In 1854, Leech and his wife went to Boulogne to stay with Dickens. The day was stormy, and when the artist stepped ashore, he was received with cheers by a crowd of people, mostly English, who loudly congratulated him as looking more intensely miserable than any of the wretched passengers who had preceded him. Leech told Dickens that he had realized at last what an actor's feelings must be when a round of applause greets his efforts.
"I felt," he said, "that I had made a great hit."
My intimacy with Leech led to the usual exchange of hospitalities. I recall with pleasure the occasions on which I had the great delight of welcoming him at my house in London or at the seaside. He never varied from the simple, modest demeanour of the perfect gentleman, was never noisy or argumentative, and always considerate of the feelings of others; prodigal in his praise of his brother artists; never, if he could avoid it, speaking of himself or his works, but if, in course of conversation, allusion had been made to some cut more than commonly attractive, he would meet it with: "Glad you like it, my dear fellow; don't see anything particularly funny in it myself;" or, "Ah! I wish you could have seen it on the wood; they seem to me to have cut all the prettiness out of the girl's face."
The first time I dined with Leech was at his house in Notting Hill Terrace, on the occasion of some Highland sports that took place in Lord Holland's park hard by, out of which Leech made some capital sketches, that afterwards appeared in _Punch_. Leech's dinners, without being too lavish or extravagant, were always unexceptionable as to food, and notably so as to wine; of the latter, being no judge himself, he took care it should be supplied by "one who knew," and who was also reliable. One of the guests at this particular dinner was the Rev. Mr. White, whose acquaintance our host had made at the Isle of Wight. I mention this gentleman because he was not only a very jovial clergyman, but a great friend of Leech and Dickens, and the author of some plays which had more or less success--one of them, with the title of "The King of the Commons," was played under Phelps' management, and had a considerable run.