His readings everywhere were crowned with enthusiastic success, and if his strength had been equal to his will, he could have stayed in America another year, and occupied every night of it with his wonderful impersonations.  I regretted extremely that he felt obliged to give up visiting the West.  Invitations which greatly pleased him came day after day from the principal cities and towns, but his friends soon discovered that his health would not allow him to extend his travels beyond Washington.

He sailed for home on the 19th of April, 1868, and we shook hands with him on the deck of the Russia as the good ship turned her prow toward England.  He was in great spirits at the thought of so soon again seeing Gad’s Hill, and the prospect of a rest after all his toilsome days and nights in America.  While at sea he wrote the following letter to me:—­

    Aboard The Russia, Bound For Liverpool, Sunday, 26th April, 1868.

My Dear Fields:  In order that you may have the earliest intelligence of me, I begin this note to-day in my small cabin, purposing (if it should prove practicable) to post it at Queenstown for the return steamer.

We are already past the Banks of Newfoundland, although our course was seventy miles to the south, with the view of avoiding ice seen by Judkins in the Scotia on his passage out to New York.  The Russia is a magnificent ship, and has dashed along bravely.  We had made more than thirteen hundred and odd miles at, noon to-day.  The wind, after being a little capricious, rather threatens at the present time to turn against us, but our run is already eighty miles ahead of the Russia’s last run in this direction,—­a very fast one. ...To all whom it may concern, report the Russia in the highest terms.  She rolls more easily than the other Cunard Screws, is kept in perfect order, and is most carefully looked after in all departments.  We have had nothing approaching to heavy weather; still, one can speak to the trim of the ship.  Her captain, a gentleman; bright, polite, good-natured, and vigilant.....

As to me, I am greatly better, I hope.  I have got on my right boot to-day for the first time; the “true American” seems to be turning faithless at last; and I made a Gad’s Hill breakfast this morning, as a further advance on having otherwise eaten and drunk all day ever since Wednesday.

You will see Anthony Trollope, I dare say.  What was my amazement to see him with these eyes come aboard in the mail tender just before we started!  He had come out in the Scotia just in time to dash off again in said tender to shake hands with me, knowing me to be aboard here.  It was most heartily done.  He is on a special mission of convention with the United States post-office.

We have been picturing your movements, and have duly checked off your journey home, and have talked about you continually.  But I have