nal welcome; he stammered in his
speeches, hid himself in confusion, and the people loved him all the
better. He had worthily represented America in Europe. In that young
community a man who brings home with him abundant European testimonials
is still treated with respect (I have found American writers, of
wide-world reputation, strangely solicitous about the opinions of quite
obscure British critics, and elated or depressed by their judgments);
and Irving went home medalled by the King, diplomatized by the
University, crowned and honored and admired. He had not in any way
intrigued for his honors, he had fairly won them; and, in Irving's
instance, as in others, the old country was glad and eager to pay them.

In America the love and regard for Irving was a national sentiment.
Party wars are perpetually raging there, and are carried on by the press
with a rancor and fierceness against individuals which exceed British,
almost Irish, virulence. It seemed to me, during a year's travel in the
country, as if no one ever aimed a blow at Irving. All men held their
hand from that harmless, friendly peacemaker. I had the good fortune
to see him at New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington,* and
remarked how in every place he was honored and welcome. Every large city
has its "Irving House." The country takes pride in the fame of its men
of letters. The gate of his own charming little domain on the beautiful
Hudson River was for ever swinging before visitors who came to him.
He shut out no one.** I had seen many pictures of his house, and read
descriptions of it, in both of which it was treated with a not unusual
American exaggeration. It was but a pretty little cabin of a place; the
gentleman of the press who took notes of the place, whilst his kind old
host was sleeping, might have visited the whole house in a couple of
minutes.

* At Washington, Mr. Irving came to a lecture given by the
writer, which Mr. Filmore and General Pierce, the President
and President Elect, were also kind enough to attend
together. "Two Kings of Brentford smelling at one rose,"
says Irving, looking up with his good-humored smile.

** Mr. Irving described to me, with that humor and good-
humor which he always kept, how, amongst other visitors, a
member of the British press who had carried his
distinguished pen to America (where he employed it in
vilifying his own country) came to Sunnyside, i