ore him. That the old
hero enjoyed it all, there could be no doubt, and he made no secret of
his delight in "Young Hernandez;" but the "Battle" was undeniably
tedious, and it was impossible not to sympathize with the repeatedly and
very audibly expressed wish of Talfourd, that "the Prussians would come
up!"

The preceding month was that of the start of _David Copperfield_, and to
one more dinner (on the 12th) I may especially refer for those who were
present at it. Carlyle and Mrs. Carlyle came, Thackeray and Rogers, Mrs.
Gaskell and Kenyon, Jerrold and Hablot Browne, with Mr. and Mrs. Tagart;
and it was a delight to see the enjoyment of Dickens at Carlyle's
laughing reply to questions about his health, that he was, in the
language of Mr. Peggotty's housekeeper, a lorn lone creature and
everything went contrairy with him. Things were not likely to go better,
I thought, as I saw the great writer,--kindest as well as wisest of men,
but not very patient under sentimental philosophies,--seated next the
good Mr. Tagart, who soon was heard launching at him various
metaphysical questions in regard to heaven and such like; and the relief
was great when Thackeray introduced, with quaint whimsicality, a story
which he and I had heard Macready relate in talking to us about his
boyish days, of a country actor who had supported himself for six months
on his judicious treatment of the "tag" to the _Castle Spectre_. In the
original it stands that you are to do away with suspicion, banish vile
mistrust, and, almost in the words we had just heard from the minister
to the philosopher, "Believe there is a Heaven nor Doubt that Heaven is
just!" in place of which Macready's friend, observing that the drop fell
for the most part quite coldly, substituted one night the more telling
appeal, "And give us your Applause, for _that_ is ALWAYS JUST!" which
brought down the house with rapture.

This chapter would far outrun its limits if I spoke of other as pleasant
gatherings under Dickens's roof during the years which I am now more
particularly describing; when, besides the dinners, the musical
enjoyments and dancings, as his children became able to take part in
them, were incessant. "Remember that for my Biography!" he said to me
gravely on twelfth-day in 1849, after telling me what he had done the
night before; and as gravely I now redeem my laughing promise that I
would. Little Mary and her sister Kate had taken much pains to teach
their fath