er had to say: "The building was crowded.... Every one who saw
Mr. Thackeray last evening for the first time seemed to have had
their impressions of his appearance and manner of speech corrected.
Few expected to see so large a man; he is gigantic; six feet four at
least; few expected to see so old a person; his hair appears to have
kept silvery record over fifty years; and then there was a notion in
the minds of many that there must be something dashing and 'fast' in
his appearance, whereas his costume was perfectly plain; the
expression of his face grave and earnest; his address perfectly
unaffected, and such as we might expect to meet with, in a well-bred
man somewhat advanced in years. His elocution also surprised those who
had derived their impressions from the English journals. His voice is
a superb tenor, and possesses that pathetic tremble which is so
effective in what is called emotive eloquence, while his delivery was
as well suited to the communication he had to make as could well have
been imagined.

"His enunciation is perfect. Every word he uttered might have been
heard in the remotest quarters of the room, yet he scarcely lifted his
voice above a colloquial tone. The most striking feature in his whole
manner was the utter absence of affectation of any kind. He did not
permit himself to appear conscious that he was an object of peculiar
interest in the audience, neither was he guilty of the greater error
of not appearing to care whether they were interested in him or not.
In other words, he inspired his audience with a respect for him, as a
man proportioned to the admiration, which his books have inspired for
him as an author."

From Philadelphia Thackeray writes: "Oh, I am tired of shaking hands
with people, and acting the lion business night after night.
Everybody is introduced and shakes hands. I know thousands of
colonels, professors, editors, and what not, and walk the streets
guiltily, knowing that I don't know 'em, and trembling lest the man
opposite to me is one of my friends of the day before. I believe I am
popular, except at Boston among the newspaper men who fired into me,
but a great favorite with the _monde_ there and elsewhere. Here in
Philadelphia it is all praise and kindness. Do you know there are
500,000 people in Philadelphia? I daresay you had no idea thereof, and
smile at the idea of there being a _monde_ here and at Boston and New
York.... I am writing this with a new gold pen, in s