rogress
when he learned by chance that Prescott, who had recently made a name
for himself by his "Ferdinand and Isabella," was at work upon the
same subject. Irving immediately retired from the field, and conveyed
a courteous assurance to Prescott of his satisfaction in leaving the
theme to such hands. He felt this sacrifice keenly, however; the
project had appealed to him peculiarly, and he had no other in mind to
take its place. For lack of other literary work, therefore, he
presently engaged to write a monthly article for the New York
"Knickerbocker," at a salary of $2000 a year. The arrangement was just
not too irksome to continue for two years.

It is easy to see, then, that at fifty-five Irving was pretty well
written out. In the twenty years that remained to him he produced
nothing of account except the "Life of Washington," which, like his
other works in biography and history, may be regarded as a _tour de
force_ rather than a spontaneous outcome of his genius.

V

A PUBLIC CHARACTER

The data of Irving's literary achievements have been brought near a
conclusion; what remains to be said may now deal less with what he
wrote, and more with what he did and was. It is luckily unnecessary to
try for a sharply drawn distinction between his popularity as a writer
and as a man. In his home, in society, and in literature the single
charm of his personality had made him beloved in the same way. And he
had become, in the best sense of the term, a public character. For
many years his name had been better known abroad than that of any
other living American; and his reception at home after an absence of
seventeen years showed in what regard his countrymen had come to hold
him. Their pride in his success and gratitude for the new fame he had
given a country which was still felt to be on probation, can hardly
account for it; only the confidence of affection could have excused so
prolonged an absenteeism.

His peculiar hold upon popular affection cannot be better suggested
than by the tone of a letter written by the only Englishman who during
Irving's life could pretend to rival him in his peculiar field. In
1841, Irving wrote to Dickens, expressing pleasure in his work.
Dickens replied: "There is no man in the world who could have given me
the heartfelt pleasure you have, by your kind note of the 13th of last
month. There is no living writer, and there are very few among the
dead, whose approbation I should feel