drawing-room when Thackeray was announced, and I introduced the two
famous but totally dissimilar men to each other. Thackeray was a man of
powerful build and a very direct manner, but to my mind was not an
individual to be overpowered by sentiment. I can not remember after the
flight of so many years the nature of the conversation between Irving
and Thackeray apart from the mutual interchange that ordinarily passes
between strangers when casually presented.

Later I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Thackeray quite a number of
times during his sojourn in Washington where he was much lionized in
society. One evening we were all gathered around the family tea table
when he chanced to call and join us in that cup which is said to cheer.
He entered into conversation with much enthusiasm, especially when he
referred to his children. He seemed to have a special admiration for a
young daughter of his, and related many pleasing anecdotes of her
juvenile aptitude. I think he referred to Anne Isabella Thackeray (Lady
Richie), who gave to the public a biographical edition of her father's
famous works. I remember we drifted into a conversation upon a recently
published novel, but the title of the book and its author I do not
recall. At any rate, he was discussing its heroine, who, under some
extraordinary stress of circumstances, was forced to walk many miles in
her stocking-feet to obtain succor, and the whole story was thrilling in
the extreme; whereupon the author of "Vanity Fair" exclaimed, "She was
shoeicidal." Although he was an Englishman, he was not averse to a
pun--even a poor one! I remember asking Mr. Thackeray whether during his
visit to New York he had met Mrs. De Witt Clinton. His response was
characteristic: "Yes, and she is a gay old girl!"

James K. Paulding, the distinguished author who married the sister of
Gouverneur and William Kemble and lived at Hyde Park, farther up the
Hudson, frequently formed one of the pleasant coterie that gathered
around "Uncle Gouv's" board. "The Sage of Lindenwald," as ex-President
Martin Van Buren was frequently called by both friend and foe, also
repeatedly came from his home in Kinderhook to dine with Mr. Kemble, and
these memories call to mind a dinner I attended at "Uncle Gouv's" when
Mr. Van Buren was the principal guest. Although it was many years after
his retirement from the presidential office, the impression he made upon
me was that of a quiet, deliberate old gentleman, wh