1842. and tendering to him their warmest hospitalities. BALTIMORE: He was at Baltimore when he closed his letter. BALTIMORE, Tuesday, March 22nd. C. D. to J. F. “I have a great diffidence in running counter "to any impression formed by a man of Maclise's "genius, on a subject he has fully considered." (Referring apparently to some remark by myself on the picture of the Play-scene in Hamlet, exhibited this year.) "But I quite agree with you, "about the King in Hamlet. Talking of Hamlet, "I constantly carry in my great-coat pocket the "Shakespeare you bought for me in Liverpool. My gift of "What an unspeakable source of delight that "book is to me! Shakespeare. "Your Ontario letter, I found here to-night: "sent on by the vigilant and faithful Colden, who "makes every thing having reference to us, or "our affairs, a labour of the heartiest love. We "devoured its contents, greedily. Good Heaven, "my dear fellow, how I miss you! and how I count "the time 'twixt this and coming home again. "Shall I ever forget the day of our parting at Letters from "Liverpool! when even became jolly and "radiant in his sympathy with our separation! "Never, never shall I forget that time. Ah! how "seriously I thought then, and how seriously I home. BALTIMORE: "have thought many, many times since, of the 1842. "terrible folly of ever quarrelling with a true C. D. to J. F. of a noble nature. "friend, on good for nothing trifles! Every little "hasty word that has ever passed between us, Self-reproach "rose up before me like a reproachful ghost. "At this great distance, I seem to look back upon "any miserable small interruption of our affec"tionate intercourse, though only for the instant "it has never outlived, with a sort of pity for my"self as if I were another creature. "I have bought another accordion. The steward "lent me one, on the passage out, and I regaled "the ladies' cabin with my performances. You "can't think with what feeling I play Home Sweet "Home every night, or how pleasantly sad it makes And so God bless you. . . . I leave "space for a short postscript before sealing this, "but it will probably contain nothing. The dear, "dear children! what a happiness it is to know "that they are in such hands. 66 us. "P.S. Twenty-third March, 1842. Nothing "new. And all well. I have not heard that the "Columbia is in, but she is hourly expected. "Washington Irving has come on for another "leave-taking, and dines with me to-day. We At his second visit to America, when in Washington * 1842. C. D. "start for the West, at half after eight to-morrow BALTIMORE: "morning. I send you a newspaper, the most "respectable in the States, with a very just copy"right article." to J. F. in February 1868, Dickens, replying to a letter in which Irving was named, thus describes the last meeting and leavetaking to which he alludes above. "Your reference to my "dear friend, Washington Irving, renews the vivid impres- Washington Irving's "sions reawakened in my mind at Baltimore but the other leave-taking. "day. I saw his fine face for the last time in that city. He "came there from New York to pass a day or two with me "before I went westward; and they were made among the "most memorable of my life by his delightful fancy and "genial humor. Some unknown admirer of his books and "mine sent to the hotel a most enormous mint-julep, wreathed "with flowers. We sat, one on either side of it, with great "solemnity (it filled a respectably-sized round table), but the "solemnity was of very short duration. It was quite an en "chanted julep, and carried us among innumerable people "and places that we both knew. The julep held out far "into the night, and my memory never saw him afterwards "otherwise than as bending over it, with his straw, with an "attempted air of gravity (after some anecdote involving "some wonderfully droll and delicate observation of character), "and then, as his eye caught mine, melting into that capti"vating laugh of his, which was the brightest and best I "have ever heard." AMERICA: 1842. the letters. CHAPTER XXII. CANAL BOAT JOURNEYS: BOUND FAR WEST. 1842. It would not be possible that a more vivid or Character in exact impression, than that which is derivable from these letters, could be given of either the genius or the character of the writer. The whole man is here in the supreme hour of his life, and in all the enjoyment of its highest sensations. Inexpressibly sad to me has been the task of going over them, but the surprise has equalled the sadness. I had forgotten what was in them. That they contained, in their first vividness, all the most prominent descriptions of his published book, I knew. But the reproduction of any part of these was not permissible here; and believing that the substance of them had been thus almost wholly embodied in the American Notes, when they were lent to assist in its composition, I turned to them with very small expectation of finding anything available for present use. Yet the difficulty has 1842. satisfactory. been, not to find but to reject; and the rejection AMERICA: when most unavoidable has not been most easy. Even where the subjects recur that are in the The Notes less printed volume, there is a freshness of first impressions in the letters that renders it no small trial to act strictly on the rule adhered to in these extracts from them. In the Notes there is of course very much, masterly in observation and description, of which there is elsewhere no trace; but the passages amplified from the letters have not been improved, and the manly force and directness of some of their views and reflections, conveyed by touches of a picturesque completeness that no elaboration could give, have here and there not been strengthened by rhetorical additions in the printed work. There is also a charm in the letters which the plan adopted in A charm in the book necessarily excluded from it. It will cluded from always of course have value as a deliberate expression of the results gathered from the American experiences, but the personal narrative of this famous visit to America is in the letters alone. In what way his experiences arose, the desire at the outset to see nothing that was not favourable, the slowness with which adverse impressions were formed, and the eager recognition of every truth- them. ful and noble quality that arose and remained letters ex Notes. Personal narrative in |