| "'Tis not clearness—'tis not brightness Such as dwell in mountain brooks— 'Tis thy big, big boiling torrent— 'Tis thy wild and angry looks." |
This is altogether too bad. Eliza's Stanzas to "Greece" are very beautiful. She writes from Maine, and, with care and cultivation, will, by and by, do something worthy of the name to which she makes aspiration. So much for the poetry of the number; which neither in quantity or quality is equal to the last three or four.
In the "Editorial" department, we recognise the powerful discrimination of Mr. Poe. The dissection of "Paul Ulric," though well deserved, is perfectly savage. Morris Mattson, Esq. will hardly write again. This article will as surely kill him as one not half so scalpingly written did poor Keats, in the London Quarterly. The notice of Lieutenant Slidell's "American in England" we were glad to see. It is a fair offset to the coxcombical article (probably written by Norman Leslie Fay) which lately appeared in the New York Mirror, in reference to our countryman's really agreeable work. Bulwer's "Rienzi" is ably reviewed, and in a style to beget in him who reads it a strong desire to possess himself immediately of the book itself. There is also an interesting notice of Matthew Carey's Autobiography, and two or three other works lately published.
Under this head, there is, in the number before us, the best sketch of the character and life of Chief Justice Marshall we have as yet seen. This alone would make a volume of the Messenger valuable beyond the terms of subscription. It purports to be a Review of Story's, Binney's, and Snowden's Eulogies upon that distinguished jurist, while, in reality, it is a rich and pregnant Biography of "The Expounder of the Constitution."
The number closes with a most amusing paper containing twenty-five admirably executed fac simile autographs of some of the most distinguished of our literati. The equivoque of Mr. Joseph A. B. C. D. E. F. G. &c. Miller is admirably kept up, and the whimsical character of the pretended letters to which the signatures are attached is well preserved. Of almost all the autographs we can speak on our own authority, and are able to pronounce them capital.
Upon the whole, the number before us (entirely original) may be set down as one of the very best that has yet been issued.
From the Pennsylvanian.
The Southern Literary Messenger, published in Richmond, maintains its high character. The March number, however, which has just come to hand, would have been the better had the solid articles been relieved, as in the previous numbers, by a greater variety of contributions of a lighter cast. It is comparatively heavy, a fault which should be carefully avoided in a magazine intended for all sorts of readers. Sinning in the opposite direction would be much more excusable.