box, and heard him joke with old President Quincy.  Was there ever such a night before in our staid city?  Did ever mortal preside with such felicitous success as did Mr. Quincy?  How he went on with his delicious compliments to our guest!  How he revelled in quotations from “Pickwick” and “Oliver Twist” and “The Curiosity Shop”!  And how admirably he closed his speech of welcome, calling up the young author amid a perfect volley of applause!  “Health, Happiness, and a Hearty Welcome to Charles Dickens.”  I can see and hear Mr. Quincy now, as he spoke the words.  Were ever heard such cheers before?  And when Dickens stood up at last to answer for himself, so fresh and so handsome, with his beautiful eyes moist with feeling, and his whole frame aglow with excitement, how we did hurrah, we young fellows!  Trust me, it was a great night; and we must have made a mighty noise at our end of the table, for I remember frequent messages came down to us from the “Chair,” begging that we would hold up a little and moderate if possible the rapture of our applause.

After Dickens left Boston he went on his American travels, gathering up materials, as he journeyed, for his “American Notes.”  He was accompanied as far as New York by a very dear friend, to whom he afterwards addressed several most interesting letters.  For that friend he always had the warmest enthusiasm; and when he came the second time to America, there was no one of his old companions whom he missed more.  Let us read some of these letters written by Dickens nearly thirty years ago.  The friend to whom they were addressed was also an intimate and dear associate of mine, and his children have kindly placed at my disposal the whole correspondence.  Here is the first letter, time-stained, but preserved with religious care.

    Fuller’s Hotel, Washington, Monday, March 14, 1842.

My Dear Felton:  I was more delighted than I can possibly tell you to receive (last Saturday night) your welcome letter.  We and the oysters missed you terribly in New York.  You carried away with you more than half the delight and pleasure of my New World; and I heartily wish you could bring it back again.

There are very interesting men in this place,—­highly interesting, of course,—­but it’s not a comfortable place; is it?  If spittle could wait at table we should be nobly attended, but as that property has not been imparted to it in the present state of mechanical science, we are rather lonely and orphan-like, in respect of “being looked arter.”  A blithe black was introduced on our arrival, as our peculiar and especial attendant.  He is the only gentleman in the town who has a peculiar delicacy in intruding upon my valuable time.  It usually takes seven rings and a threatening message from ——­ to produce him; and when he comes he goes to fetch something, and, forgetting it by the way, comes back no more.

We have been in great distress, really