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.