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LITERARY NOTICES.

WASHINGTON IRVING.

We have noticed, with regret, the continuation, in the Southern Literary Messenger, of the articles which so unreasonably reflect upon our distinguished minister at the court of Spain. A more unimportant and exaggerated discussion we have seldom perused. To one acquainted with the facts in the case, it requires some degree of patience to dwell upon the subject. We are induced to refer to it chiefly because we have observed, with no little mortification, that there is a contemptible spirit of fault-finding at work (the motive of which it is difficult to imagine), that ignobly aims at sullying the untarnished laurels of Washington Irving. It is too late for any such purpose to succeed, even in a limited degree. The fame of the author of the "Sketch Book" is too dear to the hearts of Americans, his character for high principle and disinterestedness, is too widely and intimately known, for public confidence to be shaken in regard to either. The insinuations recently put forth, come with a peculiarly ill grace when their illustrious object is absent upon a mission-his appointment to which affords the best evidence of the high respect of his countrymen. One would infer, from the tone of the articles in the Messenger, that Navarette was an injured man and Mr. Irving a plagiarist. Now, what are the facts? Simply these. When Alexander H. Everett was our minister at Spain, he became acquainted with Navarette. The latter had been for years assiduously engaged in collating ancient chronicles for facts relative to the life and voyages of Columbus. It occurred to Mr. Everett that it would be desirable to have an English translation of the work prepared. He therefore wrote to Mr. Irving, then at Bordeaux, and suggested the undertaking to him. Mr. Irving repaired to Madrid, with the intention of translating Navarette's work. Upon examination, however, he found it rich in material, but wholly unfit for the purpose he contemplated. It consisted of a mass of details carefully gathered from various sources, but neither digested nor arranged in a manner adapted to popular biography. The idea then occurred to Mr. Irving to write a life of Columbus, making use, of course, of the facts thus collated by the Spanish historian. He prosecuted the design much to the satisfaction of Navarette, who, instead of feeling aggrieved, was most happy that his materials were thus made subservient to a useful and tasteful object. Mr. Irving did not, however, by any means, confine himself to the work of Navarette. He availed himself of every source of information within his reach, and toiled with a faithfulness and skill, of which his Life of Columbus is itself the best evidence. In the preface to that and other works, he

justly acknowledges his obligations to Navarette, referring to his chronicles as the foundation of his own work. We should like to know if a biographer is expected to invent his facts? Are the materials of his work to be drawn from the written and traditionary records of the past, or manufactured by a prolific fancy? The merit and interest of Irving's Life of Columbus consist in its beautiful style, the graceful flow of the narrative, the judicious reflections and felicitous arrangement, and the fidelity of the writer to truth. Our concern is to know if he has sought the best channels of information,and if he is certain of his facts. Mr. Irving was not only justified-he performed a duty in making use of Navarette's researches. The question is, did he make a good use of them? The literary world have long cordially agreed that he did. The idea, then, of thus playing the champion for Navarette is perfectly Quixotic. In a subsequent publication, the Spanish chronicler expresses the kindliest interest in Mr. Irving. Prescott, Bancroft, and every historian who faithfully consults the records of the past, might be censured with equal justice. These hypercritical objections to Mr. Irving are as absurd as the one recently preferred by a Philadelphia magazine, and will, upon examination, prove equally groundless. In that instance, he was charged with puffing his own books in British reviews, and various instances were specified. Upon consulting the periodicals referred to, no such articles appeared. The only circumstance which gave even a shadowy foundation to the charge, was that two years after the Chronicle of Grenada came out, Mr. Murray, the publisher, stated to Mr. Irving that the work was regarded by many as wholly imaginative, and he wished to have the historical grounds upon which it was based, clearly stated. No one was so capable of doing this as the author. He complied with the request, and whoever will turn to the review will find that not a laudatory word is used. The article is illustrative and explanatory, like one of Walter Scott's prefaces, and would form a good appendix to the original work. We think Mr. Irving has consulted his self-respect in declining any formal reply to such attacks. We have reason to know that when his attention was called to them, he asked a literary friend to read them in his behalf, and inform him if they required any personal response. That friend assured him they did not, and in that opinion we doubt not the public will coincide.

THE AGE OF GOLD, and other Poems. By George Lunt. Boston: William D. Ticknor. 1843. This little work is executed in the same chaste

and handsome style as the poems of Motherwell and Tennyson, issued by the same publisher. Mr. Lunt is a vigorous writer of verse. The spirit of his muse is always healthful and kindly. He does not excel in fancifulness or graphic details, but is rather distinguished for correct and often forcible thought and true sentiment. The subject of the principal poem in the volume before us is admirably suited to the times. It is a judicious and, in many respects, eloquent protest against the prevailing devotion to gain. It opens with the praise of the golden age, when

With equal flame each kindred bosom glowed, Nor this one reaped what that with toil had sowed.

And it proceeds to unfold the absurdities and perversions incident to the exclusive pursuit of wealth. There are two themes upon which the poet is especially indignant, wherein he cannot but win the sympathy of every right-minded reader. We allude to the audacious insensibility of dishonest bankrupts, and the unchristian war waged by England in China. The main topic is happily introduced :

The Golden Age! alas, let truth be told,
The age we live in is the Age of Gold!
Slaves to the sordid and relentless dust,
Mammon our idol, gathered ore our trust,
Not on the crowded mart or busy quay,
Where Traffic's sons hold undisputed sway,-
Not there alone the mighty passion rules
The heads of wise men and the hearts of fools,
But spreading broadly through the general mind,
Infects the race and desecrates mankind.

A failure in old times is well contrasted with one of more recent occurrence, and the probity of our fathers commended,-when the debtor

- paid each coin of borrowed pelf, And left no man a beggar but himself.

There is a warm allusion to the poet's "golden words"

Coined in his fiery heart in silence deep, Alone amid a weary world asleep :

and a fine touch of description in the sketch of a hunter reposing by his fireside, after the chase,who

His trusty friend, well tried, once more would try, Down its brown barrel aims his curious eye.

The Miser is painted at full length, as The school-boy's moral, marvel of the wise, Jest of the world and riddle of the skies.

Avarice the poet represents as the besetting sin of our republic, and he appeals with earnestness to that sense of national honor which is the more to be cherished because, in this young country,

-no proud castles frown along the land,
Nor feudal halls dispense the wide command;
No long-drawn galleries-graced by elder art,
Can touch the fancy or refine the heart;

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Nature still surrounds us, ever true

To claim the soul's responses for her due;
Where the broad mountain lifts his hoary crown,
Or autumn suns the waving fields imbrown
Where with one moan perpetual ocean swells,
Or moonlit fountains gush in fairy dells,
And heaven's rejoicing bridegroom downward dips,
To meet the kiss of twilight's dewy lips.

Like almost all elaborate didactic poems, the "Age of Gold" is unequal in point of interest and style. There are several illegitimate rhymes, and occasional carelessness of expression and mediocrity of thought; but, as a whole, it is very creditable to its author both in a literary and moral point of view, At the close, a most feeling tribute is paid by the poet to the memory of one whose early and irreparable loss woke to a melancholy and moving strain the harp whose most cheering melody she had so often inspired. We cannot forbear quoting the entire passage:

Thus runs the lay; and now the lyre is broke;
Fled the sweet spell that all its impulse woke;
No more I strive to string the shattered chords,
Or fling its music round my faltering words:
Thou, thou art dead! In vain, in vain I hear
Hope's whisper chide the unavailing tear;
Alas,-what voice that sorrow shall restrain
Which weeps forever since it weeps in vain!
Oh, what avails, though all the world approve
The verse, that only flowed to meet thy love,-
Thy love, that cheered each task my heart begun,
And well rewarded every labor done!

The living spirit and the soul of thought,
Whose heart corrected all that genius taught;
Whose generous mind, fresh with immortal youth,
Each thought a virtue, and each impulse truth,
With every goodness every charm could blend,
Till half forgot the lover in the friend;
By nature's dowry sweet with every grace,
Yet found content in life's sequestered place;
The guileless path of simple wisdom trod
Where flowers of heaven allure the way to God;
In modest worth shrank backward from the throng,
And lived the lowly doctrine of my song!
From thee each charm my inspiration caught,
Prompted by thee the lay: and I, that thought
To dedicate it to thy living heart,
Lay it upon thy bier! Henceforth apart
Scarce seem the portals of the earth and sky,
Since such as thou could live and love and die.

Of the miscellaneous poems in this volume, several are characterized by terseness and spirit, such as "The Departure of the Frigate," "The Brave Old World," and "The Skater." Mr. Lunt has evidently formed his taste on the old English models, a much more genial standard for the American mind than can be found either in German vagueness or the liquid softness of the muse of the "sweet south." We have been struck with the manly simplicity and pure Saxon diction which constitute the peculiar merit of many of these verses. The example is both good and seasonable, and when

such a commendable use of language is joined, as in the instance before us, with generous feeling and a clear mind, we cannot but welcome the bard and hope for his speedy re-appearance.

PLEASANT MEMORIES OF PLEASANT LANDS. By L. H. Sigourney. Boston: James Munroe & Company. 1842.

In the absence of the usual supply of elegant annuals, this beautifully executed book will doubtless prove acceptable to the public. Like all the writings of Mrs. Sigourney, it is conceived in a good spirit. It refers, however, to hackneyed themes, and we find little originality in the manner they are dealt with. The unpretending preface and fragmentary character of the book disarm criticism. Still, with all our consideration for the lady's motives and our reverence for the high principle which guides her pen, we must be permitted to suggest that she holds the art of poetry in too little veneration. She has published an amount of verse far greater than Bryant, Halleck, or any of our renowned bards,-far too much for any but an extraordinary mind to produce, of a quality at all commensurate with the quantity. In fact, Mrs. Sigourney is too mechanical and occasional to do either herself or the holy art she professes, anything like justice. It will never answer to make the moral tone of poetry an excuse for its essential inferiority. "Poor, but pious," is a phrase we once heard applied to a volume of poems, and it is one which true taste must accord, however reluctantly, to many of the effusions of this estimable lady. Many of the sentiments in this dainty volume are excellent, and occasionally the rhythmical portion rises to the dignity, or flows with the sweetness of poetic impulse; but, besides the use of such unpleasant abbreviations as "'neath,' """scape," and the like, there is a careless, prosaic, common-place strain often indulged, of which one enjoying the reputation of Mrs. Sigourney should feel herself unworthy. Sea-sickness is a damper, we all know, to the poetical vein as well as to the animal spirits; but in the calm healthfulness of the green earth, who, aspiring to the title of minstrel, would publish the following as poetry, however appropriate it may be to a friendly prose letter?

I would not wish to be Fastidious, or too difficult to please; Yet I've a fondness, now and then, to tread On something firm, and not be always dashed Against the call when walking, nor in sleep Tossed from the pillow to the state-room floor, Aghast and ill at ease. p. 13.

In speaking of Kenilworth, a similar instance

occurs:

And when once more I reach my pleasant home,
In Yankee land, should conversation flag
Among us ladies, though it seldom does,
When of our children and our house-keeping

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We make these quotations in no captious spirit. We would fain be gentle and courteous to the fair and good, in the field of letters as well as on the arena of life. We have felt, however, that there was danger of public taste being perverted by the erroneous principle so much in vogue, of accepting as true poetry what are merely versified moral precepts. Mrs. Sigourney owes her popularity, in a great measure, to her identity with a large religious party. We would have her fully aware of this. We would kindly bid her exercise more discrimination and spontaneous sentiment in her devotion to the muses. Let her not write merely because a good neighbor dies, or a renowned scene is visited, but because some real inspiration warms her heart, because deep emotion is aroused, because there are stirring in her bosom thoughts that crave utterand feelings that thirst for expression. Thus, with rare exceptions, wrote Mrs. Hemans. It is not in events, but in the soul, that poetry is born. It is not by the number but by the genuineness of the offerings that the muses are propitiated. We have thus spoken, not without a due sense of the excellent service Mrs. Sigourney has rendered to the cause of education, nor in forgetfulness of her happier poetic efforts; but because we have looked in vain for some other admirer of her character and talents, to perform the ungrateful, but still friendly duty of reminding her (what indiscriminate applause may have caused her to forget) how much is due to herself, to her friends, and to "the divinest of all arts."

ance,

HISTORY OF EUROPE, from the commencement of the French Revolution, in 1789, to the Restoration of the Bourbons, in 1815. By Archibald Alison, F. R. S. E. Advocate. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1842. Nos. 1 and 2.

Time was when, to peruse a history which cost fourteen years of labor, was no light task. Long days were consumed over ponderous folios, and slowly toiled the reader through battles, intrigues and dynasties. The work mentioned above, has attracted an unusual share of attention in England. The period comprised in the annals it records is one familiar and deeply interesting to the present age. Mr. Alison is commended, by numerous judicious critics, for his faithful research, his copious reference to authorities, and, in many respects, for the style and general execution of his extensive undertaking. On the other hand, politi

cal journals have called in question his impartiality. That he has produced a full, clear and attractive history of the most extraordinary epoch of modern times, is allowed on all hands. The Messrs. Harper have commenced the republication of this valuable work in monthly numbers of about one hundred and fifty pages each. They are enclosed in neat paper covers, with a very appropriate wood-cut decoration. The print and paper are good, and the shape and arrangement very convenient. The low price of twenty-five cents each will place the sixteen numbers within the means of thousands; and we cannot doubt that an enterprise so judiciously adapted to the times, and so rich in useful entertainment, and authentic as well as important information, will be most liberally sustained by an intelligent public.

HISTORY OF CHARLES VIII., KING OF FRANCE. Philadelphia: Herman Hooker.

"The reign of Charles VIII. is distinguished as one of the most remarkable periods in French history. It was the age of the centralization of power, and of the triumph of royalty." Count Segur, well known for his vivid and elaborate sketch of Napoleon's Russian campaign, has illustrated this epoch in the memoirs of the King. They contain a variety of valuable information, and the student of history will find them useful for reference and agreeable in perusal. The work has been carefully translated by Richard R. Montgomery, and is neatly printed in two convenient volumes. The same publisher has recently issued, in handsome style, several theological works, and among them "Bickersteth's Family Prayers," and a pamphlet referring to the late charge of the Bishop of Oxford-both from the last London editions.

NATURAL HISTORY OF NEW YORK. By Authority. D. Appleton & Co. and Wiley & Putnam.

1942.

This is a noble evidence of official enterprise tastefully directed. Governor Seward deserves great credit for the pains he has taken thus to illustrate the natural resources of New York. It seems to us, however, that the distinctive value and interest of the work is, in no small degree, lessened by the palpable want of attention to the local features to which it should be limited. We allude particularly to the introduction, which, we presume was drawn up by the Governor himself. It contains a fund of valuable and authentic information, and we know of no other work that presents so complete and succinct a view of the scientific, political and educational facts relative to the Empire State. We only regret that these details were not strictly confined to the State itself and what belongs to it. It appears to us that the essential

value of works of this class depends upon a faithful observance of this rule. That it has been disregarded in the present instance, is obvious from a glance at that part of the introduction devoted to literature. Bryant, a native of Massachusetts, is claimed as a New York poet. The same is the case with Halleck, who is well known to have first seen the light in Connecticut. Orville Dewey, a Berkshire man, is ranged, with Stephens and Mackenzie, among the Knickerbocker travellers; and Lucy Hooper, whose young fame is the pride of the pretty village of Newburyport, is chronicled beside the Davidsons. There is no necessity for New York thus to look abroad for jewels to adorn her diadem. While in the departments of Satire and History, she can boast of an Irving; in Jurisprudence of a Verplanck; in Romance and Poetry, of Drake, Sands, Hoffman, Street, Fay, Mrs. Embury and others,-with so many more illustrious names both in Science and Literature,-why mar the distinctness of her glorious annals, by enrolling those whom other states justly can appropriate and will hardly be disposed to relinquish? We make these remarks in no illiberal spirit. On broad American ground, we believe it desirable to encourage an honest and manly local pride. It identifies genius with scenes that hallow and perpetuate its creations. The generous rivalry in letters as well as arms of the Italian republics, was one great secret of their rapid growth and transcendent renown. Let every state and, if possible, every town, boast its gifted children. So shall a noble emulation be inspired and a wholesome ambition excited. Such publications as the Boston Book, the Rhode Island Book, &c., tend to throw a moral interest around the regions whose intellectual fruits they exhibit. There is a lamentable deficiency of ancestral feeling and local attachment in this country. Its encouragement would give more character to different sections of the land; and the physical resources, history and heritage of mind, would gradually be portrayed and illustrated in each state, until the several tableaux formed a grand national gallery, in which every American would linger with pride and delight. We hope the inadvertencies so obvious in this work will be corrected in future editions.

SELF-CULTURE. By William E. Channing, D. D. With a Biographical Sketch of the Author. Boston: James Munroe & Co. 1842.

Few tracts have exerted a more wide and salutary influence than Dr. Channing's lecture on SelfCulture. It is a powerful statement of encouraging truths set forth in that clear, harmonious and impressive style for which its lamented author was distinguished. We are happy to see it re-published in so neat a manner, now that death has consecrated the eloquent lessons it conveys. The humblest votary of improvement will derive consolation and guidance from its pages.

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE, with special reference to Moral Tendency. Philadelphia: E. C. Biddle. 1843.

A winsome book for the young, clearly printed and containing many fine wood-cuts, but not the Robinson Crusoe we once read with delight four or five times a year. If a ghost could protest, surely that of De Foe would be eloquently indignant at the liberties taken with his popular fiction. The world is certainly becoming too good for honest people to live in. This removing of ancient landmarks by re-modelling favorite books, to suit the excessive moral refinement of the age, is a kind of sacrilege. What right, we should like to know, have the boys and girls of to-day, or their guardians, to demur at the mental entertainment upon which their fathers and mothers grew strong and happy? We cannot feel a particle of reverence for the complacent worthies who are forever striving to make a good thing better. "Family Shakspeares" are our aversion. We have no opinion of the philosophy that would teach swimming without recourse to the watery element. Let the legacies of genius remain as they are left. If their influence is evil, banish them altogether. "Unfortunate Robinson Crusoe!" says the song, and so say we; not because of thy lonely island, and sad anniversaries, and warfare with cannibals, but because the wise of this generation, in the excess of their morality, will persist in modifying the delectable history of thy adventures, until all the fresh and bold features of the original are lost. How could any man, boasting a true heart, thus meddle with a time-hallowed story? Because he is "virtuous, are we to have no more cakes and ale?" For the babes of the age, this revised "Robinson" will prove an agreeable gift, but we advise all "children of a larger growth," who lovingly remember the original, to eschew the modernized and moralized edition.

THE SALEM BELLE: A Tale of 1692. Boston: Tappan & Dennet. 1842.

This little story possesses some local interest. It is from an anonymous source. The object of the author is to illustrate the extraordinary delusion which resulted in the sacrifice of so many victims of popular superstition, under the name of witches. The period to which the tale refers, abounds in materials for the novelist, and, in judicious and gifted hands, might be rendered fearfully interesting. The present attempt is of a more humble order, and contains some evidences of want of practice or ability in the author. To those, however, who find amusement in such fictions, it will afford entertainment. In the preface it is justly observed that "the elements of delusion always exist in the human mind." The simple narrative of Salem Witchcraft," however, (as related, for instance, by Upham,) appears to us, far more impressive, than

any but a truly powerful delineation of the subject, in the form of a drama, romance or tale.

THE GOLDEN VASE: a Gift for the Young. By Hannah F. Gould. Boston: B. B. Mussey.

"The scent of the roses" hangs round this vase. It is, without exception, the best juvenile keepsake of the season. Leaving out of view the elegant exterior, there is a healthful fancy and attractive style, both in the prose and verse, which cannot fail to win the attention and benefit the minds of the young. Miss Gould's playful vein is one of her best, and when she undertakes to entertain and instruct children, she is not less successful than with those mature auditors who ever welcome her lively and truthful effusions.

POETRY: a Satire. By Park Benjamin.

Some needful truths are ably told in this poem. We never heard a production of the kind more agreeably delivered. It won the interest of a large assembly at once. As an occasional poem, it possesses uncommon merit, although more time and study would have enabled its author to do better justice to his fine imaginative powers. The diction is worthy of high praise, with one or two exceptions, on account of its simplicity and clearness. We cordially echo Mr. Benjamin's spirited eulogium of our much-abused vernacular, the capacities of which many passages of his poem admirably illustrate.

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The first octavo edition of this charming work was one of the most beautiful specimens of bookmaking ever executed in this country. Its price, however, rendered it unavailable as a popular work. The third edition, now published, is in two small and very neat volumes, and will undoubtedly meet with an extensive sale. We have had an opportunity of witnessing the indefatigable manner in which Mr. Wright pursued his long-cherished object of translating and publishing the fables of La Fontaine. The world have long acknowledged the peculiar merits of the original. Heretofore, English versions have been spiritless, from their prose diction. A large number of scholars certify to the accuracy of the present translation, and it is praised universally for the happy style in which the pleasant inventions of its author are set forth in English rhyme. The preface, index and illustrations are very appropriate, and the work cannot fail to find its way into all juvenile libraries and frequently to the hands of grave elders, who will delight

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