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<PHIS IS TRUE LIBERTY WHEN FREE-BORN MEN—SIAVING TO ADVISE THE

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(From the New York Literary World.)

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_ CHARLOTTETOWN, MARCH 2, 1850.

RINT RES.

CRITICISM OF BRYANT.

Powell's Authors of America, | (Which we can hardly considera lucky

The Living Aubhors of America. First Series. By Thomas Powell, author of the “Living Authors of England,” &c. Stringer & Jiownsend.

An odd agglomeration of small talk, “leetie” anecdotes, criticism, elegant ex- teacta, occasional acuteness, and sheer valderdash—literary cockneyism and Joe Miller combined. On the presumption that itis a book of sober criticism, as the title imports, it would be liable to severe animadversion for its looseness of style, and absurd, insolent manner; but taken en the other side, as a money-making «quib, it is amusing to witness the shifts and resources with which the writer ekes out his treatment of a dull topic, on his hands, of which he knows little and cares |

guess, but probably the writer has not been long enough in the country to wit- ness the winter phenomenon the Poet de- scribes. )

“We merely point out, as a single trait in the compositions of so classical a writer as Mr. Bryant, the numerous ex- pletive epithets he indulges in; he very often weakens the whole force of a thought by one needless or uncharacteristic adjec- tive. We think this line an illustration of our remark :—

‘¢ Soon a8 the glazed and gleaming snow.’ ”’ ENEMIES TO THE NATIONAL MIND.

(A dead lift for the Copyrigtht question.) “It is a curious fact that the worst ene- mies of the national mind have been a few of her own sons.—T hese are authors, who, till lately, have entirely enjoyed the

less. Powell’s Authors of England pro- tessed to be derived from personal know- | ledge of the writers, and wag at least en- | tertaining as a collection of amusing | stories drawn from a certain level of Eng-

its wanton spirit of mischief by its utter | recklessness. ‘The book on the living authors of America has no story to tell, and what little mischief is intended is so puerile in style and idea, that it is simply ridiculous. We can give no better idea of the volume than by calling to mind an inflated fourth rate English provincial | actor ona fourth rate American theatre gagging furiously, interpolating Cooper and Bryant, serious with a verse of Tha- natopsis, comical with a twist of buffoon- ery; straining his perceptions into the *uccanneer one moment, and his relaxed head through a horse-collar the next.

Running rapidiy over the book, we have hit upon a hundred such comicalities | as these, with now and then a bit of good sense tersely expressed. They are curi- osities of literature, Mr. Powell’s book being perfectly unique.

QUEEN VICTORIA.

(A reliable anecdote, tending to show that that lady’s education had been slightly neglected :)—

“ We have the authority of one of the poet’s own family for saying that Queen Victoria, the head of the Anglo-Saxon race, had never heard of Wordsworth till he was proposed to her for Poet Laureate, ou the death of Sonthey.”

ENGLAND IN A BAD WAY.

{Appropos to a verse of Mr. Bryant’s * Lapse of Time :”})—

“It may be safely predicted, by any | ene accustomed te look philosophically at the movements of time, that it is reserved for the American republic to shield her great parent, Englan« herself, from the assaults of the old despotisms.”

EMERSON AND BACON, _— a soothing reflection for the lat- sor. “Our study of Emerson has not been exclusive; we have had time to taste of most of the poetry and philosophy written in the English language from Chaucer | downwards: and we again declare that we know of no author that is so full of suggestion, speaks so directly to the heart, and is so free from. the. prejudices of the time, and the fashions in which we live. Bacon, the great Lord Bacon, sinks to a mere politician alongside Emerson. But we do not nevertheless, undervalue Ba-

|

monopoly of the English market; now

| they will be obliged to join the body of native authors, and hurry to the rescue. | ;

So long as they could tresvass on the |

RANE EE

j

| mistaken courtesy of the British publish- | ltsh society. The sting wag taken from | 7 7

INTELEL

our author's apology for writing plays— he had noidea heshould find any obstacles in his way !”

BULWER LYTTON’S “ FRIED KIDS.” (Not bad after-dinner small talk.) “Tlaving been invited, at some three

weeks’ notice, by the author of Pelham to a grand dejeuner, or Fete Champetre, at | his Villa near Fulham, Mr. -—— upon the afternoon in question, found himself dri- | ving towards the scene of action, On! his arival there, about two in the after-

noon, he joined a large and fashiqnadle | company there assembied. Various groups were scattered about, occupied in different ways, a party here were engaged in arch- ery~-a party there were listening to some manuscript verses by some unpublished genius, who had basely taken advantage of that courteous forbearance so nearly | allied to martyrdom to inflict his unde- veloped poems. At a little distance, pacing up and down, were a brace of po- litical economists, busily engaged in pay-

ing off the national debt, and very properly inattentive to their own tailor’s claims. On the bank of the river was the cele-

Cm MAY SPEAK FRBE.

XaMiner,

-WEEBLY-

IGENCER.

1W—Mittor’s Euripripes,

ab, HU. 0.

elegance of eating, the ornaments of the appetite, and not its substantialities. Je!- lies in the shape of chrystal mounds : cakes battlemented like the baronia! dwellings of feudal tyrants. Trifles light as air, swelling over Chinese dwellings, crimson flushed with vermillion sweets : piles of bon-bons and seented crackers. gorgeously gilded and rainbow coloured. At each side were flesh coloured masses of ice-creams, flanked by a regiment of infinite small mince-pies, raspberry tarts, and triangular cheese cakes. At solemn intervals were Maraschino, Curacao, No- yau, aud other liqueurs, confined in sma!! decanters about the size of Eau de Co- logne phials, while scattered around were goblets to drink out of, ahout the size of overgrown thimbles. It was a diaboiica! improvement (so far aS starvation went,) on the feast of Tantalus. A glass of water would have had a gigantic look in our friefd’s eyes perfectly titanic. A narrower scrutiny discovered to his long- ing sight two dishes, one a tureen of palish, green-looking water, where there were a few diminutive ney potatoes swim-

ers, and get four thousand guineas for this Life of Golumbus, and two hundred guineas for that Typee, there was no oc- casion for any interference; in fact, they were materially benefitted by this crying injustice to the great body of authors, Now their own rights are in jeopardy, and they must join the ranks of international Copyright.”

brated novelist himself, chatting to a small party of ladiesyone of whom was occu- pied in fishing with so elegant a rod that Sappho herself need not have despised to use it. Ofa sudden their was a faint and highly lady-like scream. ‘A bite, a bite, Sir Kdward,’ was the fascinating ejacula- tion of the fair angler. With that pre- sence of mind so eminently characteristic BARABBAS A PUBLISHER. | of the beautiful part of creation, she pulled

(“A joke played of by Byron upon that | the rod from the water, and there, sure Prince of publishers, John Murray, Leigh | enough, was a monstrous fish, almost as Hunt our informant.) large asa perch, While the poor little “The ‘moody Childe’ bad given to | thing kicked violently about, the ladies Murray as a birthday present, a Bible, | cried with one accord for Sir Edward to magnificentty bound, and which he en- | Secure the struggling prisoner by unhook- riched by a very flattering inscription, | ing it. The baronet looked inploringly This was laid by the grateful publisher | first at the ladies, then at the fish, and still on his drawing room table,and somewhat | more pathetically at his flesh-coloured ostentatiously displayed to all comers. | kid gloves, innocent of a stain. Sir Ed- One evening as a large company were ward’s alarm was apparent ; he would gathered around the table, one of the | have shrunk from brushing the down from guests happened to open the testament, off a butterfly’s wing, lest he should soil and saw some writing in the margin, | the virgin purity of his kids, buta fish— Calling to Murray, hesaid: ‘Why, Byron | it was too horrible. The ladies, who has written something here!? Narrower | seemed to take a fiendish delight in tor- inspection proved that the profane wit had | turing their rastidious host, insisted upon erased the word ‘ robber’ in the text, and | his releasing the poor captive, and ap- substituted that of ‘publisher? so that | pealed loudly to his romantic sympathies. the passage read thus: ‘ Now, Barabbas | At length one of them, more lively and was a publisher!’ The legend goes on| mischievous than the rest, seized the to state that the book disappeared that, 7d and actually waved it close to Sir

very night from the drawing room table.’;

DICKENS VISITING TALFOURD, (Luggec in to illustrate Willis’s “ dri- ving his Pegasus to its dramatic Parnas- sus.”) “This reminds us. of an accident a

having happened to himself. Having oc- casion to dine with a friend, he jumped

fast as he could to Russell Square. had not been long in the conveyance be- fore he felt assured the man was drunk ; ‘now he drove against a cart—then he went into an oyster stall. He extricated himself from this dilemma by rushing upon a heavy wagon; unable to overcome this obstacle, he vio!ated the proprieties of driving by disorganizing a funeral pro- cession ; his efforts reached a climax by mistaking the footpath for the road, and immediately after, a sharp shock, and then a dead stand-still, convinced the

eon; he was.a great man in his time, and | exercised a wide influence upon his age, | and ages after.” “It is but a simple act of justice to Mr. | GO ckeus to state, that in a letter printed ex- tensively in the American Newspapers, he has denounced in the most express terms, as utter- ly talae, the anecdotes &c., published of him | ‘a the “ Living Authors of England.”

i

——S————— eS aa re

rider inside that the cab was inextricably fixed. Springing out, our friend observed that the man was in the middle of the footpath, and that the wheel was locked in a lamp-post. Indignantly demanding what the fellow meant, he received the following reply :—*‘ Who the devil would have thought of finding a post in the mid-

‘native element. lively novelist related one evening, as |

(ning, and letting down a hook through into a cab, and told the man to drive as |

He |

idward’s face ; throwing his hand out to protect himself, his fingers came in con- tact with the scaly phenomenon ;—then nerving himself for the deed, he resslutely seized the dangerous animal, and extri- cating it from the hook, threw it into its Lamb has in one of his essays observed, how would men like if some superior being were to go out man-

the air towards the earth, baited witha beef-steak, draw a, man up to heaven, roar- ing like a bull, with a hook in his gills. “Our frierid was cordially welcomed by the fish releaser, and finding several of his old friends, rambled about the grounds, chatting first with one and then another, until he felt all the vulgar sen- sations of hunger, It was now fivé o'clock, and no symtoms of the dejeuner; he had unfortunately breakfasted early, and had purposely abstained from lunching, his knowledge of fashionable French being so limited as to translate erroheously the word ‘dejeuner’ to mean a meal of that kind. At eight o’clock in the evening | the lunch bell rung, and a nonchalant rush |

ming for their lives, and trying to escape, which they did with ease, from the abor- _tive efforts of our friend, who, with a ladle, ‘was doing his best to capture one, te satisfy the cravings of his appetite.

' “The other dish was one of fritters, |and presented the appearance of having | been made out of Sir Edward’s kid gloves dipped in batter, and then elaborately fried. We must draw a veil over our friends sufferings. After securing a , spoonfal of jelly—one of the afore-named | smal] forced meat balls—a portion of truf- | fle, evanescent and shadowy a8 mist—(not half so substantial asa Pood wholesome London November fog, which at times is so thick that it may be easily cut clinging to the knife)—and a glass thimbleful of | maraschino—our friend drove home in his gig through the chill evening air, with his teeth chattering to themselves, and trying to console his importunate gastric juice and empty stomach,

“ He astonished his wife and household on his return home by eating seriatim everything in the house in the way of flesh, from a haunch of mutton down to a ham bone, and from the new bread down to the stale crust.”

We should not spoil so good a story by introducing after it any of Mr. Powell's serious fun in his rhapsodies, reflections and critiques, so we cut short our extracts while the reader is in a good humour with this, all things consideted, most extraor- dinary piece of literary composition.

7

ee

We direct the attention of those Bene- dicts who have very loquacious wives to the following notice, posted at a ham- shop in Sloahe-street:— TJ'ongues cured here.”

Experimental Philosophby—asking a young lady to marry you. Natural philo- sophy—looking indifferent, and saying you were only in fun, when she refuses you.

A witty rogue, brought before a Pari- sian tribunal for a drunken riot, assured the Bench that he was not.a drunkard, but in his childhood he was bitten by a mad dog, and he had ever since had a horror of water.

The editor of the Lotisville Journal, retorting a charge of personal ugliness

was made towards the house. The blaze‘ against a contemporary, says :—“ We are of light ushered them to the room, where | credibly informed, that after the birth of all.was laid out in the perfection of Gun- | Harvey, none but handsome babies were ter’s best manner; but judge our famished | born for several years; all the ugly mate- friend’s dismay, when a rapid survey, like | rial in the universe was used up in his

dle of the road?’ We fear this will be (a Napoleon's glance, diacorered only ihe | creation.”