ns. The nominal hero,
while wandering about at night after the wreck of his fortunes, hears
a band playing outside a public place of entertainment. It must have
been a better band than that which now, from the Museum opposite the
Astor House, drives to frenzy the hapless stranger.... In Halleck's
subsequent productions the influence of Campbell is more perceptible
than that of Byron, and with manifest advantage. It may be said of his
compositions, as it can be affirmed of few American verses, that they
have a real innate harmony, something not dependent on the number of
syllables in each line, or capable of being dissected out into feet,
but growing in them, as it were, and created by the fine ear of the
writer. Their sentiments, too, are exalted and ennobling; eminently
genial and honest, they stamp the author for a good man and
true,--Nature's aristocracy.... For some unexplained reason Halleck
has not written, or at least not published, anything new for several
years, though continually solicited to do so; for he is a great
favorite with his countrymen, especially with the New Yorkers. His
time, however, has been by no means passed in idleness. Fashionable
as writing is in America, it is not considered desirable or, indeed,
altogether reputable, that the poet should be _only_ a poet. Halleck
has been in business most of his life; and was lately head-clerk
of the wealthy merchant, John Jacob Astor, who left him a handsome
annuity. This was increased by Mr. Astor's son and heir, a man of
well-known liberality; so that between the two there is a chance
of the poet's being enabled to 'meditate the tuneful Muse' for the
remainder of his days free from all distractions of business.

"LONGFELLOW, the pet poet of Boston, is a much younger man than either
Bryant or Halleck, and has made his reputation only within the last
twelve years, during which time he has been one of the most noted
lions of American Athens. The city of Boston, as every one knows who
has been there, or who has met with any book or man emanating from
it, claims to be the literary metropolis of the United States, and
assumes the slightly-pretending _soubriquet_ just quoted. The American
Athenians have their thinking and writing done for them by a coterie
whose distinctive characteristics are Socinianism in theology, a
praeter-Puritan prudery in ethics, a German tendency in metaphysics,
and throughout all a firm persuasion that Boston is the fountain-head
o