The Critical Notices are much to our taste—decided in their character, correct (as we think) in judgment, and lashing dullness, as it always deserves to be lashed, with a cat-o'-nine-tails.
Major Noah says—
The Southern Literary Messenger for December. Richmond, Va.: T. W. White, Proprietor. We have repeatedly called the attention of our literary friends to this excellent periodical, now commencing the second volume, and sustaining its deservedly acquired reputation. It is not only the neatest in typographical execution—in whiteness of paper and elegance of type, of any American publication of the kind, but contains also a greater amount of useful and entertaining original matter, both in prose and poetry—especially the latter, which, taken en masse, is quite different from the namby-pamby trash that is spreading like an epidemic over the republic of letters—choking and smothering with its noxious weeds those gems and flowers of purer mould, which are the offspring and inspiration of nature and of genius. The "Sketches of the Barbary States," are written by an able pen, and are full of valuable historical details. The lines to "October," by Eliza, of Maine, possess the vein of true poetry; the tenderness and the luxuriant imagery of some of Mrs. Hemans'. How rich the pageantry of some of the author's thoughts when describing the gorgeous tints of an autumnal foliage:
| "And the rays of glorious sunshine there in saddening lustre fall— 'Tis the funeral pageant of a king with his gold and crimson pall." |
The "Broken Heart," by Eliza, of Richmond, is a failure. She must not attempt blank verse for common-place subjects. The verses on "Halley's Comet" are smooth and passable. The "Reminiscences of Mexico" might as well have been omitted. These diaries and guide books, are "stale, flat, and unprofitable." If the writer had given us some insight into the mysterious ruins and antiquities of Mexico—its romantic traditions—we would have thanked him. The theme is exciting and absorbing, and would have been new, and a glorious prize for immortality. Mr. Poe's "Unpublished Drama" does not suit our taste. Why eternally ring the changes on those everlasting and hackneyed Venetian Doges and Italian Counts—latticed balconies, and verandas—time out of mind exhausted? The "Address on Education" is puerile, crude, and common-place. We cannot discover its "brilliant eloquence" nor "impressive energy," spoken of in the critical notice. The object of it was well enough. The "Wissahiccon," properly handled, might have been wrought into a stirring historical portrait. The lines to "Memory," are pretty. Those entitled "Macedoine," have much fire and power. But "Lionel Granby," is a redeeming chapter worth all the foregoing. Why not give one-third the magazine to so accomplished a writer, so original a thinker? The "Dream," is good poetry, for blank verse, which is saying much. But the "Sketch," by A. L. Beard, M.D. is superlatively beautiful in melody of rhythm and truth to nature. Thus:
| "The red-breast, mounted on some tow'ring tree, Is chanting loud his merry, mirthful strain; And the sweet lark's melodious notes of glee, Are softly floating o'er the dewy plain. From the broad fields which wave with golden grain, Echoes the whistle of the timid quail; And the loud laughter of the reaper train Sweeps wildly by, borne on the passing gale O'er woodland hill afar, and flowery-vested vale." |
The lines to "Mira" are smooth and full of tender feeling. The Critical Notices are full as they should be on American productions, and written with uncommon spirit. The decisions are generally correct, and we are glad to see the censures so unsparingly, but judiciously directed against the mawkish style and matter of those ephemeral productions with which, under the name of chef-d'œuvres in novel writing, the poor humbugged public are so unmercifully gagged and bamboozled.
From the Petersburg Intelligencer.
The Southern Literary Messenger.—We have to acknowledge the receipt of the first No. of the second volume of the Southern Literary Messenger, published at Richmond, by T. W. WHITE, and beg to call the attention of the public to this highly valuable and now well established periodical. The enterprising and indefatigable proprietor, has overcome the obstacles which have generally, hitherto, thwarted the efforts of those who have attempted to rear up a respectable Literary Journal in the South, and has the proud satisfaction of being hailed as the founder of a work, which is admitted by the Press, on every hand, to be one of the most agreeable and interesting in the Union. He has evidently spared no expense in carrying out his design of making the "Messenger" worthy of the reputation of the "Old Dominion," and the number before us, is, in all respects, unquestionably one of the most beautiful specimens of the art of printing we have ever witnessed. So much for the mere medium, or vehicle, by which mind is made to commune with mind. Those who would wish to form a just estimate of the merits of this work, must look beyond its beautiful and delicate outward garb, into the rich and varied contents of its pages. The Editor has certainly drawn to his aid some of the finest pens in the State; and although the real authors are not given, yet we are convinced, that conclusively as many of the articles "speak for themselves," if names were added, they would lose none of their interest, from the known paternity of distinguished writers.