"From among all my treasures--to each one of which some pleasant history is bound--I choose this letter, written on coarse blue paper. The letter was received in answer to cigars sent from America to Mr. Dickens. The 'little public affairs at home' refers to the war of the Rebellion. At Colchester, he read 'The Trial' from 'Pickwick,' and selections from 'Nicholas Nickleby.' The lady, her two sisters, and her brother were Mr. Dickens's guests at the queer old English inn at Colchester. Through the softly falling snow we came back together to London, and on the railway platform parted, with a hearty hand-shaking, from the man who will for ever be enshrined in our hearts as the kindest and most generous, not to say most brilliant of hosts." [Sidenote: M. de Cerjat.] 16, HYDE PARK GATE, SOUTH KENSINGTON GORE, _Sunday, March 16th, 1862._ MY DEAR CERJAT, My daughter naturally liking to be in town at this time of year, I have changed houses with a friend for three months. My eldest boy is in business as an Eastern merchant in the City, and will do well if he can find continuous energy; otherwise not. My second boy is with the 42nd Highlanders in India. My third boy, a good steady fellow, is educating expressly for engineers or artillery. My fourth (this sounds like a charade), a born little sailor, is a midshipman in H.M.S. _Orlando_, now at Bermuda, and will make his way anywhere. Remaining two at school, elder of said remaining two very bright and clever. Georgina and Mary keeping house for me; and Francis Jeffrey (I ought to have counted him as the third boy, so we'll take him in here as number two and a half) in my office at present. Now you have the family bill of fare. You ask me about Fechter and his Hamlet. It was a performance of extraordinary merit; by far the most coherent, consistent, and intelligible Hamlet I ever saw. Some of the delicacies with which he rendered his conception clear were extremely subtle; and in particular he avoided that brutality towards Ophelia which, with a greater or less amount of coarseness, I have seen in all other Hamlets. As a mere _tour de force_, it would have been very remarkable in its disclosure of a perfectly wonderful knowledge of the force of the English language; but its merit was far beyond and above this. Foreign accent, of course, but not at all a disagreeable one. And he was so obviously safe and at ease, that you were never in pain for him as a foreigner. Add to this a perfectly picturesque and romantic "make up," and a remorseless destruction of all conventionalities, and you have the leading virtues of the impersonation. In Othello he did not succeed. In Iago he is very good. He is an admirable artist, and far beyond anyone on our stage. A real artist and a gentleman.