Dickens presented his Royal Mistress with a
handsome set of all his works, and, on the very morning of his death, a
letter reached Gad's Hill, written by Mr. Arthur Helps, by her desire,
acknowledging the present, and describing the exact position the books
occupied at Balmoral--so placed that she could see them before her when
occupying the usual seat in her sitting-room. When this letter arrived,
Mr. Dickens was still alive, but wholly unconscious. What to him, at
that time, was the courtesy of an earthly sovereign?" I repeat that the
only morsel of truth in all this rigmarole is that the books were sent
by Dickens, and acknowledged by Mr. Helps at the Queen's desire. The
letter did not arrive on the day of his death, the 9th of June, but was
dated from Balmoral on that day.

[300] The book was thus entered in the catalogue. "DICKENS (C.), A
CHRISTMAS CAROL, in prose, 1843; _Presentation Copy_, inscribed '_W. M.
Thackeray, from Charles Dickens (whom he made very happy once a long way
from home_).'" Some pleasant verses by his friend had affected him much
while abroad. I quote the Life of Dickens published by Mr. Hotten. "Her
Majesty expressed the strongest desire to possess this presentation
copy, and sent an unlimited commission to buy it. The original published
price of the book was 5_s._ It became Her Majesty's property for L25
10_s._, and was at once taken to the palace."

[301] "In Memoriam" by Arthur Helps, in _Macmillan's Magazine_ for July
1870.

[302] An entry, under the date of July 1833, from a printed but
unpublished Diary by Mr. Payne Collier, appeared lately in the
_Athenaeum_, having reference to Dickens at the time when he first
obtained employment as a reporter, and connecting itself with what my
opening volume had related of those childish sufferings. "Soon
afterwards I observed a great difference in C. D.'s dress, for he had
bought a new hat and a very handsome blue cloak, which he threw over his
shoulder _a l' Espagnole_. . . . We walked together through Hungerford
Market, where we followed a coal-heaver, who carried his little rosy but
grimy child looking over his shoulder; and C. D. bought a
halfpenny-worth of cherries, and as we went along he gave them one by
one to the little fellow without the knowledge of the father. . . . He
informed me as we walked through it that he knew Hungerford Market
well. . . . He did not affect to conceal the difficulties he and his family
had had to contend aga