CHARLES MACKAY.

CHARLES MACKAY, one of the most popular authors of the time, was born in Scotland about 1810, and after receiving a good general education, practised for the bar: here, however, his poetical temperament got the better of his legal prudence, and he rushed into the world of letters! Coming to London he got introduced to the editor of the Morning Chronicle, and was engaged as sub-editor of that leading whig journal for some years. In 1844 he went to Glasgow, and undertook the editing of the "Glasgow Argus," a paper of considerable reputation. He returned to London some short time ago, where he still remains. Few men have made more friends than the author of "The Salamandrine," and "Voices from the Crowd;" his manners being pleasant, and his conduct generous. He is about the middle height, hair inclined to a "dark golden," eyes dark, and of a ruddy happy countenance. He has contributed many of the most genial articles in "Chambers' Journal."

In "The Salamandrine" we have the etherialised love of a "supernatural nature" developed in the person of Amethysta.

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Sir Gilbert, the hero, is gazing upon a fire in the midst of the flame,

"In the fiercest of the heat

He sees a youth and maiden sweet,
Unscorched amid the fire they stand
And hold each other by the hand;
The harmless flames around them play,
In hues of purple, gold and gray;

They mount, they fall, they leap, they turn."

A conversation ensues; he learns from the tenor of it that they are brother and sister!

Sir Gilbert discovers also that the fair Salamandrine mourns over the mortality of her race, and envies the immortality of man.

O happy! happy man,'

(Thus the maiden sang :)

At thy birth the heavens were glad,

And hosannas rang.

Make us sharers in thy gain,

Oh! take pity on our pain;

And to our perishing souls impart

The immortality of thine,.

For which with bitter tears we ever yearn and pine..

The soldier felt his inmost heart

Warming with pity for their woe:

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Most fair; most melancholy things!'

Then came an answer to his thought,
Soft as a breeze amid the grass;

It was the maiden's voice that sang

And sighed again: Alas! alas!

We die; we die; we're banished from the sky:
For us no bliss in happy realms above,

Unless, man, thou'lt pity us and love.'"

In this "Salamandrine," Mr. Mackay had ample scope for his Rosicrusian learning, but the subject

was not so well suited to his poetical genius as it was to his acquired knowledge. It is full of fancy, but is very deficient in poetry, abounding in pretty descriptions and all the lighter graces of the muse. We are perpetually in doubt whether this and that passage are very nice verses, or whether they may not actually be called the mere frivolities of writing. This is a sure evidence of a poet's failure, although it may prove him to possess considerable fancy.

It is as a lyric poet of progress, as an utterer of "Voices from the Crowd," that we feel he is a true speaker of fine thoughts, and here we become aware that a brave, keen mind, and a fearless heart, are at work in man's behalf. He regards "old opinions" as "rags and tatters." The dignity of "daily work" he celebrates, instead of aristocratical arrogance and pomp.

"Who lags for dread of daily work,

And his appointed work would shirk,
Commits a folly and a crime,

He then denounces the causes which render emigration necessary; in another "Voice" he triumphantly anticipates when wars shall cease and brotherhood prevail.

One of his pleasantest "Voices" is "On Railways"

"No poetry in railways! foolish thought
Of a dull train-to no fine music wrought,

By mammon dazzled, though the people prize
The gold above, yet shall not we despise
The triumphs of our time, or fail to see
Of pregnant mind the fruitful prophecy,

Ushering the daylight of the world's new morn."

The poetry of Mr. Mackay is more adapted for the mass, who take up a book and put it down after an hour's pleasant reading; it does not appeal to either poet, critic or thinker. The thoughts are not original nor profound, but just what a well educated, earnest man of a fine temperament might be expected to feel under certain moods; in addition, there is nothing to offend the most fastidious tastes in morals or religion; for although his opinions are strongly expressed, they belong to the progressive, and not the destructive school of politics.

He has a keen sense of the future, and a firm faith in the ultimate destiny of man; nevertheless, there is too great a want of originality either in presenting a truth to the mind, and of power in rousing the heart, ever to put him with the Tennysons and Brownings. He has a lively fancy, a neat mode of expression, and a sharp eye in selecting topics generally pleasing to the million. While, however, we suspect that he will never achieve any great or original work, let us thank him cordially for what he has done in prose and

verse.

SIR EDWARD BULWER LYTTON.

SIR BULWER LYTTON has invented a kind of fifth order, which is neither fish, flesh, nor fowl; this consists of a melo-dramatic sketch filled up with elaborate dialogues, and abounding in poetical conceits and inflated sentiments. The most successful instance of this kind is, "The Lady of Lyons." There are many reasons why that play should be popular it appeals only to the outer and ad captandum range.

Another great element in the success of Bulwer is the felicitous manner in which he tricks out a common-place sentiment, and hangs a glittering sound about it, which deceives the masses into the belief of its being poetry; the tinsel is so well laid on that at a little distance it has really the look of pure gold; it deceived the critics at first; what wonder then, if the crowd were deluded; but a sure test of poetry is this: if you can read it time after time, and derive fresh delight from every perusal, you may be sure it is poetry; if on a second or third time it stales, the conclusion is certain that it is only verse, however sprightly or sounding. There is, however, one exception to this in the writings of Pope. Although deficient in what we call " 'Genius," there is a