Daily American organ. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1856, 1855-12-18
Il Haj From the New York Post.
Literary Intelligence.

s .js From the New York Post.
Literary Intelligence.
We have received the first number or part Of
Little Dorrt, the new serial upon which Dickens
is engaged. It was published December lst It
is to appear in Harper's Magazine next month.
The story opens with very Dickensy description
very hot August day We copy It, that our read
ers may have the opportunity of saying at least
that they have began reading " Little Dorrit -
Thirty years ago, Marseilles lay burning in the
sun, one day. a blazing sun upon fierce August
day was no greater rarity In Southern France thep
than at any other time, before or since. Every
thing in Marsees and about Marseilles, had star,d
at the fervd sky, and been stared at in return
til staring habit had become universal there
Strangers were stared out Of countenance by star
ing white houses staring white walls staring white
streets, staring tracts of arid roads, staring hills
from which verdure was burnt away. The only
things to be seen not fxedly staring and glaring,
were the vines dropping under their load of grapes
These did occasionally wink little, as the hot air
barely moved their faint leaves There was no
wind to make ripple on the foul water within the
harbor, or on the bcautiful sea without. The line
of demarcation between the two colors, black and
blue, showed the point which the pure sea would
not pass I; but IL lay as quiet as the aboininahls~
pool, with which it never mixed. Boats without
their moorings; the stones of the quays had not
cooled night or day, for months.
IL !" Hindoos, Russians Chinese, Spaniards, Portu-
guese Englishmen, Frenchmen, Genoese, Neapol-
itans, yenetians, Greeks, Turks, descendants from
all the builders Of Babel, come to trade at Mar
seles, sought the shade alike--taking refuge in
any hiding place from sea too intensely blue TO
be looked at, and sky of purple, set with one
great flaming jewel Of tire. The universal stare
made the eyes ache. Towards the distant line of
Italian coast indeed II was little relieved by
light clouds of mist slowly rising from the evapo-
ration Of the sea but It softened nowhere else.
Far away the staring roads, deep in dust, stared
from the hillside stared from the hollow, stared
from the ntermnable plain. Far away the dusty
vines overhanging wayside cottages, and the mo-
notonous wayside avenues OF parched trees without
shape, dropped beneath the stare Of earth and sky
So did the horses, with drowsy bells, In long files
of carts, creeping slowly towards the interior; so
did their recumbent drivers, when they were
awake, which rarely happened; SO did the exhaust
ed laborers In the fields. t
Everything that lived grew was oppressed
by the glare except the lizard, passing swiftly
over rough stone walls, and the cicala chirping
his dry hot chirp, like q rattle. The very dust
was scorched brown, and something quivered in
the atmosphere as If the air itself were painting
Blinds shutters, curtains, awnings, were all closed
and drawn TO keep out the stare. Grant il but a
chink or key hole, and 1t shot In like awhitehot ar
row. The churches were the freest from L. To como
out Of the twilight Of pillars and Enthusiastically
dotted with winking lamps, dreamiy peopled with
ugly old shadows piously DOING, sslsting and beg
ging--was to plunge into fiery river, and swim
for life to the nearest strip Of shade. So, with
people lounging and lying wherever shade was,
with but little hum of tongues or barking Of dogs,
with occasional jingng of dscordant church bells,
| and rattng of vicious drums, Marseiles, fact
to be strongly smelt and tasted lay broiling inthc
sun one day.