And there was one other aspect of his moral nature, of which I am reminded by an observation which Mr. Forster records as having been made by Mrs. Carlyle.  “Light and motion flashed from every part of it [his face].  It was as if made of steel.”  The first part of the phrase is true and graphic enough, but the image offered by the last words appears to me a singularly infelicitous one.  There was nothing of the hardness or of the (moral) sharpness of steel about the expression of Dickens’s face and features.  Kindling mirth and genial fun were the expressions which those who casually met him in society were habituated to find there, but those who knew him well knew also well that a tenderness, gentle and sympathetic as that of a woman, was a mood that his surely never “steely” face could express exquisitely, and did express frequently.

I used to see him very frequently in his latter years.  I generally came to London in the summer, and one of the first things on my list was a visit to 20, Wellington Street.  Then would follow sundry other visits and meetings—­to Tavistock House, to Gadshill, at Verey’s in Regent Street, a place he much patronised, &c., &c.  I remember one day meeting Chauncy Hare Townsend at Tavistock House and thinking him a very singular and not particularly agreeable man.  Edwin Landseer I remember dined there the same day.  But he had been a friend of my mother’s, and was my acquaintance of long long years before.

Of course we had much and frequent talk about Italy, and I may say that our ideas and opinions, and especially feelings on that subject, were always, I think, in unison.  Our agreement respecting English social and political matters was less perfect.  But I think that it would have become more nearly so had his life been prolonged as mine has been.  And the approximation would, if I am not much mistaken, have been brought about by a movement of mind on his part, which already I think those who knew him best will agree with me in thinking had commenced.  We differed on many points of politics.  But there is one department of English social life—­one with which I am probably more intimately acquainted than with any other, and which has always been to me one of much interest—­our public school system, respecting which our agreement was complete.  And I cannot refrain from quoting.  The opinion which he expresses is as true as if he had, like me, an eight years’ experience of the system he is speaking of.  And the passage, which I am about to give, is very remarkable as an instance of the singular acumen, insight, and power of sympathy which enabled him to form so accurately correct an opinion on a matter of which he might be supposed to know nothing.