Talking of Washington Irving. I take it for granted,
good reader, that you have never encountered him ; for be it
known, except in the elevated circle where he moves and shines,
he is one who loves not to be ^ seen of men.' He hates your



OLLAPODIANA. 149

poindngs-out in the streets, and greetings in the markets : these he
leaves to be struggled after, with painful yearnings, by the flimsy
firy which injudicious friends would inflate to his capacity and
standard. It is a year ago since I had the pleasure of repeating
the pleasure of discernment and intercourse with this genial, af-
fectionate, and noble man. I have for Irvixg — and I am will-
ing to confess it — a kind of love. His veracious books, com-
prising the History of New York, have created more risibility
under my waistcoat, than any volumes from the past or of the
present. I read them regularly once a year. There is about
them such a transparent flow of wit — such glorious satire — such
happiness of expression — such more-than-meets-the-eye phra-
ses — that, take them up when and where I will, they violate my
sobriety, and seduce me into a hearty guffaw. As Geoffrey Cray-
on^ I am charmed with him ; as an historian, I honor him ; as a
patriot and a gentleman, I thoroughly revere him. What a style
is his ! None of your shallow tinsel, your unnatural emblems,
your forced conceits, your windy tropes : all is truth, gentleness,
nature.' God bless the gentleman ! Well, as I was saying, 't is
now about a year since I saw him last. It was a bridal scene.
