not faced his audience five minutes before, as usual, his powers returned to him. Before him was one of the most brilliant scenes he had ever witnessed at his readings. Unknown hands had gained possession of the hall, and decorated it with most costly flowers. The audience included the President and his family, Ambassadors, Secretaries of State, Judges of the Supreme Court, naval and military authorities in full uniform, and every notability in Washington, with a perfect bevy of ladies whose toilettes resembled those of a State ball, or of a grand night at the opera. When the reading closed with 'Boots at the Holly Tree,' all the company rose and cheered, the ladies throwing their bouquets to the reader, and the gentlemen the "buttonhole" flowers out of their coats. Dickens returned and made them a little speech of grateful acknowledgment. Two days after, Sunday, the 9th of February, he left Washington, full of regrets at parting with so many kind friends.
Then followed the farewells at Boston, but Dickens was too ill to enjoy all the affection showered upon him. The Fields were all and everything to him during his illness, and their genial society did much to make him forget his sufferings. Dolby would steal into his room at all hours of the night, always to find him wide awake and as jovial as circumstances would permit; never in the least complaining, only reproaching Dolby for not taking his own night's rest. Dickens wrote home:
"Dolby is as tender as a woman, and as watchful as a doctor. He never leaves me during the reading, now, but sits at the side of the platform, and keeps his eye on me all the time."
On Friday afternoon, the 3rd of April, took place the last but one of the Boston farewell readings. Dickens was so prostrate that it seemed impossible he could carry out his undertaking, and the bad news spread; but when, later on, it became known that, nevertheless, the reading would be given, some ladies got privately into the hall and decorated his table with the choicest of flowers and exotics. Dickens, full of appreciation of this unexpected kindness, said:—
"Ladies and gentlemen, before allowing Doctor Marigold to tell his story in his own peculiar way, I kiss the kind fair hands unknown which have so beautifully decorated my table this evening."
On Saturday, the 18th of April, a farewell banquet was given to him by the American Press. Again he was so ill that it seemed impossible he should be present, yet at the appointed hour, leaning on the arm of Horace Greeley, he took his place at the table. More than two hundred persons were present, and it was said to be the largest assemblage of newspaper men ever seen in America. In his speech thanking his kind entertainers he said:—
"To the wholesome training of se ere newspaper-work when I was a very young man, I constantly refer my first successes; and my sons will hereafter testify of their father, that he was always steadily proud of that ladder by which he rose."
He also promised that no copy of his 'American Notes' or 'Chuzzlewit' should in future be issued by him without accompanying mention of the changes that had been wrought in America during the past twenty-five years—the rise of vast new cities; growth in the graces and amenities of life; much improvement in the press, essential to every other advance; as well as changes in himself, leading to opinions more deliberately formed.
"This I will do, or cause to be done, not in mere love and thankfulness, but because I regard it as an act of plain justice and honour."
In concluding, Dickens said:—
"Broadcast in England is sown the sentiment that the English and American people are essentially one, and that it rests with them jointly to uphold the great Saxon race and all its great achievements before the world; and if I know anything of Englishmen—and they give me credit for knowing something—the English heart is stirred by the flutter of those Stars and Stripes as it is stirred by no other flag that flies, except its own."
On the following Monday the 'Christmas Carol' and the trial from 'Pickwick' were given for the last time in America. In bidding his audience of two thousand farewell, he said: " When I was reading 'David Copperfield' a few evenings since, I felt there was more than usual significance in the words of Peggotty, 'my future life lies over the sea'"; but he went on to assure them that when he thought of them, whether by his winter fireside or in the green English summer weather, it would) never be merely as a public audience—he would regard them as a host of personal friends. "God bless you," he said, "and God bless the land in which I leave you." Two days later, he sailed for England in the Russia. The Farewell tug-boat screamed the note of warning; all left save Fields. The friends seemed as if they could not part. "Boz" held the hand of Fields within his own; there was an unmistakable look in both faces—in a moment they were locked in each other's arms.
