The Sun.
London, England, 1867-12-31 00:00:00

THE SUN, LONDON, TUESDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 31, 1867.

DICKENS IN NETV YORK.

(From the Nation.)

Doubtless there is something of a disappointment
in store for a great many of the people who are
going to hear Mr. Dickens read. To him and his
celebrated readings we have all been paying the
compliment—natural to human nature to pay—of
thinking him to be more impressive in appearance,
and them to be more entirely and suddenly capti-
vating, than in the nature of things it is possible
that either of them should really be. Probably
most of us went to Steinway Hall on Nionday even-
ing last in much the same frame of mind with which
one goes to look for the first time at some master-
piece of art or some wonder of nature, and perhaps
most of us came away as one comes from his first
view of Niagara or a Titian—not quite satisfied,
with some waiting and remembering and comparing
to be done before one perceives how much it is that
has been seen.

The audience—every seat filled—wait for Mr.
Dickens to appear, and meantime look at the fur-
niture of the platform—a little red-covered reading
desk, behind it a screen of a brown crimson colour,
in front of it, on the edge of the stage, a little to
the right and left of the desk, two tall role, which
support what, as the audience sees it, resembles a
red maroon-coloured board. On the other side of
the board are fixed the lamps which light the figure
of the reader. There is nothing else in the nature
of scenery—to use a technical word of the theatre.
And here we come to one of the two momentary
disappointments of which we have spoken. Most
people, we dare say, will go to hear the readings
with a vague expectation that they are to be pleased
as an actor pleases them, or rather they go with
suggested reminiscences of great actors in their
minds, and with little knowledge of what it is in
which " reading," properly so-called, consists. But
there is no more of the theatre in the reader
than there is in the accessories of which we
have spoken, and how slight and simple those acces-
sories are we have seen, The trae theory of the
performance is not that it is acting in which the
actor, as much as possible, forgets himself into the
very likeness of what he personates, but is rather
that a gentleman dramatically tells a story among
friends, indicating rather than perfectly assuming
the characters of the personages brought before us ;
never wholly, indeed never nearly, losing sight of
his hearers and himself ; never wholly, never at
any rate for very long, getting away from the gen-
tlemanly drawing-room, with its limiting conven-
tionalities, into the wider and freer atmosphere of
the stage. Readings are simply story-telling or
declaiming, or the recitation of poetry, with excep-
tionally good elocution, and with occasional feats of
imitation of a kind more or less subdued.

other passage in the evening's entertainment, was
not nearly so successful as those in which we have
Mr. Fezziwig celebrating Christmas, " cutting" till
the very calves of his legs seem to wink ; or the
Cratchits eating their Christmas goose, and the young
Cratchits turning livid on suspicion that, while they
were up to their very foreheads in stuffing, some-
body has come over the fence and stolen the pud-
ding ; or Mr. Topper, affronting the credulity of
human nature by his premeditated pursuit, while
shamming that he is blindfolded, of the plump sister
in the lace tucker.

All this called forth very hearty applause. But
the most spontaneous and the heartiest plaudits
were given when Sergeant Buzfuz said, "
Samuel Weller." Evidently everybody recognised
in Samuel an old acquaintance. Everybody, too,
we imagine, was a little disappointed that Sam,
when he answered the call, made no more show than
he did in the witness-box ; but when Anthony Wel-
ler disturbed the court-room by his orthographic
instructions to his son, which Mr. Dickens produced
in exactly the voice which we imagine as issuing
from beneath the capes and coats and adipose
tissue, and from among the pots of beer of a coach-
man of the olden time, it seemed as if the veritable
Prussian Blue was himself among us in the audi-
ence.

A thousand things might be said of the impres-
sions which Monday evening made on Mr. Dickens's
audience, most of whom saw for the first time a
friend whom they had long loved. To us the most
impressive thing was the burst of applause which
followed the mention of Sam Weller's name. It
was such an unaffected tribute of admiration as
few authors have ever obtained. Mr. Dickens stood
before us in the flesh—listening to that voice of
human sympathy and admiration which only the
posterity of most other great men hear.

MISCELLANEOUS NEWS.

t. From the Anglo-American Times.)
PARIS, Dec. 26, 1867.

mounting in hot haste the staircase leading to the
conjugal apartments, while the husband betook
himself with equal celerity to the dwelling of a
neighbouring locksmith. Scarcely, however, had
the good lady arrived in front of her door
when, like Sesame, it opened, and gave egress
to two exceedingly suspicious-looking individuals,
each encumbered with an enormous bundle.
Unable to stand this trying disappearance of her
goods and chattels, Madame M. at once precipitated
herself upon the robbers, or rather upon the bun-
dles. Startled by the unexpected attack, as well as
by the shrill outcries of the lady, the robbers threw
down their bundles and fled, their disappearance
being followed immediately by the arrival of the
husband and the locksmith, whose services were no
longer in requisition. The interior of the apart-
ment presented an appearence more picturesque
than orderly, everything being bundled up in
haste, so that in all probability a delay of another
hour would have left on the worthy couple a lasting,
and, at the same time, a most disagreeable souvenir
of the first Masked Ball of 1867.

NAPLES, Dec. 20, 1867.

Mr. Alfred D. Green, American Consul in this
place, died last Sunday morning after a few days'
illness. The consequences of a heavy fall in a sud-
den fainting fit was the immediate cause of death,
and the efforts of two eminent medical men, Dr.
Sim, and his countryman, Dr. Ransom, proved un-
availing to save him.
The history of the American consulate at Naples
has been eventful, not to say romantic, of late
years.

It was held for upwards of half a century by Mr.
Alexander Hammett, who was appointed in 1808.
He rendered such good service to his country that,
during fifty-two years, he was made an ex-
ception to the " four year rule," and left
in undisturbed possession until 1861. Then
Dr. Armsby, of Albany, was appointed, but
on arrival here, at once made the old man Vice-
Consul, and within a few months resigned ; at the
same time recommending the Government to con-
tinue old Mr. Hammett in the post, for which, not-
withstanding his age, he was still fully competent.
This recommendation was disregarded, and a Mr.
Howard was appointed this time, the old man being
°mitred, not to return.
Mr. Howard did not keep the place long, and
none of his successors have remained for more than
a few months.

Old Mr. Hammett is still living, but unable to
work, and having no pension or provision what-
ever has been kept from starvation by the charity
of the only American resident, Mr. Robert Rogers,
and the contributions of chance visitors. Ameri-
cans willing to aid an old servant of their country
may send their subscriptions through any of the
bankers at Naples.

FRANKFORT-ON-THE-MAINE, Dec. 23.

The Americans at Frankfort, to the number of
35 to 40, are getting up a real American Christmas
dinner at the Hotel d'Angleterre in this city.
Among the dishes are Indian corn, tomatoes, mince
pies, &c. The committee arc W. C. Watson, J.
Watson, and Edward Morris. It will be a mag-
nificent affair.

General Carl Shurz, formerly a conspicuous leader
in the German Republican Revolution of 1848, is writing
at Frankfort and Wiesbaden on Germany. The General,
it will be remembered, was in prison for treason, and would
doubtless have been hung by Prussia, but he had the good
luck to escape, and went to the United States. Ile has
done good service in the Union army during our civil war
as a General, and is now the popular editor of that widely-
celebrated journal the Westlisch Post, of St. Louis. The
General was never amnestied by Prussia, but we think
Bismarck and King William will not trouble him much if
he visits Prussia.