New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1857-07-27
has been hitherto unknown. Some Of these win
shortly be pubisAed BY the Arundel Society.
Last nieht heard Dickens read his Christmas


don rel orterp, though its equal in both these
spects is 0 very common sight in America. His
reading Of the dialogue vas wonderfully fne in the
narrative parts il had q smack Of the stage and
tendency to shriness at tho end Of every phrase,
which had curious effect. Altogether, 1t was a
complete succe.s, and will be repeated again for the
same charitable object-the benefit Of Douglas Jer-
rods widow Dickens is now IN bis forty.ffth
year, and Time il beginning to tell upon his exu-
berant locks, but his eye has all its old keenness
and sparkle. Little DorIit," though scknowl-
edged On all sides 10 be great falling of from bic
previous stories, has had extensive sale than
any thing he has writen-which proves the truth Of
saying Of old Sam. Rcgers-that there il only one
thing harder for man to do than to write himself
down, and that is, to write himself up.
Thackersy, the noblest Roman Of them al, has
been falsify ing the charges of the rampanty loyal
CaI adam papers, by giving his lectures on the Four
| Georges in all parts Of the United Kingdom, and
with the most gratifying success. 1t is cheering
| to see man of his Independence and honesty re-
warded by such sound and steady increase of pop
ular respect and appreciation. His next novel,
larger circle of readers than his last. have seen
few of the illustrations for it, which he intends
making with his own hand as in the case of 1.-The
New comes" but for the subject and character Of the
wolk YOU must wait until the first number appears.
/ spent two fortunate days last week at Fresh
water on the Isle of Wight, the resdence of Ten
nysop In the scenery round about the poets resi-.
dence, recognized many lines Of "Alaud." He
lives in charming spot, looking out on one side,
| over the edges Of the chalk cliff, to
the liquid azure bloom Of a crescent Of sea-
The silent sapphire spansd marriage ring Of the land
and on the other the blue channel of the So
lent to the far off wayy line Of the New Forest on
the northern horizon. Never shall forget these
golden hours spent with the noble poet and noble
map, ON the rolling, windy downs above the sea,
and under the shade Of his own lick aud elm
Buchanan Read, who has just come hither from
Rome to fulfil some painters engagements, look
me the other evening to visit Leigh Hunt-tbe sole,
surviving star Of that constellation which dawned
upon the literature of England with the present
century. The cid poet liyes in neat little cottage
| in Hammersmith, quite alone, since the recent
death of bis wife, That dainty grace, which is the
chief charm of his poetry, yet lives in his per-
| son and manners. He is seventy-three years old,
but the effects If age only physical; they have
not touched that buoy ant,joyou nature, which sur
wives in spte of SORROW and misfortune. His deep.
set eyes still beam with a soft, cheerful earnest
light; his voice is gentle and musical and his hair,
although almost silver.white, falls in fine, SILKY
locks on both sides Of bis face. 1t was grateful to
NE to press the same palm, which Keats and Shell
ley bud 30 often clasped in friendly warmth, and to
| hear him, who knew them so well, speak of them
as long. lost companions. He has curious cOllec-
ton Of locks of the hair of poets from Milton to
| Browning That thin tuft of brown, silky fibers,
could it really have been shOrn from Millions head
| asked myself. "TOuch il" said Leigh HINT,
"and then you will have touched Millions SELF"
"1bere is life in hah, though it be dead said
| l. as / did so, repeating line from Hunts own
sonnet on this lock. Sheley's hair was golden and
very soft; Keatss bright brown, curling in large
| Bacchic rings; DR.. JohnsOn's gray, with harsh
and wiry feel; Dean Swift's both brown and gray,
but firer denotirg q more sensitive Organiza-
| ton; and Charles Lambs reddish brown, short and
strong / vas delighted to hear Hunt speak of
poems which be still designed to write, as if the
ace of verse should never cease with one in whom
the faculty is born.
Church's picture Of Niagara has just arrived, and
has been seen by few cOnnoisseurs, though there
| las yet been no public exhibition of it. have
| heard but one opinion in regard to it. The ex.
hbitor told me that Ruskn had just been to see it,
| and that he had found effects in it which ne had
been waiting for years to find. / am sorry that it
| is shown 10y easlght, in darkened room. Churchs
pictures will all bear the daylight; he needs no ar
tifcal tricheres of this kind. Some English artists
had been, q few days previous, questioning me
about landscape art in America, and am delighted
at being able to point to such noble example in
justification of my assertions. CrOpscy who is now
living here, has very fine autumnal picture in the
| Exhibition of the Royal Academy. believe he is
doing very we'll Hart, the sculptor, has been set
ted here for more than year past and his admira-
Bile busts are beginning 70 excite attention. wish
| had time to speak of Millais's "Sir 1sumbras,"
about which one hears the most conflicting opinions,
| and Rosa Bonheur's wonderful picture of 1.-The
Horse Foir" But as the latter is owned by an
American, you will sec it some day OF other. 1
have seen nothing Of Landseer's which at all ap-
pIOacbes it.
leave politics to such practiced pens as "A. P.
Co" glad that there is lighter field left to such
sketcbers as myself. But am also glad to get OF
the dusty highways of travel once more, and seek
those out. the.wsy wids and corners where there
s freer atmosphere and more genial Inspiration
and SO leave for Norway to morrow. b. T.