But American fame has decided otherwise.
Mr.M.Flint, of Louisiana, has published a volume of poems which ought to be naturalised here.

Mr.Hallock, of New York, has much facility of versification, and is greatly in fashion as a drawing-room poet, but I think he has somewhat too much respect for himself, and too little for his readers.
It is, I think, Mr.Bryant who ranks highest as the poet of the Union.

This is too lofty an eminence for me to attack; besides, "I am of another parish," and therefore, perhaps, no very fair judge.
From miscellaneous poetry I made a great many extracts, but upon returning to them for transcription I thought that ill-nature and dulness, ('oh ill-matched pair!') would be more served by their insertion, than wholesome criticism.
The massive Fredoniad of Dr.Emmons, in forty cantos, I never read; but as I did not meet a single native who had, I hope this want of poetical enterprise will be excused.
They have very few native tragedies; not more than half a dozen I believe, and those of very recent date.

It would be ungenerous to fall heavily upon these; the attempt alone, nearly the most arduous a poet can make, is of itself honourable: and the success at least equal to that in any other department of literature.
Mr.Paulding is a popular writer of novels; some of his productions have been recently republished in England.

Miss Sedgwick is also well known among us; her "Hope Leslie" is a beautiful story.