Chapter V (4)

It is good they say for the stomach--good for the skin--good for ladies of all possible ages--for all sorts and conditions of men. For a headache, drink, the inn-keepers exclaim, at the Koch-brunnen. For gout in the heels, soak the body, the doctors say, in the chicken-broth!--in short, the valetudinarian, reclining in his carriage, has scarcely entered the town, say what he will of himself, the inhabitants all seem to agree in repeating--"_Bene bene respondere, dignus est intrare nostro docto corpore!_"

There was something to my mind so very novel in bathing in broth, that I resolved to try the experiment, particularly as it was the only means I had of following the crowd. Accordingly, retiring to my room, in a minute or two I also, in my slippers and black dressing-gown was to be seen, staff in hand, mournfully walking down the long passage, as slowly and as gravely as if I had been in such a profession all my life. An infirm elderly lady was just before me--some lighter-sounding footsteps were behind me--but without raising our eyes from the ground, we all moved on, just as if we had been corpses gliding or migrating from one church yard to another.

The door was now closed, and my dressing-gown being carefully hung upon a peg, (a situation I much envied it,) I proceeded, considerably against my inclination, to introduce myself to my new acquaintance, whose face, or surface, was certainly very revolting; for a white, thick, dirty, greasy scum, exactly resembling what would be on broth, covered the top of the bath. But all this, they say is exactly as it should be; and indeed, German bathers at Wiesbaden actually insist on its appearance, as it proves, they argue, that the bath has not been used by any one else. In most places in ordering a warm bath, it is necessary to wait till the water be heated, but at Wiesbaden, the springs are so exceedingly hot, that the baths are obliged to be filled over night, in order to be cool enough in the morning; and the dirty scum I have mentioned is the required proof that the water has, during that time, been undisturbed.

Resolving not to be bullied by the ugly face of my antagonist, I entered my bath, and in a few seconds I lay horizontally, calmly soaking, like my neighbors.

Here is a characteristic _crayoning_:

As soon as breakfast was over, I generally enjoyed the luxury of idling about the town: and, in passing the shop of a blacksmith, who lived opposite to the Goldene Kette, the manner in which he tackled and shod a vicious horse amused me. On the outside wall of the house two rings were firmly fixed, to one of which the head of the patient was lashed close to the ground; the hind foot, to be shod, stretched out to the utmost extent of the leg, was then secured to the other ring about five feet high, by a cord which passed through a cloven hitch, fixed to the root of the poor creature's tail.

The hind foot was consequently very much higher than the head; indeed, it was so exalted, and pulled so heavily at the tail, that the animal seemed to be quite anxious to keep his other feet on _terra firma_. With one hoof in the heavens, it did not suit him to kick; with his nose pointing to the infernal regions, he could not conveniently rear, and as the devil himself was apparently pulling at his tail, the horse at last gave up the point, and quietly submitted to be shod.

* * * * *

Mr. Fay wishes us to believe that the sale of a book is the proper test of its merit. To save time and trouble we _will_ believe it, and are prepared to acknowledge, as a consequence of the theory, that the novel of Norman Leslie is not at all comparable to the Memoirs of Davy Crockett, or the popular lyric of Jim Crow.

{341} SUPPLEMENT.

At the solicitation of our correspondents, we again publish some few of the _Notices of the Messenger_, which have lately appeared in the papers of the day. The supplement now printed contains probably about one fifth of the flattering evidences of public favor which have reached us, from all quarters, within a few weeks. Those selected are a fair sample of the general character of the whole.

From the Charlottesville Advocate.

_The Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have been favored by Mr. White, the proprietor, with the March No. of this periodical. The delay in the publication has been occasioned by the desire of Mr. White to insert Prof. Dew's Address. However desirable a regular and punctual issue may be, we are disposed to excuse the delay on the present occasion, for the reason assigned.

As the Messenger has now passed through the difficulties attendant on new enterprises, is on a permanent footing, and has vindicated its claims to rank among the first of American Periodicals, we commenced the perusal of the present number, predetermined to censure whenever we could get the slightest pretext. We have read it calmly and with a "critic's eye," and though it is not faultless, for with two exceptions the poetry is below mediocrity, we have been so delighted with most of the articles, as not to have the heart to censure. We candidly regard it the best single number of any American periodical we have ever seen. Mr. Dew's Address and Mr. Stanton's Essay on Manual Labor Schools, are articles of enduring and inestimable worth.

We subjoin the following notice of the contents from the Richmond Compiler, with which we in the main concur.

From the Richmond Compiler.

We have already announced the appearance of the Literary Messenger for March 1836. We always read the work with pleasure, and have frequently awarded to it the high praise it so well deserves. In the present instance, we are forcible struck with a sort of merit so rare in publications of the kind, that, to a certain class of readers, our praise may sound like censure.

We hazard nothing in saying, that in the pages before us, there is more substantial matter, more information, more food for the mind, and more provocative to thought, than we have ever seen in any periodical of a miscellaneous character. A chapter from Lionel Granby--a _jeu d'esprit_ from Mr. Poe--some of the reviews--and a page or two of description--together with a very few metrical lines--make the sum total of light reading.

We would not be understood to mean that the rest is heavy. Far from it. But we want some word to distinguish that which ought to be read and studied, from that which may be read for amusement only. He who shall read the rest of the number, must be very careless or very dull, if he is not edified and instructed. We will add, that his taste must be bad, if he is not tempted to receive the instruction here offered by the graces of style, the originality of thought, and the felicity of illustration, with which the gravest of these articles abounds.

This remark applies in all its force to Professor Dew's Address, which all who cherish a well-balanced love, at once for the Sovereignty and the Union of these States, will read with delight. Those who have yet to acquire this sentiment, will read it with profit. If there be any man who doubts the peculiar advantages, moral, intellectual and pecuniary of a system of federative harmony, contradistinguished from consolidation on the one hand, and disunion on the other, let him read, and doubt no more.

A subject of less vivid interest has been treated in a style at once amusing and instructive, by the author of the Essay on the Classics. No one can read that essay, without feeling that there must be something to refine and sublime the mind of man in the studies in which the writer is so obviously a proficient. Are these the thoughts? are these the images and illustrations? is this the language, with which the study of the classics makes a man familiar? Then it is true, as the poet has said:

"Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes
Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros."

"_Mutatis mutandis_," we would award the same general praise to an Essay on Education, and to the addresses from Judge Tucker of the Court of Appeals, and Mr. Maxwell of Norfolk. As to the continuation of the Sketches of African History, it is enough to say that it is a continuation worthy of what has gone before.

The reviews are, as usual, piquant and lively, and in that style which will teach writers to value the praise and dread the censures of the critic. Among the articles reviewed, we are pleased at the appearance of Dr. Hawk's historical work. We are delighted, too, to find him, though not a Virginian, coming to the rescue of Virginia, from the misjudged or disingenuous praises of men who knew not how to appreciate the character of our ancestors. No. _It is a new thing with Virginians to lean to the side of power._ Those who have taught her that lesson, have found her an unapt scholar. The spirit of Virginia tends _upwards_, and we have all seen

"With what compulsion, and laborious flight,"

she has sunk to her present degraded condition.

To think of our fathers, as they stood 180 years ago, yielding with undisguised reluctance to inevitable necessity; and, in the very act of _submission_ to the _power_ of the usurper, denying his _right_, and protesting that they owed him no _obedience_! And we, the sons--what are we?

"'Twere long to tell, and sad to trace
Each step from glory to disgrace:
Enough!--No foreign foe could quell
Her soul, 'till from itself it fell;
And self-abasement paved the way
To villain bonds and despot sway."

From the Baltimore Patriot.

_The Southern Literary Messenger_, for March, is just out: late in the day, it is true, but not any the less acceptable on that account. We have just risen from a faithful perusal of its contents, which are of uncommon richness and value. Its merits are solid, not superficial: and therein it is more worthy of the support of the lovers of literature, than any other literary Magazine published in our country. We mean what we say, disdainful of the imputation of being thought capable of a puff. It is a repository of works "to keep," and not of the trash which "perisheth in the using." Still it has variety. It combines the _utile et dulce_ in a most attractive and pleasing degree, and there is no lack of that "change" of which the poet says the "mind of desultory man" is "studious."

We will give the readers of the Patriot a bird's eye view of the contents of the number we have just laid down, in illustration and corroboration of what we have said in relation to its merits.

_Sketches of Tripoli, No. XI._--One may gather a very good idea of the present condition of the Barbary States, from a perusal of these graphic papers. We know no others extant so attractive and so satisfactory. They are written in a pure and refined style, and form a very valuable and interesting history.

"_The Classics_" is the title of one of the most splendid articles we have ever perused in any shape. This one paper would be cheaply purchased by the scholar, at the subscription fee for the volume. It is a defence of the Classics and a classical education, against the modern innovations of the romantic school. The writer makes out his case most ably and convincingly,--showing himself to be well fitted for the task he assumed, by the devotedness with which he has worshipped at the pure shrine to which he would win his readers. We wish we were sure that we had said enough to draw a general attention to this admirable article.

{342} _A Loan to the Messenger_, including _Life_, a Brief History, in three parts, with a sequel, by CUTTER, is not only "exceedingly neat," but surpassingly beautiful. It is a rare instance of the union of tender sentiment and epigrammatic point. For example--

A purpose, and a prayer;
The stars are in the sky--
He wonders how e'en Hope should dare
To let him aim so high!

Still Hope allures and flatters
And Doubt just makes him bold:
And so, with passion all in tatters,
The trembling tale is told!

_Readings with my Pencil_, No. III, a most excellent article--full of poetical thoughts and, generally speaking, profound ones. We agree with J. F. O. cordially, in his opinion of _Burns_, in the case "_Burns vs. Moore_." Yet there are not many who will so agree with him. _Reading No. 12_, is more regardful of words than things. Dr. Johnson was right, we think, in saying that "the suspicion of Swift's irreligion proceeded, in a great measure, from his dread of hypocrisy," and J. F. O. is wrong in therefore concluding that "Swift, according to Johnson, was afraid of being thought a hypocrite and so actually became one." But of this J. F. O. was well aware--he could not think, however of sacrificing the antithesis. Let him examine the word _hypocrisy_ and ascertain its _popular_ meaning, for thereby hangs the tale. A man who feigns a character which he does not possess, is not necessarily a hypocrite. The _popular_ acceptation of hypocrisy requires that being vicious, he shall feign virtue. This the very intelligent author of _Readings with My Pencil_ will not fail to perceive at once. These readings are far better than nine-tenths of the _fudge_ of _Lacon_--or the purer _fudge_ of _Rochefoucault_.

_Halley's Comet_.--After Miss Draper's stanzas thus entitled, the poet of "Prince Edward" should not have sent his to the Messenger. We cannot call this poetry or philosophy,--it was not intended obviously as burlesque.

Art thou the ship of heaven, laden with light,
From the eternal glory sent,
To feed the glowing suns, that might
In ceaseless radiance but for thee be spent?

_Epimanes_.--This is one of Poe's queerities. He takes the reader back in supposition to the city of Antioch, in the year of the world 3830, and in that peculiar style, which after all must be called _Poe-tical_, because it is just that and nothing else, he feigns the enactment of a real scene of the times before your eyes. The actors "come like shadows, so depart,"--but yet assume a most vivid reality while they stay. We hope this powerful pen will be again similarly employed.

"_To Helen_" is a pretty little gem, and from the same mine. It shall glisten in the Patriot ere long.

In the _Poetry of Burns_, by JAMES F. OTIS, we see much of the fine lyrical feeling which distinguishes the "_Readings with My Pencil_." The subject, to be sure, is _au peu passe_--but we can hardly have too much of BURNS. Mr. OTIS seems fully to understand and appreciate him.

"_Change_"--pretty verses, but not poetry. The four last lines should always be at least _as good_ as the rest. One judges of the flavor of a fruit by the taste it _leaves_ in the mouth. Apply this hint to these verses.

The next paper is an Address delivered before the Literary Institute at Hampden Sidney College by Mr. STANTON, upon the importance of "_Manual Labor Schools_," as connected with literary institutions. It is an admirable production; and one of that class of papers which go to make the "Messenger" what we have already designated it, the only Literary Magazine now set up in this country deserving the name.

An interesting description of a Natural Bridge in South America, that the writer thinks more sublime than that in Virginia (which we can hardly credit)--some dozen lines about Washington, good only for filling in the spare nook they occupy, and an epigram without point, next follow, and these are succeeded by another South American sketch, describing a waterfall, of great beauty.

We cannot say much in favor of the "_Song of Lee's Legion_," nor will we say much against it. We wish the poetry of the Messenger were of a higher order. At present it does not hold equality with the prose department, by any means.

"_Lionel Granby_" is written with much spirit, and the present (the eleventh) chapter is one of the best. We will review this whole story, at length, when completed. We think it equal to any of the novellettes which it has now become so fashionable to publish in this form: although that form, so full of interruptions as it is, prevents that enjoyment in perusal which would be derived from the possession of the work entire.

"_The Patriarch's Inheritance_."--Rich language, fine conception, smooth versification. "T. H. S." improves.

_Americanisms:_ Captions.--We are too apt to bark before we are bitten; and there was no especial need that "H." should growl at BULWER, because he had made a very good terse word to express _greedy_, from the Latin _avidus_, merely by way of vindicating our people from old charges of a similar character.

Stanzas _To Randolph of Roanoke_, written soon after his death. We cannot say that Hesperus has done enough in this effusion to induce us to alter our verdict upon the poetry of the Messenger. As the stanzas appear to be a matter of feeling with the author, we will not enter into a discussion of the sentiments they contain. We would advise him to try another kind of theme.

_Address_, by the Hon. HENRY ST. GEORGE TUCKER, before the Virginia Historical and Philosophical Society--a most admirable paper. It was delivered upon the distinguished author's taking the seat vacated by the late Chief Justice MARSHALL, as President of the above named Society; and is, mostly, a beautiful eulogy upon his illustrious predecessor. It is just such a production as our knowledge of the author would have led us to anticipate from him--alike creditable to his head, stored with the lore of ages, and to his heart, full of the kindest and most benevolent feelings.

Mr. MAXWELL'S Speech, before the Virginia Historical and Philosophical Society, at its late annual meeting, another eloquent eulogy upon the lamented MARSHALL. Virginia seems to be taking the most serene delight in wreathing garlands around his tomb, and this is one of the most verdant, and promises to be one of the most enduring. It is short, but breathes eloquently forth a spirit which will impress it upon the minds and memories of hearers and readers. It is a high compliment to the MESSENGER, and a pregnant proof of the estimation into which that journal has worthily grown that it is made the medium of conveying such productions to posterity.

But the most valuable paper in the number is an Address on the influence of the Federative Republican System of Government upon Literature, and the Development of Character, by Professor Dew. We have never perused a more able literary essay than this address. The author traverses the whole field of literature, and draws from the stores of antiquity lessons for the improvement of his own countrymen in literature, art, and politics. We commend it to the perusal of every American.

Then follow "_Critical Notices_." These are written by POE. They are few and clever. The sledge-hammer and scimetar are laid aside, and not one poor devil of an author is touched, except one "Mahmoud," who is let off with a box on the ear for plagiarism. The review of "Georgia Scenes" has determined us to buy the book. The extracts are irresistible.

The merit of this number consists in its solidity. The same amount of reading, of a similar character, can certainly no where and in no other form be furnished the reader on the same terms. It is our duty no less than our interest to sustain 'the Messenger.'

{343} From the Norfolk Herald.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--No. 4, Vol. 2, of this Journal is just issued, and contains 16 pages of matter over and above its usual quantity--that is, it contains 80 closely printed pages in place of 64, its promised amount. A very slight inspection will convince any one at all conversant in these matters that the present number of the Messenger embraces as much reading matter (if not considerably more) than four ordinary volumes, such for example, as the volumes of Paul Ulric or Norman Leslie. Of the value of the matter, or rather of its value in comparison with such ephemera as these just mentioned, it is of course unnecessary to say much. Popular opinion has placed the Messenger in a very enviable position as regards the Literature of the South. We have no hesitation in saying that it has elevated it immeasurably. To use the words of a Northern contemporary "it has done more within the last six months to refine the literary standard in this country than has been accomplished before in the space of ten years."

The number before us commences with No. XI. (continued) of the _Tripolitan Sketches_. We can add nothing to the public voice in favor of this series of papers. They are excellent--and the one for this month is equal to any in point of interest.

_The Classics_ is a most admirable paper--indeed one of the most forcible, and strange to say, one of the most original defences of Ancient Literature we have ever perused. We do not, however, altogether like the sneers at Bulwer in the beginning of the article. They should have been omitted, for they are not only unjust, but they make against the opinions advanced. Bulwer is not only a ripe scholar, but an advocate of classical acquirement.

_A Loan to the Messenger_, is beautiful--very beautiful--witness the following--

Sonnets and serenades,
Sighs, glances, tears, and vows,
Gifts, tokens, souvenirs, parades,
And courtesies and bows.

A purpose, and a prayer:
The stars are in the sky--
He wonders how e'en hope should dare
To let him aim so high!

Still Hope allures and flatters,
And Doubt just makes him bold:
And so, with passion all in tatters,
The trembling tale is told!

_Readings with My Pencil, No. 2._ is a fine article in the manner of Colton. A true sentiment well expressed is contained in the concluding words: "I am one of those who are best when most afflicted. While the weight hangs heavily, I keep time and measure, like a clock; but remove it, and all the springs and wheels move irregularly, and I am but a mere useless thing."

_Halley's Comet_----so, so.

_Epimanes_. By Edgar A. Poe--an historical tale in which, by imaginary incidents, the character of Antiochus Epiphanes is vividly depicted. It differs essentially from all the other tales of Mr. Poe. Indeed no two of his articles bear more than a family resemblance to one another. They all differ widely in matter, and still more widely in manner. _Epimanes_ will convince all who read it that Mr. P. is capable of even higher and better things.

_To Helen_--by the same author--a sonnet full of quiet grace--we quote it in full.

Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore
That, gently, o'er a perfum'd sea,
The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.

On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
To the beauty of fair Greece
And the grandeur of old Rome.

Lo! in that little window-niche
How statue-like I see thee stand;
The folded scroll within thy hand--
Ah! Psyche from the regions which
Are Holy land!

_On the Poetry of Burns. By James F. Otis_--a good essay on a threadbare subject--one, too, but very lately handled in the Messenger by Larry Lyle.

_Change_--has some fine thoughts, for example,

----My little playmate crew
Have slept to wake no more

Till Change itself shall cease to be,
And one successive scene
Of steadfastness immutable
Remain where Change hath been.

_Manual Labor Schools--By the Rev. E. F. Stanton_ is an essay which, while we disagree with it in some of its results, will serve to convince any one of the absolute importance of exercise to men of sedentary habits or occupations.

_Song of Lee's Legion_--very spirited verses.

_Natural Bridge of Pandi_, and _Fall of Tequendama_ are both acceptable articles.

_Lines on the Statue of Washington in the Capitol_, although a little rugged in conclusion, are terse and forcible, and embody many eloquent sentiments. We recognize one of our most distinguished men--a fellow-townsman too--in the nerve and vigor of these verses. The _Epigram_ below them is not worth much.

_The Patriarch's Inheritance_--majestic and powerful.

_Americanisms_--a very good article, and very true.

_To Randolph of Roanoke_. These lines have some fine points and the versification is good--but we do not like them upon the whole.

_Judge Tucker's Address_, and _Mr. Maxwell's Speech_ before the Virginia Historical and Philosophical society, we read with much interest. Things of this nature are apt to be common place unless the speakers are men of more than ordinary _tact_. There is no deficiency, however, in the present instance. Mr. Maxwell's speech, especially, is exceedingly well adapted to produce effect in delivery--more particularly in such delivery as Mr. Maxwell's.

The _Address of Professor Dew_ is, beyond doubt, an article of great ability, and must excite strong attention, wherever it is read. It occupies full 20 pages--which, perhaps, could not have been better occupied. He has fully proved that a Republic such as ours, is the fairest field in the world for the growth and florescence of Literature.

The _Critical Notices_ maintain their lofty reputation--but as they will assuredly be read by all parties, and as we have already exceeded our limits, we forbear to enter into detail. The Messenger is no longer a query, it has earned a proud name. It demands encouragement and _will have it_.

From the Cincinnati Mirror.

_The Southern Literary Messenger for February_, is before us. It is made up, as usual, of a very interesting miscellany of original articles. This magazine is rapidly winning a high estimate for the literature of the South. Its pages contain as good articles as any other Monthly in the country. Its correspondents are numerous and able, and its editor wields the gray goose quill like one who knows what he is about, and who has a right to. Commend us to the literary notices of this Magazine for genius, spice and spirit. Those which are commendatory, are supported by the real merit of the books themselves; but woe seize on the luckless wights who feel the savage skill with which the editor uses his tomahawk and scalping knife. The fact is, the Messenger is not given to the mincing of matter--what it has to say is said fearlessly.

From the Boston Galaxy.

_Smarting under Criticism_.--Fay can't bear criticism. The Southern Literary Messenger cut him up sharply--and Fay has retorted--evincing that the sting rankles. A pity.

{344} From the Natchez Christian Herald.

_The Southern Literary Messenger_.--This elegantly printed Magazine is issued monthly from the classic press of T. W. White, Esq. Richmond, Va., and has, during the year elapsed since its commencement, won a commanding share of public approbation and attention. It is truly a high-minded and liberal specimen of southern literature, on which is deeply engraved the impressions of Southern character and feeling. We admire the periodical more on that account. It has a glow of enthusiasm, offering to the public, if not the very best, yet the best productions it can command, with a sort of chivalrous hospitality which cannot but remind one of the gentlemanly southron at his fireside.

Among the contributions of original articles for this magazine we cannot but notice the able historical papers entitled "Sketches of the history and present condition of Tripoli, with some account of the other Barbary states." These finely written papers have appeared in ten consecutive numbers of the Literary Messenger, and, together with "Extracts from my Mexican Journal," and "Extracts from an unpublished abridgement of the History of Virginia," furnish a valuable mass of the most useful information. The poetic writers for the Messenger, as a whole, are not the favorites of the Muses, and will no doubt be summoned to give an account of the cruel manner in which they have distorted the pure English in giving utterance to the spasmodic emotions of the _fytte_ which they may have imagined was upon them like an inspiration.

There is one department which we admire--the editorial criticisms. Racy, pungent, and reasonable, the editor writes as one disposed to test the true elements of authorship, and to weigh pretentions with achievements in the opposite scale. He has gently, yet with almost too daring a hand, taken apart the poetical attire of two or three ladies, whose writings have long been ranked among the better specimens of American poetry. He almost dares to hint that Mrs. Sigourney has, by forcing her short scraps of poetry into half the newspapers in the land, gained a wider fame than many a better poet who may have spent a life in maturing and polishing one poem which appears to the world, as poems should, in a dignified volume. He also makes the same charge of the "_frequency_ of her appeals to the attention of the public" against Miss Gould, and institutes the following comparison between the productions of the two authors: 'The faults which we have already pointed out, and some others which we will point out hereafter, are but dust in the balance, when weighed against her (Mrs. Sigourney's) very many and distinguished excellences. Among those high qualities which give her beyond doubt, a title to the sacred name of poet, are an acute sensibility to natural loveliness--a quick and perfectly just conception of the moral and physical sublime--a calm and unostentatious vigor of thought--a mingled delicacy and strength of expression--and above all, a mind nobly and exquisitely attuned to all the gentle charities and lofty pieties of life.

'We have already pointed out the prevailing characteristics of Mrs. Sigourney. In Miss Gould, we recognize, first, a disposition, like that of Wordsworth, to seek beauty where it is not usually sought--in the _homeliness_ (if we may be permitted the word,) and in the most familiar realities of existence--secondly _abandon_ of manner--thirdly a phraseology sparkling with antithesis, yet, strange to say, perfectly simple and unaffected.

'Without Mrs. Sigourney's high reach of thought, Miss Gould surpasses her rival in the mere vehicle of thought--expression. "Words, words, words," are the true secret of her strength. _Words_ are her kingdom--and in the realm of language she rules with equal despotism and _nonchalance_. Yet we do not mean to deny her abilities of a higher order than any which a mere _logomachy_ can imply. Her powers of imagination are great, and she has a faculty of inestimable worth, when considered in relation to effect--the faculty of holding ordinary ideas in so novel, and sometimes in so fantastic a light, as to give them all the appearance, and much of the value of originality. Miss Gould will, of course, be the favorite with the multitude--Mrs. Sigourney with the few.'

American prose writers and novelists are led under this keen critic's knife, as sheep to the slaughter. In the name of literature we thank Mr. White for his criticisms, that must purify the literary, as lightning does the natural atmosphere.

The Southern Literary Messenger is published on the first day of every month, containing 64 pages in each number, printed on good paper with a beautiful type. The terms are only _five dollars a year_, to be paid in advance.

From the Raleigh Star.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--"We have received the first number of the 2d volume of this valuable periodical. This work has justly acquired a reputation superior to that of any similar publication in the country, on account both of its elegant typographical execution, and the rich, valuable, and highly entertaining matter (mostly original) it contains. In the neatness and beauty of its typographical appearance, the number before us surpasses any of its predecessors; and its contents fully sustain its high literary character. We have no room at present for a particular notice of the articles. We hope that every Southron, who feels an interest in that sort of _internal improvement_ in the South, which respects the mind, will patronize this work."

From the Columbia (Geo.) Times.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have received, some time since, and wished to have given an earlier notice to, this really excellent journal; at whose copiousness, variety and goodness of matter, we were surprized. In literary execution, we think it fully equal to any Journal of its class, in all the North; and in quantity of matter, it far exceeds, we believe, any of them. It is also on a full equality with them, as to its typography.

We are struck, in the _Messenger_, with this good point: the extent of literary intelligence which it affords, by an unusual number of critical notices of new publications, is exceedingly well judged. Its criticisms, too, are in a sounder and more discriminating taste, than that which infects the Magazines of the North, turning them all into the mere vehicles of puffery for each man's little set of associates in scribbling--and partners in literary iniquity. The Messenger has also this feature, almost indispensable for a successful Magazine, its Editorial articles are decidedly the best that it contains. They seem to be almost uniformly good.

We had intended to give some extracts from the Messenger: but the claims of more pressing matters compel us to postpone them. It is published in Richmond (Va.) by Thomas W. White, contains 64 large pages, in double columns, with small type; and is published monthly, at $5 per annum.

From the National Gazette.

The number of the Southern Literary Messenger for March, has just made its appearance, having been delayed in order to insert an excellent address delivered by Professor Dew, of William and Mary College, upon the influence of the federative republican system of government upon literature and the developement of character. There are various articles which may be read with equal pleasure and profit. A short one upon "Americanisms" alludes to the word _avid_, employed by Bulwer in his last production, the hero of which is said to have been avid of personal power: and, the writer thinks it is the coinage of the novelist, as he says he can find no authority for it even in the latest dictionaries, nor in any author of repute. It does not, however, proceed from Mr. Bulwer's mint. As far as we are aware, Sir Egerton Brydges--who though not a first rate, is no mean member of the scribbling confraternity--is the {345} first who has employed it. His Autobiography, published a few years ago, and which by the way, ought to have been re-published here as one of the most interesting and singular works of the time, contains it often enough to prove some feeling towards it in the author's breast akin to that of paternal affection.

As the review of the book which appeared in the Edinburgh Quarterly, was attributed to Bulwer, it is very probable that he fell in love with it when engaged in the task of criticism--a moment when, it ought to be inferred he was particularly alive to the correctness or incorrectness of any intrusion upon the premises of the King's English. The word is unquestionably a good and expressive one, and has quite as much inherent right to be incorporated with our language as any other Latin excrescence. It is only "Hebrew roots," we are informed by high authority, that "flourish most in barren ground." No imputation, therefore, rests upon the soil from which this sprang. Upon the subject of coining words, as upon so many others, old Flaccus has spoken best:

Licuit, semperque licebit,
Signatum presente notâ procudere nomen.

From the North Carolina Standard.

_The Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have received the March No. of this valuable monthly. It is as rich in matter, and its pieces are as varied and interesting as any previous number; and we have before said, that but few periodicals in the Union, and none _South_ of the Potomac, are superior to it.

From the Washington Sun.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have received the _Southern Literary Messenger_ for February. Its contents are rich, varied and interesting. The critiques are particularly good, and evidence a mind feelingly alive to the literary reputation of our country. The collection of autographs will be examined with much interest. We can safely recommend this periodical to the patronage of the public.

From the Tuscaloosa Flag of the Union.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have received the last number of this beautiful and valuable Magazine, and take great pleasure in expressing the delight with which we have perused its contents. It is certainly the best Magazine now published in the Union, and is an honor to Southern literature and talent. The present number like its predecessors, is replete with 'pearls, and gems, and flowers,' and fully sustains the elevated character of the work. The Critical Notices are peculiarly meritorious and sensible. The Messenger is now under the editorial guidance of Edgar A. Poe, a gentleman highly distinguished for his literary taste and talent.

From the Fincastle Democrat.

_Southern Literary Messenger_.--We have been furnished, by the worthy publisher, with the February number of this "best of American periodicals," as it is said to be by a distinguished Northern contemporary. This number is pronounced, in all of the many notices which we have seen, to be the best of the fifteen that have been published; of this we are not competent to decide, not having been favored with the previous numbers; but, be it as it may, we cheerfully coincide in the annexed sentiment of the editor of the Pennsylvanian:--"If it is not well supported by our brethren of the South, no faith is to be placed in their sectional feeling; _it is vox et præterea nihil_."

From the U. S. Gazette.

The Southern Literary Messenger for March, full of good matter, is at hand--delayed with a view of giving the whole of Professor Dew's address. We miss the racy and condemnatory criticism that distinguishes the work, and which has been favorable to the production of good books. We who publish no volumes, look with complacency upon severe criticism.

From the Richmond Compiler.

The writer of the following judicious article, has performed a task for which he is entitled to our thanks. A want of time and a lack of the proper talent for criticism, have prevented us from giving our opinion at length upon the last number of the Messenger; and this sketch saves us the labor. We accord with most of the writer's positions, and are pleased with the good sense, moderation and delicacy with which he has discharged the office of censor. Criticism, to be useful, must be just and impartial. This is both.

"_The Southern Literary Messenger_."--Virginia has cause of exultation that her chief literary periodical bearing the above title, has already attained a respectable rank in the United States, and has won "golden opinions" from some of the highest dignitaries in the empire of criticism. Whilst I do not think that the February number which has just appeared, is superior to all its predecessors, yet it may be considered a fair specimen of the general ability with which the work is conducted. Its contents are copious--various in their style and character, and, in candor be it spoken, of very unequal merit. Whilst some articles are highly interesting--the readers of the Messenger would have lost but little, if others had been omitted. This remark is not made in the spirit of fault finding; the Messenger has always _enough_ in its pages to admire, without coveting an indiscriminate and unqualified praise of all which it contains.

The very first article in the February number, on the importance of _Selection in Reading_, though short, contains much matter for grave reflection. The writer states, and states truly, that if a man has forty years to employ in reading, and reads fifty pages a day, he will only be able in that period of time, to accomplish about _sixteen hundred_ volumes of 500 pages each. Highly favored as such a man would be, beyond the mass of his fellow creatures, how insignificant the number of volumes read by him, compared with the millions which fill the libraries of the world, and the thousands and tens of thousand that continually drop from the press. How vastly important is it, therefore, to be well directed in the choice of books!--and I may add, how great is the responsibility of those whose province it is so to direct; to whom the task has been confided of selecting our literary food, and of separating what is healthful and nutritious from what is poisonous and hurtful. A well established magazine, or periodical, undoubtedly exercises great influence on the literary taste, as well as the literary morality of the circle of its readers. Hence good taste, good feeling--just discrimination and high rectitude, are essential qualities in the conduction of such a work. That Mr. Poe, the reputed editor of the Messenger, is a gentleman of brilliant genius and endowments, is a truth which I believe, will not be controverted by a large majority of its readers. For one, however, I confess, that there are occasionally manifested some errors of judgment--or faults in taste--or whatever they may be called, which I should be glad to see corrected. I do not think, for example, that such an article as "the Duc De L'Omelette," in the number under consideration, ought to have appeared. That kind of writing, I know, may plead high precedents in its favor; but that it is calculated to produce effects permanently injurious to sound morals, I think will not be doubted by those who reflect seriously upon the subject. Mr. Poe is too fond of the wild--unnatural and horrible! Why will he not permit his fine genius to soar into purer, brighter, and happier regions? Why will he not disenthral himself from the spells of German enchantment and supernatural imagery? There is room enough for the exercise of the highest powers, upon the multiform relations of human life, without descending into the dark mysterious and unutterable creations of licentious fancy. When Mr. Poe passes from the region of shadows, into the plain practical dissecting room of criticism, he manifests great dexterity and power. He exposes the imbecility and rottenness of our _ad captandum_ popular literature, with the hand of a master. The public I believe was much delighted with the admirable scalping of "Norman Leslie," in the December number, and likewise of Mr. Simms' "Partisan," in the number for January; and it will be no less pleased at the caustic severity with which the puerile abortion of "Paul Ulric" is exposed in the present number.--These miserable attempts at fiction, will bring all fictitious writing into utter disrepute, unless indeed the stern rebukes which shall come from our chairs of criticism, shall rectify the public taste, and preserve the purity of public feeling.

It would be tedious to pronounce upon the merits and demerits of the several articles in the number under review. Dr. Greenhow's continuation of the Tripolitan Sketches is worthy of his calm and philosophical pen. The re-appearance of "Nugator" in the pages of the Messenger--after a long interval of silence--will be hailed by its readers with great pleasure; his "Castellanus" is excellent. The article on "Liberian Literature," will attract much attention. It presents a very vivid picture of the wonderful progress which that colony has made in most of the arts, and in many of the refinements of life. Lionel Granby--the sketch of the lamented Cushing,--and the sketches of Lake Superior, have each their peculiar merits, and will be read with interest; of the _Critical Notices_, the sarcastic power of the review of Paul Ulric, has been already spoken of. The Review of "Rienzi," too, the last novel of Bulwer, is written in Mr. Poe's best style,--but I must be permitted to dissent _toto cælo_ from his opinion, that the author of that work is unsurpassed as a novelist by any writer living or dead.--There is no disputing about tastes, but according to my poor judgment, a single work might be selected from among the voluminous labors of Walter Scott, worth all that Bulwer has ever written, or ever will write--and this I {346} believe will be the impartial verdict of posterity, at least so long as unaffected simplicity and the true moral sublime, are preferred to the gaudy and meretricious coloring which perverted genius throws around its creations. The Eulogy on the great and good Marshall, is an elaborate and elegant performance. It is a powerful, yet familiar sketch of the principal features in the life and character of that incomparable man. The notices of Emilia Harrington; Lieutenant Slidell's work, the _American in England_; _Conti_; the _Noble Deeds of Women_; of _Roget's Physiology_, (one of the Bridgewater Treatises) and of Mathew Carey's _Auto-Biography_--are all very spirited articles, and are greatly superior to papers of the same description in the very best monthly periodicals of our country. The last article "Autography" is not exactly to my taste, though there are doubtless many who would find in it food for merriment. The writer of "Readings with My Pencil, No. 1,"--contests the generally received maxim of Horace, that poets are born such; in other words, he denies that there is an "original, inherent organization" of the mind which leads to the "high Heaven of invention," or which, according to the phrenologists, confers the faculty of "ideality." It would require too much space to prove that Horace was right, and that his assailant is altogether wrong. Mr. J. F. O. is greatly behind the philosophy of the age. It is too late in the day to prove that Shakespeare and Byron were created exactly equal with the common mass of mankind, and that _circumstances_ made them superior. Circumstances may excite and _develope_ mental power, but cannot create it. Napoleon, although not born Emperor of the French, was originally endowed with that great capacity which fitted him to tread the paths of military glory and to cut out his way to supreme power. Ordinary mortals could not have achieved what he did, with circumstances equally favorable, or with an education far superior.

It is gratifying to learn that the "Messenger" is still extending the circle of its readers. The wonder is,--supposing that we have some love of country left on this side of the Potomac,--that its patronage is not overflowing. It is the only respectable periodical, I believe, south of that river; and with due encouragement, it might not only become a potent reformer of literary taste, but the vehicle of grave and solid instruction upon subjects deeply interesting to the southern country. That with all our never-ending professions of patriotism, however, there exists a vast deal more of selfishness than public spirit, even in our sunny clime, is a lamentable truth,--nor for one, am I sufficiently sanguine to unite with the editor of the Messenger, in the answer which he gives to his own interrogatory in the following eloquent passage, extracted from the Review of "Conti;"--"How long shall mind succumb to the grossest materiality? How long shall the veriest vermin of the earth who crawl around the altar of Mammon be more esteemed of men, than they, the gifted ministers to those exalted emotions which link us with the mysteries of Heaven? To our own query we may venture a reply. Not long--not long will such rank injustice be committed, or permitted. A spirit is already abroad at war with it. And in every billow of the unceasing sea of change--and in every breath, however gentle, of the wide atmosphere of revolution encircling us, is that spirit steadily, yet irresistibly at work." Alas! for this sea of change and this atmosphere of revolution which are fast surrounding us! For my part, I fear that all other distinctions but _wealth_ and _power_ are about to be annihilated. What do we behold indeed in society, but one universal struggle to acquire both? Moral and intellectual worth are but lightly esteemed in comparison with the possession of that sordid dross, which every brainless upstart or every corrupt adventurer may acquire.

Though the Muses occupy a small space in the present number of the Messenger, their claims are not to be disregarded. Miss Draper's "Lay of Ruin," and Mr. Flint's "Living Alone" have both decided merit. The "Ballad" is written by one who can evidently write much better, if he chooses; and there is a deep poetical inspiration about Mr. Poe's "Valley Nis," which would be more attractive if his verses were smoother, and his subject matter less obscure and unintelligible. Mr. Poe will not consent to abide with ordinary mortals.

Upon the whole, the last number of the Messenger is one of decided merit.