hours of trial.  The Reverend Mr. Voysey, whose fearless rationalism can hardly give him popularity among the conservative people I saw most of, paid me the compliment of calling, as he had often done of sending me his published papers.  Now and then some less known correspondent would reveal himself or herself in bodily presence.  Let most authors beware of showing themselves to those who have idealized them, and let readers not be too anxious to see in the flesh those whom they have idealized.  When I was a boy, I read Miss Edgeworth’s “L’Amie Inconnue.”  I have learned to appreciate its meaning in later years by abundant experiences, and I have often felt unwilling to substitute my real for my imaginary presence.  I will add here that I must have met a considerable number of persons, in the crowd at our reception and elsewhere, whose names I failed to hear, and whom I consequently did not recognize as the authors of books I had read, or of letters I had received.  The story of my experience with the lark accounts for a good deal of what seemed like negligence or forgetfulness, and which must be, not pardoned, but sighed over.

I visited several of the well-known clubs, either by special invitation, or accompanied by a member.  The Athenaeum was particularly attentive, but I was unable to avail myself of the privileges it laid freely open before me during my stay in London.  Other clubs I looked in upon were:  the Reform Club, where I had the pleasure of dining at a large party given by the very distinguished Dr. Morell Mackenzie; the Rabelais, of which, as I before related, I have been long a member, and which was one of the first places where I dined; the Saville; the Savage; the St. George’s.  I saw next to nothing of the proper club-life of London, but it seemed to me that the Athenaeum must be a very desirable place of resort to the educated Londoner, and no doubt each of the many institutions of this kind with which London abounds has its special attractions.

My obligations to my brethren of the medical profession are too numerous to be mentioned in detail.  Almost the first visit I paid was one to my old friend and fellow-student in Paris, Dr. Walter Hayle Walshe.  After more than half a century’s separation, two young friends, now old friends, must not expect to find each other just the same as when they parted.  Dr. Walshe thought he should have known me; my eyes are not so good as his, and I would not answer for them and for my memory.  That he should have dedicated his recent original and ingenious work to me, before I had thought of visiting England, was a most gratifying circumstance.  I have mentioned the hospitalities extended to me by various distinguished members of the medical profession, but I have not before referred to the readiness with which, on all occasions, when professional advice was needed, it was always given with more than willingness, rather as if it were a pleasure to give it.  I could not have accepted