Then a corps of sneaking reporters, most of them fresh from London, are pursuing him like a pack of hounds at his heels to catch every wink of his eye, every motion of his hands, and every word that he speaks, to be dished up with all conceivable embellishments by pen and pencil, and published in extras, pamphlets, and handbills. To make all this trash sell well in the market, the greatest possible hurrah must be made by the papers interested in the speculations, and therefore the whole American people are basely caricatured by them, and represented as one vast mob following Dickens from place to place, and striving even to touch the hem of his garment. That our readers at a distance may not be induced to suppose that the good people of New York are befooling themselves in this way, we beg leave to assure them that all these absurd reports are ridiculous caricatures, hatched from the prolific brains of a few reckless reporters for a few unprincipled papers. They do in truth make as great fools of themselves as they represent the public to be generally. But beyond their narrow and contemptible circle we are happy to know that Mr. Dickens is treated with that manly and sincere respect which is so justly his due, and which must convince him that he is amongst a warm-hearted people, who know both how to respect their guest and themselves. When Dickens sailed for home, in June, the _Sun_ bade him _bon voyage_ with but a paragraph. It was more than a year afterward that it came to him again; and meanwhile he had trodden on the toes of America: The appearance of the current number of “The Life and Adventures of Martin Chuzzlewit” will not add to the happiness of retrospections. Where is that Boston committee, where the renowned getters-up of the City Hotel dinner and the ball at the Park Theater, with its _tableaux vivants_, its splendid decorations, and tickets at ten dollars each? The scene is passing now before our memory--the crammed theater, full up to its third tier, the dense crowd opening a passage for Mr. Dickens and the proud and happy committee while he passes up the center of the stage amid huzzas and the waving of handkerchiefs, while the band is playing “God Save the Queen” and “See, the Conquering Hero Comes.” And _our_ Irving, _our_ Halleck, _our_ Bryant passed around in the crowd, unnoticed and almost unknown. Shame! Let our cheeks crimson, as they ought. The _Sun_ itself was doing very nicely. On its tenth birthday, September 3, 1843, it announced that it employed eight editors and reporters, twenty compositors, sixteen pressmen, twelve folders and counters, and one hundred carriers. The circulation of the daily paper was thirty-eight thousand, of the _Weekly Sun_ twelve thousand.