my dear
Lieber,—. . .
Longfellow's book contains some of the most beautiful gems of American poetry,—I would almost say, some of the most beautiful in English poetry.
The description of the wreck in the ballad of the ‘
Hesperus’ is one of the finest things in English ballad literature.
‘Excelsior’ is a noble poem, which cannot die; and which, as long as it lives, will fill with new energy those who read it, besides exciting the highest admiration for the writer.
‘
Endymion’ is a most poetical thought, beautifully wrought.
‘It is not always May’ is a truly melodious composition.
‘The Rainy Day’ is a little pearl.
‘Maidenhood’ is a delicate, delicious, soft, hazy composition.
‘God's-Acre’ is a very striking thought.
Then, the hexameters.
I do not like this measure in
English.
Our language has too many little words to bear this dactylic and spondaic yoke; but
Longfellow has written the best that have been written in the language.
I return you your notes on the ‘Right of Search.’
I sent you, some time ago, a reply to my article which appeared in the ‘Daily Advertiser,’ written by J. C. Perkins, of Salem,—a lawyer of great attainments and acuteness in his profession.
I have taken up the subject again,—partly to rejoin to him, and partly to consider several points which I have heard started in various places on the subject.
In my second article, I have taken something from you. You will recognize your property when you see it. Tell me how the question stands on this last article.
The ‘National Intelligencer,’ I am told, has published my first, with some notes of praise; while the ‘Globe’ and ‘Madisonian’ have come out against it. I have not seen either.
I do not belong to a reading-room, and see very few papers.
I long to see your letter on the ‘Creole,’ and wish I could send you a copy of one I wrote to Mr. Harvey, of New York, about a month ago, who wrote to me, asking what I thought of the case.1 . . .
Ever yours,
C. S.
