l several times, and said that nothing
could be more charming than Dickens's powers as a host. Some years after
his death, by a fortunate circumstance, a large parcel of letters,
written by the novelist, came into the hands of Mr. Whiston, who had the
pleasure of handing them to Miss Hogarth and Miss Dickens, by whom they
were published in the collection of letters of Charles Dickens.

* * * * *

Thomas Millen of Rochester informed us that he knew Charles Dickens. His
(Millen's) father was a hop-farmer, and about the years 1864-5 lived at
Bridgewood House, on the main road from Rochester to Maidstone. One
afternoon in the autumn, Dickens, accompanied by Miss Hogarth and his
daughters, Mary and Kate, drove along the road, and stopped to admire a
pear tree which was covered with ripe fruit. Millen happened to be in
the garden at the time, and while noticing the carriage, Dickens spoke
to him, and referred to the very fine fruit. Millen said, "Will you
have some, sir?" to which Dickens replied, "Thank you, you are very
good, I will." He gave him some pears and some roses. Dickens then said,
"You have not the pleasure of knowing me, and I have not the pleasure of
knowing you. I am Charles Dickens; and when you pass Gad's Hill, I shall
take it as a favour if you will look in and see my place." Millen
replied, "I feel it to be a great honour to speak to you, sir. I have
read most of your works, and I think _David Copperfield_ is the
master-piece. I hope to avail myself of your kind invitation some day."
Dickens laughed, wished Millen "Good-day," and the carriage drove on
towards Maidstone.

"Some little time after," said Millen, "I was going to visit an uncle at
Gravesend, and drove over with a one-horse trap by way of Gad's Hill. As
I came near the place, I saw Mr. Dickens in the road. He said, 'So you
are here,' and I mentioned where I was going. He took me in, and we went
through the tunnel, and by the cedars, to the chalet, which stood in the
shrubbery in front of the house. He showed me his work there--a
manuscript on the table, and also some proofs. They were part of _Our
Mutual Friend_, which was then appearing in monthly numbers; and on that
morning a proof of one of the illustrations had arrived from Mr. Marcus
Stone. It was the one in which 'Miss Wren fixes her idea.' I was then
about sixteen or seventeen, and Dickens said, 'You are setting out in
life; mind _you_ always fix your ide