Text: Edgar Allan Poe (ed. B. R. Pollin), “The Broadway Journal (January 1846),” The Collected Writings of Edgar Allan Poe — Vol. III: Broadway Journal (Text) (1986), pp. 358-360 (This material is protected by copyright)

[page 358, continued:]

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Critical Notices.

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(b) Letters and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell. By THOMAS CARLYLE. In 2 vols. New York: Wiley & Putnam. (358/12-29 & 359/1-15)

A most valuable work this is — from the intrinsic merit of the letters and speeches it contains, and not from the rhapsodical, really run-mad comments of Carlyle. Yet, even with this addition, the work is a desirable one. No published memoirs, that we have yet seen, so clearly exhibit the man Cromwell, the bold, iron-willed ruler, as these transcripts of his inner soul. Now, that attention is called to the man and his times, by the discussion concerning the propriety or impropriety of placing his statue in the new Parliament House of England, his letters and speeches become of a double interest.

The character and purposes of Cromwell seem to have been as singularly misunderstood as those of the third Richard. Cromwell was an ambitious, bold and unscrupulous man, who changed through circumstances. At first he was a republican, and bent his whole energies and his giant intellect — giant even among the intellectual Anakims of that day — to achieve a model [page 359:] commonwealth. But, once obtaining power, he naturally grew to be a tyrant. He was, for all that, a good king, so far as the external interests of the country were concerned; and his politic administration of public affairs contrasts favorably with that of any king who preceded or followed him on the English throne. We call him “king,” for, lord protector only in name, he was monarch in fact.

We always esteemed Cromwell the more for the manner in which he routed that scum of hypocritical rascals, the Rump Parliament. It is a pity for his memory that a man like Carlyle should have engaged in the edition of his letters and speeches, and we recommend readers to note only the text of the book before us, and let the comments alone.

The volume is very neatly got up, as all of the series — Library of Choice Reading — of which it forms a part, are.

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(a) The Pilgrim in the Shadow of the Jungfrau. By GEO. B. CHEEVER, D. D. New York and London: Wiley & Putnam. (359/16-24)

Dr. Cheever dedicates his book to Richard H. Dana, whom he calls, in the dedication, “the poet of ‘Daybreak’ “— why, we cannot for our life conceive. The book itself is Cheeverish — if we may coin a phrase — in the extreme. It has a great deal of descriptive merit, is full of blunders of composition, and abuses the Catholics right roundly. The quotations made, and frequently introduced, show considerable taste.

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(b) The Lady of Milan, or Fidelity unto Death. Edited by MRS. THOMSON, Author of “Widows and Widowers,” “Ragland Castle,” “The Chevalier,” &c., &c. New York: Harper & Brothers, 82 Cliff street. (359/25-34)

A work abounding with stirring incidents and some force. The characters are very well made out. If our memory serves us right in this matter, this book is a rather free translation of — Marguerite Pusterhla” — a work which appeared in the numbers of “L‘Illustration,” a year or two since. We liked it in its French and scarcely like it less in the present shape.

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(c) Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, for December. — New York: Leonard Scott & Co. (359/35-45)

This is the American reprint. The present number contains Marlborough, Part II. — The Student of Salamanca, Part II — White's Three Years in Constantinople — The Mountain and the Cloud — The Second Pandora — The Reign of George the Third — Passages concerning Omens, Dreams, Appearances, &c. — A Mother to her Forsaken Child — Summer Noontide — To Clara — Seclusion — The Last Hours of a Reign — and the Scottish Harvest. The papers are remarkably dull, and the poetry especially bad.

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(d) Harper's Illuminated Bible, No. 46.

This number contains the conclusion of the Gospel of St. John and the commencement of the Acts of the Apostles. We have already exhausted words of commendation in noticing this really standard and elegant work.

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(e) “The Aristidean, for November.” “The Aristidean for December,” by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH and numerous collaborators. (359/51-59 & 360/1-9)

These two numbers have been lying on our table for some time, and we have not been able to give them a proper notice. The November number contains some especially bold and racy articles — among the rest, a stirring tale called “Ferrando the Avenger.” The poetry is not so good as usual, which is a pity, as the “Aristidean” has hitherto held an unquestionable preeminence [page 360:] in that way. There is a queer paper, “The Dearborn Poems,” which contains some piquant satire. The article on American Poetry,” is very biting, but, unfortunately, very true. There is a very able and dignified article “On the Penalty of Death.” The hook notices are spirited and independent, and the remaining articles are above the mass of magazine papers, in quality. One of these we extract below; we believe it to be from the pen of Herman S. Saroni. It is, unquestionably, very original, in conception and execution.

(Three columns of “The Self-performers” follow.)

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Editorial Miscellany.

(a) THE BROADWAY JOURNAL may be obtained in the City of New York of the following agents: Taylor, Astor House; Crosby, Exchange, William street; Graham, Tribune Buildings; Lock wood, Broadway and Grand; and Burgess & Stringer, Ann and Broadway.

A very few sets of the first volume are still for sale at the office, 304 Broadway.

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VALEDICTORY. (360/17-24)

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(b) UNEXPECTED engagements demanding my whole attention, and the objects being fulfilled, so far as regards myself personally, for which “The Broadway Journal” was established, I now, as its editor, bid farewell — as cordially to foes as to friends.

Mr. Thomas H. Lane is authorized to collect all money due the Journal.

EDGAR A. POE.

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(c) ONE Of the most wonderful pieces of mechanism ever produced through mental conception is now exhibiting at Philadelphia, and will be shortly to be shown in this city. We allude to the speaking automaton of Herr Faber — an invention, after seventeen years of labor, almost perfected by the ingenious inventor. It is not a machine to labor through easy words of two syllables, indistinctly made out at that. It enunciates distinctly, at the will of the performer, any words or combinations of words; and can even sing, in perfect imitation of a man. It has excited the attention of scientific men at Philadelphia; and their investigation has led them to implicit belief in its merits as a work of art.