titude the warped order of things," found an echo in our hearts. He was a complete success. He was as delightful as his own literary personages are, and so "like his writings" that every one spoke of it. His allusions, his voice, his looks, were all just what we had expected. Never did a long-hoped-for hero fill the bill so thoroughly. His loving and life-giving genius spoke in every word. Wonderful examples of excellence those papers on "The Four Georges," and delivered in a clear, fine, rich voice. Their simplicity was matchless, and the fun in him came out as he described the fourth George, and then stopped, not smiling himself, while we all laughed. He silently stood, his head tipped back, and then calmly wiped his spectacles and went on. He had a charm as a speaker which no one has since caught: it defies analysis, as does his genius. It was Thackerayian.
I think that I heard then that he was more widely read in America than in England; he was certainly treated with great hospitality. The Century Club (then wholly made up of authors, artists, and actors) was pronounced by him the "best club in the world." He was allowed the fullest liberty there; and as he was a man of moods, and his mood was sometimes silence, he was glad of a corner where he could sit unobserved. Fitz-Greene Halleck, who wrote "Green be the turf above thee!" and "At midnight in her guarded tent," entertained him; and Hackett, the comedian, and Sparrowgrass Cozzens and Willis and Bryant and Cooper were all of this party. While in Boston James T. Field, most admirable of friends, took that care of him which his genial nature suggested. Washington Irving and Bayard Taylor were also here then to greet him.
I saw him several times during his later visit in 1855, and in the company of Miss Sallie Baxter, who was the
