Text: Edgar Allan Poe (?), Literary, Broadway Journal (New York), May 17, 1845, vol. 1, no. 20, p. ???-???


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[page 316, column 1, continued:]

THE MAGAZINES.

THE SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER for May, has, among other good papers, a caustic review of Captain Wilkes’ Narrative of the U. S. Exploring Expedition. The overbearing conceit, the ignorance and the tyranny of the Commander, are here displayed as they should be — and we recommend the whole article to his serious attention. More ludicrous instances of incompetency were never afforded by any American naval officer than by him. Neither his discretion nor [column 2:] a kind that must bring a flush of shame into the face of every American who reads the book. What but the grossest obtusity combined with the most ineffable conceit and self-sufficiency, could have induced Captain Wilkes to trust his composition to the public eye without the supervision of his clerk — or of some respectable school-boy? We give a brace of his sentences:

“Harmony and good feeling he would enjoin upon all: the necessity of cultivating this, and the united exertions of all, cannot claim too much of your attention.”

“You may rest assured also of receiving impartial justice from me, and that in the assignment of duties and promotions, if any should occur! and that all will have the opportunities they desire of entering upon the scientific duties, nothing shall be wanting that can tend to this end.”

This number has also a paper of much historical interest — a “Sketch of the Military services of Guilford Dudley in the Carolinas during the Revolution.” A criticism on the Poems of Christopher Pease Cranch is not particularly to our taste. It is better, however, than the commentary on Miss Barrett which appeared in a late number of the Messenger, and which, as far as we can learn, excited no less decided a feeling than universal contempt wherever it was perused by those who are themselves poetical. This is a topic on which we could not forbear speaking out if we would. It is in our opinion, something even worse than sacrilege — this entrusting to such hands the august works of Tennyson and Miss Barrett. For our own part, we cannot find words to express the unutterable loathing which crept over us as we read those flippant comments on poems which, if we are entitled to estimate the merit of anything by its effect on the greatest intellects and on the noblest hearts — are divine, if there be any divinity within the soul of man.

There is no poetry in the May number of the Messenger.

GODEY’S LADY’S BOOK fur June is, also, already issued, and presents numerous claims to attention. Its engravings are, “Admonition,” by Gimbrede, from a painting by W. Wright; “Domestic life among the Indians,” by Ralph and Jewett, from a design by Darley; and two fashion plates on the same leaf, back to back. Miss Leslie concludes her very excellent story “The Bloxheim's and Mayfields.” Herbert has an eloquent sketch, entitled “The Great Plebeian” — Grund some forcible “Remarks upon [on’ the Drama” — William Kirkland a sensible paper (with some exception) on “British and American Monthlies,” and “French without a Master,” is a good hit by the late J. M. Field. The Rev. H. F. Harrington contributes a very interesting and well written sketch — “ The Lone Woman.” In the “Editors’ Table” is a page of comment on the death of Mrs. Willis — a page which we read with an interest the most painful — the most profound.

GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE for June is in all respects an admirable number. Its engravings are all good, and the view of Rock Mountain, engraved by Rawdon & Co. from a drawing by Smillie, is, in especial, excellent. The other two plates are “The Masquerade,” engraved by Posselwhite, and a Portrait of Dr. Rufus W. Griswold, engraved by Parker, from a painting by J. B. Read: as a likeness, the latter is by no means praiseworthy. Mr. Griswold has a much finer face in every respect. The biography attached is written, we fancy, by Mr. C. F. Hoffman, and does Mr. G. no more than justice, either in regard to his acquirements or character as a man. We learn from this sketch that he “has now in press, a Survey of our Prose Literature, to be published in the ensuing autumn,” and that he “has been a considerable time engaged [page 317:] on the Biographia Americana, a work of great extent and research.”

The number is particularly rich in contributions. There are papers from Cooper, Paulding, Longfellow, Hoffman, Street, Tuckerman, Chandler, Hosmer, Mrs. Osgood, Mrs. Stephens, Mrs. Seba Smith, Fanny Forrester, Mrs. Caroline Butler, and several others. A Sonnet to Dante by Longfellow, has a magnificent beginning:

Tuscan, that wanderest through the realms of gloom

With thoughtful pace and sad majestic eyes,

Stern thoughts and awful from thy soul arise

Like Farinata from his fiery tomb!

The “Like,” however, should be “As.” We copy in full a characteristic poem from the pen of the most truly graceful, delicate, and yet impassioned of American poetesses — Mrs. Osgood.

LULU.

THERE's many a maiden

More brilliant, by far,

With the step of a fawn,

And the glance of a star;

But heart there was never

More tender and true,

Than beats m the bosom

Of darling Lulu!

Her eyes are too modest

To dazzle; but oh!

They win you to love her,

If you will or no!

And when they glance up,

With their shy, startled look,

Her soul trembles in them,

Like light in the brook.

There are bright eyes by thousands,

Black, hazel and blue;

But whose are so loving

As those of Lulu?

And waves of soft hair,

That a poet would vow

Was moonlight on marble,

Droop over her brow.

The rose rarely blooms,

Thro’ that light, silken maze,

But when it does play there,

How softly it plays!

Oh! there's many a maiden,

More brilliant ‘t is true,

But none so enchanting,

As little Lulu!

She flits, like a fairy,

About me all day,

Now nestling beside me,

Now up and away

She singeth unbidden,

With warble as wild

As the lay of the meadow lark,

Innocent child!

She's playful, and tender,

And trusting, and true,

She's sweet as a lily,

My dainty Lulu.

She whispers sweet fancies,

Now mournful, now bright,

Then deepen her glances,

With love and delight,

And the slow, timid smile,

That dawns in her face,

Seems filled with her spirit's

Ineffable grace.

Oh! the world cannot, offer

A treasure so true,

As the childlike devotion

Of happy Lulu!


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Notes:

This review was attributed as being by Poe by W. D. Hull.

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[S:0 - BJ, 1845] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Criticism - Literary (Poe?, 1845)