837 and 1839, or the 1868 Charles Dickens Edition, which is based on the 1850 cheap (and further revised) edition.</p>
<p>Other anthologies, for instance <em>Selected Short Fiction</em> (Penguin, 2005), edited by Deborah A. Thomas, choose excerpts from Dickens’s entire <em>oeuvre </em>in the short fiction genre. Several scholars have explored the drafting, publication, and impact of the early sketches and short stories, with notable studies including <em>Dickens and the Short Story</em>. (University of Philadelphia Press, 1982) by Deborah A. Thomas and <em>Charles Dickens and ‘Boz’: The Birth of the Industrial-Age Author</em> (Cambridge, 2012) by Patten.1 To date, the most comprehensive overview of the sketches is provided by<em> The Oxford Edition of Charles Dickens’s Sketches by Boz</em> (2021) edited by Paul Schlicke with David Hewitt. Others include <em>Dickens's Uncollected Magazine and Newspaper Sketches as Originally Composed and Published 1833–1836</em> (2012), edited by Robert C. Hanna, and <em>Sketches by Boz and Other Early Papers</em> (1994), edited by Michael Slater.</p>
<p>Because Dickens made many alterations, whether significant or incidental, between the first printing of a sketch and successive editions, these changes open up a window into his editorial process and developing intentions for the ‘Boz’ legacy. Now, with this <em>Dickens Search</em> collection, these emendations can be studied with greater ease than ever before. Our transcription field contains text Dickens is believed to have solely authored, though our pdfs of the short story collaborations will be provided in their entirety to facilitate easier engagement and comprehension of how his narrative might interact with those constructed by other writers. Ngram search and other text analysis tools will be applied to Dickens’s words only, to avoid skewing the results.<br /><br />While building this collection, we have consulted, and transcribed scans found on databases such as <em>British Newspaper Archive (BNA),</em> digital archives, and such open-access sites as<em> Hathi Trust, Internet Archive,</em> and <em>Google Books</em>; all items are linked to their original location on the internet.</p>
<p>Please contact us with any errors, corrections, and suggestions, or to mention other short stories by Dickens that might have been overlooked.</p>
1. See Dominic Rainsford. ‘“Luller-li-e-te”! Language, Personhood, and Sympathy in <em>Sketches by Boz.’</em> In <em>Some Keywords in Dickens</em>. Edited by Michael Hollington, Francesca Orestano, and Nathalie Vanfasse. Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2021, pp. 117-130; William F. Long. ‘“Our Space is Limited”: Fitting Sketches by Boz into the <em>Morning Chronicle</em>”. <em>Dickens Quarterly </em>4 (December 2020): pp. 325-348; William F. Long. 'Dickens before <em>Sketches by Boz</em>: Earliest Reactions to his Earliest Works'. <em>Dickensian</em> (2018), 114.505, pp.170-176; Christina Jen. '"Drop the Curtain": Astonishment and the Anxieties of Authorship in Charles Dickens's <em>Sketches by Boz. Dickens Studies Annual</em> 49.2 (2018): pp. 249-278; Dianne F. Sadoff. ‘Boz and Beyond: “Oliver Twist” and the Dickens Legacy’. <em>Dickens Studies Annual</em> 45 (2014): pp. 23-44; <em>Dickens's Uncollected Magazine and Newspaper Sketches, as Originally Composed and Published, 1833–1836, </em>No. 46. Ed. Robert C. Hanna (2012): New York, AMS Press; Danielle Coriale. ‘Sketches by Boz, “So Frail a Machine”. <em>SEL: Studies in English Literature </em>48.4 (2008): pp. 801-812; Paul Schlicke. ‘“Risen Like a Rocket”: The Impact of <em>Sketches by Boz’</em>. <em>Dickens Quarterly</em> 22.1 (2005): pp. 3-18; Ellen Miller Casey. ‘“Boz has got the Town by the ear”: Dickens and the “Athenæum Critics”’. <em>Dickens Studies Annual</em> 33 (2003): pp. 159-190; Richard Maxwell. ‘Dickens, the Two “Chronicles”, and the Publication of “Sketches by Boz”’. <em>Dickens Studies Annual</em> 9 (1981): pp. 21–32; Angus Easson. “Who is Boz? Dickens and His Sketches”. <em>The Dickensian</em> 18.1.405 (Spring 1985): pp. 13-22; Julian W. Breslow. 'The Narrator in <em>Sketches by Boz</em>.' <em>ELH</em> 44.1 (1977): pp. 127–49.
Short Story
Publication Type
E.g. newspaper/serial
Periodical
Publication
The title of the newspaper/serial (if applicable)
<em>Household Words</em>
Ngram Date
Hidden from users and search. All items in a collection need to have the same data in the same format in order to show up in Ngram (either YYYY, YYYYMMDD, or YYYYMMDD). No combinations will work. For journalism, letters and poetry, if there is no month or day, default to the first of the month or January. So a poem with a date of March 1843 would be 18430301. A poem published in 1856 with no month or date information would be 18560101.
18500406
Ngram Text
Hidden from users and search. Copy and paste from the Scripto transcription. Then check and uncheck HTML to strip out all formatting. Finally, search and remove any (which is the HTML for spaces). This will prevent the Ngram picking up on irrelevant HTML.
There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the flowers; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water; they wondered at the goodness and the power of GOD who made the lovely world. They used to say to one another, sometimes, Supposing all the children upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky, be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the smallest bright specks, playing at hide and seek in the sky all night, must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more. There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever saw it first, cried out, "I see the star!" And often they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down in their beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good night; and when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, "God bless the star!" But while she was still very young, oh very very young, the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile would come upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say, "God bless my brother and the star!" And so the time came, all too soon! when the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star made long rays down towards him, as he saw it through his tears. Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them. All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy. But, there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was gloried and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host. His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither: "Is my brother come?" And he said "No." She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and cried "O, sister, I am here! Take me!" and then she turned her beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his tears. From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the Home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of his sister's angel gone before. There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken word, he stretched his tiny form out on his bed, and died. Again the child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces. Said his sister's angel to the leader: "Is my brother come?" And he said "Not that one, but another." As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O, sister, I am here! Take me! "And she turned and smiled upon him, and the star was shining. He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him, and said: "Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!" Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader: "Is my brother come?" And he said, "Thy mother!" A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-united to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!" And they answered him "Not yet," and the star was shining. He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning grey, and he was sitting in his chair by the reside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again. Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?" And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter." And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said "My daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is round my mother's neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from her, GOD be praised!" And the star was shining. Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, as he had cried so long ago: "I see the star!" They whispered one another "He is dying." And he said, "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank thee that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones who await me!" And the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave.
Dublin Core
The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/.
Title
A name given to the resource
'A Child's Dream of a Star'
Description
An account of the resource
Published in <em>Household Words,</em> Vol. I, No. 2, 6 April 1850, pp. 25-26
Creator
An entity primarily responsible for making the resource
Dickens, Charles
Date
A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource
1850-04-06
Type
The nature or genre of the resource
Short story
Identifier
An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context
1850-04-06-A_Childs_Dream_Star
Source
A related resource from which the described resource is derived
<em>Dickens Journals Online,</em> <a href="https://www.djo.org.uk/household-words/volume-i/page-25.html">https://www.djo.org.uk/household-words/volume-i/page-25.html</a>.
Bibliographic Citation
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Dickens, Charles. 'A Child's Dream of a Star' (6 April 1850). <em>Dickens Search.</em> Eds. Emily Bell and Lydia Craig. Accessed [date]. <a href="https://www.dickenssearch.com/short-stories/1850-04-06-A_Childs_Dream_Star">https://www.dickenssearch.com/short-stories/1850-04-06-A_Childs_Dream_Star</a>.
Rights
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<span>Scanned material from <em>Dickens Journals Online</em>, </span><a href="http://www.djo.org.uk/" id="LPNoLPOWALinkPreview" contenteditable="false" title="http://www.djo.org.uk">www.djo.org.uk</a><span>. A</span><span>vailable under CC BY licence.</span>
Scripto
Transcription
A written representation of a document.
There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sister, who was a child too, and his constant companion. These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the �flowers; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water; they wondered at the goodness and the power of GOD who made the lovely world. <br /><br />They used to say to one another, sometimes, Supposing all the children upon earth were to die, would the �flowers, and the water, and the sky, be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the �flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water; and the smallest bright specks, playing at hide and seek in the sky all night, must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more. <br /><br />There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand in hand at a window. Whoever saw it first, cried out, "I see the star!" And often they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it, that, before lying down in their beds, they always looked out once again, to bid it good night; and when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, "God bless the star!" <br /><br />But while she was still very young, oh very very young, the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night; and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face on the bed, "I see the star!" and then a smile would come upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say, "God bless my brother and the star!" <br /><br />And so the time came, all too soon! when the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little grave among the graves, not there before; and when the star made long rays down towards him, as he saw it through his tears. <br /><br />Now, these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them. <br /><br />All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy. <br /><br />But, there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was gloried and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host. <br /><br />His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither:<br /><br />"Is my brother come?"<br /><br />And he said "No."<br /><br />She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and cried "O, sister, I am here! Take me!" and then she turned her beaming eyes upon him, and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his tears. <br /><br />From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the Home he was to go to, when his time should come; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of his sister's angel gone before. <br /><br />There was a baby born to be a brother to the child; and while he was so little that he never yet had spoken word, he stretched his tiny form out on his bed, and died. <br /><br />Again the child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces. <br /><br />Said his sister's angel to the leader: <br /><br />"Is my brother come?" <br /><br />And he said "Not that one, but another." <br /><br />As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, "O, sister, I am here! Take me! "And she turned and smiled upon him, and the star was shining. <br /><br />He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him, and said: <br /><br />"Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son!" <br /><br />Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader: <br /><br />"Is my brother come?" <br /><br />And he said, "Thy mother!" <br /><br />A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-united to her two children. And he stretched out his arms and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!" And they answered him "Not yet," and the star was shining. <br /><br />He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning grey, and he was sitting in his chair by the �reside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the star opened once again. <br /><br />Said his sister's angel to the leader, "Is my brother come?" <br /><br />And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter." <br /><br />And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said "My daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is round my mother's neck, and at her feet there is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from her, GOD be praised!" <br /><br />And the star was shining. <br /><br />Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, as he had cried so long ago: <br /><br />"I see the star!" <br /><br />They whispered one another "He is dying." <br /><br />And he said, "I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move towards the star as a child. And O, my Father, now I thank thee that it has so often opened, to receive those dear ones who await me!" <br /><br />And the star was shining; and it shines upon his grave.