listen. A master he certainly is; and the world has

not many.

"He has laid Steerforth solemnly dead upon the beach, taken his five-minutes' recess, come back with the rosebuds superseded by a large red carnation, engineered poor Mr. Sawyer satisfactorily through his party, and punctually at ten o'clock vanished- he and the two breathless, bright hours—like a beautiful dream from before us."

Of his last reading in Boston, "The Boston Transcript" thus speaks; and the account is inserted here with a vivid remembrance of the pleasure with which that evening was spent:

"THE FINAL READING. When Mr. Dickens came upon the stage last evening, to be greeted by a house as packed and as appreciative as that which welcomed his first appearance in this city, he found his table covered with floral offerings, rare and beautiful as they were abundant. He characteristically acknowledged this compliment by saying,—

"Before allowing Dr. 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.'

"The performance that followed was, or many fancied it was, given with more feeling, especially in the

pathetic portions, than on previous occasions. Be this as it may, it is certain that Cheap Jack, quaint, kindly, and tender, even in a sleeve-waistcoat, will ever be a reality now to those who have heard his autobiography from his own lips; and Mrs. Gamp will remain here, for a generation at least, as any thing but a model monthly

nurse.

"The prolonged and enthusiastic applause at the close of the reading compelled Mr. Dickens, as he was retiring, to turn and come back, and make this graceful and feeling speech:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, - My gracious and generous welcome in America, which can never be obliterated from my remembrance, began here. My departure begins here too; for I assure you that I have never until this moment really felt that I am going away. In this brief life of ours, it is sad to do almost any thing for the last time; and I cannot conceal from you, although my face will so soon be turned towards my native land, and to all that makes it dear, that it is a sad consideration with me, that, in a very few moments from this time, this brilliant hall and all that it contains will fade from my view forevermore. But it is my consolation, that the spirit of the bright faces, the quick perception, the ready response, the generous and the cheering sounds, that have made this place delightful to me, will remain ; and you may rely upon it, that that spirit will abide with me as long as I have sense and sentiment left.

"I do not say this with any limited reference to private friendships that have for years upon years made Boston a memorable and beloved spot to me; for such private references have no business in this public place. I say it purely in remembrance of and in homage to the great public heart before me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I beg most earnestly, most gratefully, and most affectionately, to bid you each and all farewell.'

"With heartiest rounds of applause, mingled with cheers, and waving of handkerchiefs, the great assembly bade adieu to Mr. Dickens, and gave expression to their thanks for the rich enjoyment he had afforded them. Thus ended a series of entertainments, of which it is enough to say that the expectations raised before they began have not been disappointed. The readings have proved to be all that was claimed for them; and for their peculiar characteristics, elaborateness, truthfulness, and finish, as impersonations, they have stood the test of criticism, and been occasions of delight to thousands.

"Mr. Dickens came to this country as an artist, and in a professional capacity, to present himself to the public as the reciter of his own stories. He has labored assiduously in his vocation; and his visit has proved an entire success. His interpretations of his writings will increase their already wonderful and deserved popularity, win to them multitudes of readers to be delighted

with their wit, characterizations, and pictures of life among the lowly. Meanwhile, on account of the humanity in his works, their appeals to every home and every heart, the man as well as the author will continue to be the object of warm regard, as one whose genius has been consecrated to the service of generous, liberal, and unostentatious philanthropy. He will not only be cherished as an unequalled humorist and a popular novelist, but he will also be held in honor as a genial reformer, and the advocate of the largest and truest fraternal charity."

The Dickens excitement was as strong in Philadelphia as it was elsewhere. The speculators mustered in force at eleven o'clock, P.M., to secure the tickets which were offered at nine the next morning.

Before leaving America, Mr. Dickens was entertained at a handsome banquet at Delmonico's, New York, on the evening of April 18, 1868; and, in responding to an eloquent speech from Mr. Greeley, the distinguished guest bore strong and honest testimony to the change which twenty-five years had wrought in his estimate of America. He said,

"This is the confidence I seek to place in you, that on my return to England, in my own English journal, manfully, promptly, plainly, in my own person to bear, for the behoof of my countrymen, such testimony to

the gigantic changes in this country as I have hinted at to-night. Also to recall, that wherever I have been, in the smallest places equally with the largest, I have been received with unsurpassable politeness, delicacy, sweet temper, hospitality, consideration, with unsurpassable respect for the privacy daily enforced upon me by the nature of my avocation here, and the state of my health.

"This testimony, so long as I live, and so long as my descendants have any legal right in my books, I shall cause to be republished as an appendix to every copy of those two books of mine in which I have referred to America. And this I will do, and cause to be done, not in my loving-thankfulness, but because I regard it as an act of plain justice and honor."

Taking leave of his last American audience, in New York, April 20, 1868, Mr. Dickens closed his reading with this touching speech:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, The shadow of one word has impended over me all the evening; and the time has come at last when that shadow must fall. It is but a very short one; but the weight of such things is not measured by their length: and two much shorter words express the whole realm of our human existence. When I was reading 'David Copperfield' here last Thursday night, I felt that there was more than usual significance for me in Mr. Peggotty's declamation, 'My future life