merica by the strongest social affections, and
otherwise in all respects an honourable, high-minded, upright judge.
"You have been very tender," wrote Lord Jeffrey, "to our sensitive
friends beyond sea, and my whole heart goes along with every word you
have written. I think that you have perfectly accomplished all that you
profess or undertake to do, and that the world has never yet seen a more
faithful, graphic, amusing, kind-hearted narrative."

* * * * *

I permit myself so far to anticipate a later page as to print here a
brief extract from one of the letters of the last American visit.
Without impairing the interest with which the narrative of that time
will be read in its proper place, I shall thus indicate the extent to
which present impressions were modified by the experience of twenty-six
years later. He is writing from Philadelphia on the fourteenth of
January, 1868.

"I see _great changes_ for the better, socially. Politically, no.
England governed by the Marylebone vestry and the penny papers, and
England as she would be after years of such governing; is what I make of
_that_. Socially, the change in manners is remarkable. There is much
greater politeness and forbearance in all ways. . . . On the other hand
there are still provincial oddities wonderfully quizzical; and the
newspapers are constantly expressing the popular amazement at 'Mr.
Dickens's extraordinary composure.' They seem to take it ill that I
don't stagger on to the platform overpowered by the spectacle before me,
and the national greatness. They are all so accustomed to do public
things with a flourish of trumpets, that the notion of my coming in to
read without somebody first flying up and delivering an 'Oration' about
me, and flying down again and leading me in, is so very unaccountable to
them, that sometimes they have no idea until I open my lips that it can
possibly be Charles Dickens."

FOOTNOTES:

[63] "Cant as we may, and as we shall to the end of all things, it is
very much harder for the poor to be virtuous than it is for the rich;
and the good that is in them, shines the brighter for it. In many a
noble mansion lives a man, the best of husbands and of fathers, whose
private worth in both capacities is justly lauded to the skies. But
bring him here, upon this crowded deck. Strip from his fair young wife
her silken dress and jewels, unbind her braided hair, stamp early
wrinkles on her brow, pinch he