Text: Various, “Opinions of the Press,” Southern Literary Messenger (Richmond, VA), vol. II, no. 1, December 1835, covers

[rear cover, inside, continued:]

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

A Melancholy Moment, by B. B. M. is, we regret to say, inadmissible — chiefly on account of its having been published before. D. D. also, we are forced to reject. The V, by Thaddeus, is not suited to the Messenger. We are obliged to decline the communication of A. B. M. O. C. H's MS. is illegible. A Cosmopolite, and Sylvio, we have declined after much hesitation. Verses written during an excursion, &c. will appear in our next — also English Poetry, unavoidably postponed.

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OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.

The Southern Literary Messenger. — We have now before us the thirteenth number of this very excellent periodical, and though we have heretofore noticed it in terms of high approbation, cannot withhold our renewed testimony to its increasing merits. The present number, like all the preceding ones, is entirely original, not only in the subjects but in the manner of treating them. We see that the writers have consulted their own tastes, opinions and feelings; that they are not harnessed in the traces of imitation, nor enlisted under the despotism of fashionable notions, adopted without examination, and sanctioned only by popular names. Hence there is in almost all the articles an air of indigenous novelty which in itself is a high and distinguished excellence. — Periodicals, that effect to be the censors of public manners, the guides of the public taste, should not be the mere echoes of the opinions of others. They should stem the tide of false taste and injurious innovation, instead of going with the current, and accelerating, its force by precept and example. In short, they should think for themselves, and strive to inculcate just modes of thinking and acting in others. Instead of imitating the Blackwood and Fraser, and the New Monthly and the Metropolitan, we think it would be far better to adapt their columns to the uses of their own country. The style and the productions of old, corrupt and enervated persons, is not fit for the exigencies of a young, vigorous and growing people, still retaining all its primitive energies, and requiring an intellectual nourishment corresponding with its age, its habits, and its situation. We have much in our manners, habits and modes of living which requires the lash of satire; much of extravagance and false taste, which a well applied ridicule alone [column 2:] can correct or repress; and it is one of the first duties of a light miscellaneous periodical to launch its arrows against such transgressions. The fear of giving offence to the few, should never make them neglect the interests of the many, for their first object should be to benefit their country. By such a course alone, can they fulfil their high obligations, and we feel satisfied that by persevering in such a course, they would be eventually amply rewarded by public patronage.

The present number in some degree realizes our ideas of an American periodical. It is not the mere reflection of imported opinions, and imported manners. It is the product of the soil, and stamped with the lineaments of its nativity. It is not a mere distillation from memory, not the squeezings of the almost dry sponge of the old world, but the fresh and vigorous offspring of a soil which only requires cultivation to produce the richest products.

Among the articles which afforded us particular pleasure, we would notice “The Introductory Lecture of James M. Garnett of Virginia, on the subject of Education.” All the productions of Mr. Garnett that we have seen, abound in just reasonings, leading to important conclusions, applicable to his own country, and of most important practical consequence. The present lecture is devoted to an inquiry into the “Obstacles to education arising from the peculiar faults of parents, teachers, and scholars, and those who direct and control our schools and colleges.” The subject is particularly important, and we recommend Mr. Garnett's lecture to the calm considerate attention of all those whose faults he has detailed. It is the work of a man of deep reflection, great experience and of a powerful intellect, capable of turning the results of that experience to purposes of practical utility.

“Loss of Breath: A Tale à la Blackwood, by Edgar A. Poe,” is a capital burlesque of the wild, extravagant, disjointed rigmarole with which that much overrated and over-praised magazine is so redundant. The writer has hit off admirably the false, extravagant and exaggerated humor — the inconclusive nothings, and the rude baldness of so many of its articles, of which the beginning, the middle and the end is nothing. The reader finds it impossible to fathom the object, or could not develope it to the comprehension of common sense. We have our eye on Mr. Edgar A. Poe, and from what we have already seen of him, venture to predict it will not be long before his name will stand on a level with those of much higher pretensions. [rear cover, outside:]

The notice of “Stories about General Warren,” and the accompanying extracts, are peculiarly interesting, as giving various particulars of a man who has hitherto been only generally known as one of the earliest martyrs to the liberties of his country. This is the literary aliment which should be served up to our children, aye and our men and women too, in order to inspire them with noble feelings through the influence of noble examples.

There are many other articles in this number, which deserve equal notice and commendation, did our limits permit. But we must deny ourselves the pleasure of particularizing them, merely observing that in general the prose is better than the poetry, simply because the latter is somewhat vitiated by an imitation of bad models. Why will not our young poets attempt to describe their own feelings and impressions, instead of merely distilling in trickling namby-pamby, the thoughts of others, and sometimes no thought at all; or if they will condemn themselves to everlasting mediocrity by imitation, why will they not attempt better models? There are other poets in English language than Byron and Moore, who have superceded the old masters of the lyre, and will in less than half a century be superceded by them again. They are not to be dethroned from the empire of Parnassus, by these modern upstarts. The lofty morality, the unaffected simplicity, the philosophic dignity, and the beautiful appeals not only to our reason, but to the finer feelings of the human heart, which abound in the writers of the Golden Age of English poetry, are not we trust destined much longer to be obscured by the dark, vicious, licentious and laboured misanthropy of Byron, or the light, voluptuous sensuality of Moore. We shall one day return to nature and reason, and poetry will again become the handmaid of virtue.

There is an air of independence about the criticisms, which is becoming in all who undertake to preside in the courts of literature. But we differ entirely from some of the principles adopted by the Messenger. Most especially do we denounce the assertion of Victor Hugo, quoted, as we understand it with approbation by the critic, that Racine, Bossuet, Boileau, Pascal, Fenelon, La Fontaine, Corneille & Voltaire, would be but common writers were it not for their “style.” This is one of the new fangled French opinions fashionable in Paris, and in the true French sprit, places the ruffle before the shirt. It is an excrescence of the musical mania prevailing in that quarter, and is founded on the superiority of sound over sense, and of the ears over the understanding. It is analogous to the taste of a fine lady, who thinks much more of the dress of a man than of the man himself. Such opinions distinctly mark the decline of literature in France, and we do not wonder that Monsieur Victor Hugo should be considered a prodigy, among a people who prefer sound to sense.

But this is a trifling drawback on our general approbation. — The sister States, and Virginia most especially, should encourage the Literary Messenger. If she does not from a love of literature, she should do it from a regard to her own honor, which cannot be enhanced by having one of the best, if not the very best literary periodicals in America. — [N. York Courier and Enquirer.

The Southern Literary Messenger, No. 13, Vol. 1. — The entire volume of which this number forms the completion, is without an exception, (we do not forget the old Southern Review,) the most creditable to the literature of the South of any thing which in the shape of a periodical, has yet emanated from it. In the multitude of pieces which it contains, there is an immense profusion of talent, if we might so speak, and an amount of interesting and valuable reading scarcely to be met with in any other work of the same dimensions and character we could mention.

Of the number before us, which still preserve the splendid mechanical appearance which has distinguished the series, (far superior to that of any other magazine [column 2:] in the country,) we may say in general that it has more of the magazine and less of the pamphlet than most of its predecessors; an approximation to perfection which we esteem of higher value than it seems. The articles are of great variety as usual, and of various ability, some of them would adorn any periodical. The fine series of historical papers on the history of the Barbary powers is brought to the last hostile intercourse of Britain with Algiers, and is to be equally admired for its judicious and candid narrative, and for the justice of its historical inferences. In the view which it takes of British policy with reference to Algiers, we entirely concur, and the writer's charaterizing Lord Exmouth's bombardment of Algiers as a blunder similar to the “untoward” affair of Navarino is a bold manifestation of political acumen well sustained by fact.

“The Victim of Disappointment” is an imitation too servile, of one of Moore's best passages, to be praised; Garnett's lecture, contains many valuable hints in the way, but we do not care to say more about it, because, after all, it is a lecture, and in our opinion, as unsuitable to the magazine as a “philodemic” essay on the comparative merits of Cæsar and Alexander.

“Loss of Breath” is really a capital thing, well imagined, well sustained, and well told; and with some triteness in the main incident, of sufficient novelty to attract highly. “Cupid's Sport” is lively and clever, just the thing for such a sketch, while the “Lines on Mrs. —— ” and “Lines in an Album” should neither of them have been admitted, because, if the author of the former was sufficiently given to scandal to write them, he should not have been so impertinent as to publish them — and the latter should never have been rifled from the album which it adorned. “General Warren” is an article sufficiently readable and interesting, made out of the little Boston book about his life. We were perfectly enchanted with the exquisite poetry of “The Friends of Man,” and read each verse with higher pleasure than the last, until we came to the end, and there our wonder was at an end. “L. H. S.” would form a solution to much higher pleasure than we received even from the beauty of these verses, and it gives us much gratification to see the starry light of that muse shining so gracefully and so brightly in this Southern hemisphere.

Mrs. Sigourney is a poetess of exquisite, and yet truly feminine genius; in many respects, the Mrs. Hemans of the day, and in some even excelling her. “King Pest, the First” is told with spirit, and evinces talent though somewhat nonsensical towards the end. The “Letters from a Sister” preserve their vivacity and freshness; these are really as admirable specimens of epistolary description as we know any where. There is a sample of an interesting literary curiosity at all events, — a new translation of Homer, by “The late William Munford,” which, though it will not quite succeed in its ambitious design of supplanting Pope and Cowper, and, we suppose, Sotheby too, has some good rough points about it.

We are very glad to find the Southern Literary Messenger receives such distinguished encouragement and success. It is ably and judiciously edited, and is supported by a series of correspondents, one and all of greater talent than are to be met with in any magazine in the country. — [Georgetown Metropolitan.

Our notice of the last number of the SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER, was necessarily very brief. We had but a glance at its pages, though we gathered in that glance much to interest and delight us. The second volume will contain continuation of several most instructive and charming production; and the work will, therefore, doubtless retain most of its last year's patrons, with an accession of hundreds, who, by this time, must be fully aware of its merits and high claims to general patronage. In addition to the extension of the admirable “Sketches of Tripoli,” we shall have another, perhaps several hundreds, of Professor Dew's [additional text:] splendid “Dissertation on the Characteristic Differences between the Sexes,” worth alone a full year's subscription; “Another Visit to the Virginia Springs,” and the contributions of many writers who have already attained a high celebrity. In every point of view, this work is unsurpassed by any in the country, whether we take the quality or quantity of matter, the style of execution, or the variety and interest of the subjects discussed. The literary pride of our country surely will not suffer it to languish.

Before closing this notice, we must allude to an article in the last number, which gave us unalloyed amusement, and which we esteem one of the most admirable specimens of brilliant fancy, and apt description which we have ever read. It is “KING PEST THE FIRST,” containing an Allegory. There can be no mistake in attributing it to the prolific pen of Edgar A. Poe, whose talent in imaginative productions, is not excelled by any writer of his age in this country. We say this from no motive of interest or partiality, for we have scarcely an acquaintance with the author, but from the sincere opinion that he posseses [[possesses]] talents and attainments of the first order, which he should persevere in using for the public benefit, regardless alike of the detractions of the envious, or the sneers of the critic race, who “hate the excellence they cannot reach.” — [Compiler.

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The Southern Literary Messenger. — The 13th number, which closes the first volume of this excellent publication, is before us, and we are happy to see that a full index of the contents of the volume accompanies it. The Messenger is now no longer an experiment. Its course is onward, and, if we do not deceive ourselves, it is destined to assume a high rank among the periodicals of the present day. But the editor must look to the articles which receive his imprimatur. He must endeavor to excite a fondness for the really good in literature — seek to obtain from able men essays on popular topics, to be written with due preparation — and especially must he give the go-by to a host of little squibbers, who glory in nothing but the noise and smoke of their own crackers. The editor of a literary Journal may do what the editor of a daily paper never can — he may shape each number of his work, in some measure according to the abstract idea of excellence — but an editor of a daily paper might offend half of his subscribers by publishing an article of intrinsic worth merely. A trifling essay, too, always injures a literary work — albeit it may boast a distinguished paternity in the fashionable world. Indeed it requires an almost infinite degree of talent to trifle handsomely — we pray to be defended from any thing like the reverse. The Messenger has done much already, and is calculated to accomplish a great deal of good in the Southern country. The exertions of Mr. White will greatly tend to cherish a taste for elegant literature — and he has only to go forward availing himself freely of his growing experience in the conduct of a literary journal, and he will not only reap pecuniary profit, but entitle himself to the reputation of a public benefactor. We have not read the present number with sufficient care to justify us in speaking freely concerning it. — [Norfolk Beacon.

The Southern Literary Messenger. — We mentioned last week that we had only time to acknowledge the receipt of the 13th number, being the last of the first volume, of this valuable work. Accompanying this number is a title page and index to the whole.

Neither our time, nor our limits will now permit us to do justice to this elegant Magazine. The number before us, is inferior to none of its predecessors, and when we say that it is among the best, if not the very best of the literary publications of the day, we do not think we exaggerate. When we get hold of it too, we feel assured that we are not only going to find something good, but something new — original, not hacknied articles which have been going the rounds, since the days of Nebuchadnezzar. It would require more space, than [column 2:] we can spare, to articles in the present number in detail. All we can do is to speak of them as a whole, and this we can do in few words — they are good — very good; if our readers doubt, let them subscribe for it and judge for themselves. If they think with us, let them subscribe — they will get the worth of their money. [[—]] [Camden (S. C.) Journal.

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Southern Literary Messenger. — We have received the 13th number of this beautiful and able periodical, which is the last of the first volume, and is accompanied by a handsome title page and copious index. Its contents, (the table of which will be found, as usual, in our advertising columns,) are delightfully varied and interesting, and fully sustain the high character of the work. We have neither time nor room to refer to them more particularly at present, but may perhaps do so hereafter. The following flattering notice is from the able editors of the National Intelligencer; and we are gratified to perceive that the work has elicited the highest encomiums from many of the first journals in the country. The Southern people ought to be proud of it, and encourage every possible improvement of it, by the most liberal patronage.

“We received a few days ago the thirteenth number (being the closing number of the first volume) of Mr. White's Southern Literary Messenger. — From a cursory perusal of its contents, it strikes us as one of the best, if not the best, of the whole series. This is honorable to the spirit of the contributors who have so far successfully sustained the work, as the work itself is creditable to the literature of the South. This elegant and entertaining periodical may now be considered as having established its claims to the public support, and we cannot doubt that it will be supported with increased liberality. Many of the best pens in the country are regularly employed in imparting interest and instruction to its pages.” — (Augusta Chronicle.

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Southern Literary Messenger. — The first volume of this admirable periodical is now completed with the publication of the 13th number, which came to hand a few days since. We often feel called upon — sometimes by our particular partialities and sometimes by the necessities of the case, to speak a good word for the publications of the day. But really here is a periodical which requires no adventitious aid from partial friends, and cannot fail to stand firm upon its own positive and obvious merits. Mr. White, the publisher, has laid some very able pens under contribution, to enrich his work; and so far as literary merit is involved, we do not think it need fear a comparison with any similar publication in the country. In all that relates to mechanical execution, we place it decidedly at the head of the list. It is a periodical exhibiting in various departments striking intellectual ability, and master minds, and withal beautifully printed, on good white paper. It has passed the ordeal — It has undergone the ‘year's probation,’ with honor, and is now an established work. As such we hail it, and trust that it play go on to accumulate its titles to public regard, and to increase the sphere of its usefulness — both “consummations devoutly to be wished” by its friends, and not unlikely to be realized, since the last number issued is one among the best of the series. — [Balt. Patriot.

Southern Literary Messenger. — The 13th number of this work just published, completes the first volume of this publication, the success of which is a sure proof of its merits as a literary periodical. It contains a number of well-written and interesting articles, among which, we may mention the Sketches of Tripoli, the Essay on Education, Stories of General Warren, and Mr. Poe's tale of “Loss of Breath.” The poetry is in general excellent, and the critical notices are distinguished by candor and liberality. Altogether this periodical reflects the highest credit on the literary talent of the South. [[—]] [Phil. Sat. Eve. Post. [next page:]

Magazines in America. — The “New England” is in a galloping consumption: it should have lived longer for the credit of its name, — but “no man can serve two masters” — and politics do not chime euphoniously with belles lettres. The “American Monthly,’‘ is a sober, clever, and perhaps a heavy rival. Dearborn of New York has taken it up. Hoffman is its editor. It has kept its own from the commencement, and will keep its own to the end, it is to be hoped. The “Knickerbocker,” was catchpennyish on a small scale, in the outset of its career, and under the charge of its talented editors, the Clarkes, it is still catchpennyish, though on a larger scale. It is making too much of a mint of its English contributors. It is a shame that a Magazine should owe any thing of success to such a clap-trap. — The “Southern” is the best Magazine in the country. It is printed at Richmond and comes out monthly, in a beautiful type, and full of entertaining matter. One Poe (“Phœbus! what a name!’’) is its chief contributor, — perhaps its editor. The (Bangor) “Eastern” is a young, and we are inclined to think is destined to be a short lived, bantling of this numerous family, and so will be “The Portland,’‘ unless the people of our City and State come forward to its support more warmly. — Its editress writes too much-no one can write well, who is always writing, — cacoethes scribendi is not literary aspiration, — and words are not always literature. Such is a rapid glance at the Magazines of America. [[—]] [Portland Advertiser.

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The Southern Literary Messenger. — This work, issued at Richmond in Virginia, is, we believe, the first Magazine that has appeared south of the famous line, so often mentioned in the speeches of the justly celebrated John Randolph, of Roanoke. It is a little singular that a portion of our Union, so rich in talent, and learning, and leisure, as the Ancient Dominion, did not long ago contribute in this way to enlarge and illustrate our republic of letters. Material for biographical and historical notices must be abundant in Virginia, whilst essays on various topics of permanent and passing interest, scientific and moral, could easily have been furnished by her ready writers, if a medium for their diffusion had been before established. About a year since, the Messenger made its appearance, and it has certainly been well sustained thus far, having reached the thirteenth number. The intelligent and worthy proprietor, T. W. White, has shown great zeal and industry in his department, which not only included the duties of editor to a certain extent, but also those of printer, to which honorable profession he belongs. The mechanical execution of the work is entitled to much commendation, and we think it highly deserving of the patronage of our countrymen, in every view we can take of its various merits. [[—]] [American Sentinel.

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We received a few days ago, the Southern Literary Messenger, for September, which completes the first volume of that excellent periodical. We are gratified to learn from the publisher's notice that the pecuniary have equalled the acknowledged merits of the literary contributions to the Messenger, and that his endeavors to please, which to our knowledge have been arduous and unremitting, have been crowned with success. The Messenger has now acquired a reputation upon which the publisher may fairly rest his claim to the continued patronage of the public for the forthcoming volume, which, he promises “shall in no respect be behind, if it does not greatly outstrip its predecessor.” [[—]] [Norfolk Herald.

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The 13th number of the Southern Literary Messenger, which completes the first volume, has just been issued from the press, and teems with its usual quantum of rich and delightful literature. We have relieved the languor of a sick couch by poring busily over its contents; but we have not had sufficient time to read each article with the care and attention necessary to pronounce opinions [column 2:] confidently. We were exceedingly amused with Poe's story, à la Blackwood, entitled “ Loss of Breath,” and have been delighted with several of the poetical scraps, one of which will be given to-morrow. The first part of “Another Visit to the Virginia Springs,” will afford unalloyed pleasure and interest, and will sharpen the appetite of the reader for its continuance. The writer well knows how to group the ludicrous incidents of a watering place — and take off the imaginary ills and fancied comforts of fashionable life.

We may have occasion to revert to this work, and notice other articles which deserve examination. In the meanwhile, we can safely pronounce the present number worthy of companionship with its predecessors. [[—]] [Richmond Compiler.

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Southern Literary Messenger. — We have long had it in contemplation to notice this capital work and should have done so long since, had it been sent to us. Upon its first appearance we felt proud that our State had at length produced a literary periodical that bid fair to do full honor to its birth place. But now, when it has gone “forth in its strength, has brilliantly realized the warmest and fondest anticipations of its friends, and has taken its place in the foremost rank of the periodicals of the Union, and thus reflected enviable honor upon the State, we cannot avoid expressing our earnest congratulations to the proprietor, while we wonder at the slender support for which we believe it is indebted to Western Virginia! Every citizen who pretends to read at all, and who takes delight in the prosperity and welfare of the “Old Dominion” ought to take the work, and determine to sustain it. If they would sustain Virtue and Morality on a broad scale, let them support the LITERATURE of the Commonwealth.

We think the proprietor of the Messenger has not taken as much pains as he might have done to secure patronage in the Western section of the State, and we feel as anxious that the West should have it, as that the work should be supported. There is no agency in this place, and we believe (and are ashamed to own it) that but a single copy comes to our post office, and that is taken by a gentleman formerly of Eastern Virginia. — [Parkersburg Republican.

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Southern Literary Messenger. — We have heartily re- commended this work upon the strength of two numbers. Having now seen the whole, instead of seeing reason to qualify what we then said, we are rather inclined to say more — much more in its favor. It is a work which the South may well be proud of — let the North say what it will. And by this we mean, as every body who knows our opinion of the South, and of the men of the South, may well believe, a compliment worth having. Still — it depends upon them whether the Southern Literary Messenger, (hang the title!) be or be not fifty times better than it is now. [[—]] [New England Galaxy.

We publish this morning from the Southern Literary Messenger the tale entitled, “King Pest the First,” which we spoke of a few days since in noticing the last number of the Messenger. The article, seems generally, and we believe justly attributed to the pen of Mr. Edgar A. Poe, our townsman, whose productions have met almost universal approbation from the critical press. In King Pest, the evils and maladies attendant upon intemperance are well portrayed in the allegorical personages who group around the drinking table of the monarch “Tim Hurlygurly.” — Indeed few of Mr. P's tales are without aim or a moral; “Hans Phaal” was a burlesque upon the mania for ballooning — “Lionizing;” upon the rage for making a Lion of every contemptible pretender to fashion, or small authorship — “Loss of Breath” is evidently a burlesque on the extravagant and rigmarole species of writing so prevalent in the pages of Blackwood. — [Compiler.