If Mr. Longfellow has in this poem thus practically illustrated his possession of rare powers, for which a few critics have not given him credit, he has also done something which, from the time of Sidney, has been pronounced impossible by English criticism—he has written a long narrative poem in hexameter verse, and managed it so admirably, that it seems the best he could have chosen for his purpose. We cannot conceive of the poem as being recast in heroics, octosyllabics, blank verse, or the Spenserian stanza, without essential injury to its effect, and a limitation of its range of character and description. In this Mr. Longfellow has clearly performed “the impossible;” and it should be a source of gratification to every American, that one of his own countrymen has achieved what no English poet has been able to perform, and what few have dared to attempt. The composition of a poem in hexameter verse, which can be read with as much ease and delight as “Gertrude of Wyoming,” we conceive to be the most original peculiarity of this original work. The character of Evangeline is, perhaps, Mr. Longfellow’s most beautiful creation. It is both conceived and sustained with wonderful force and truth. The sweetness, purity, energy, holiness, and naturalness of the character, as displayed in her life-long wanderings, the unforced religious elevation which envelopes her, and through her the whole poem; —“The hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience,” which she endures from her early youth to that period when, old and worn with constant endeavor, she presses the lifeless head of her long-sought betrothed to her bosom, and “meekly bows her own, and murmurs, ‘Father, I thank thee,’” all combine to consecrate her to the heart and imagination as one of those pure conceptions of humanity, which none who once cherishes will willingly let die. The author has well addressed the class of readers who will appreciate the deep seriousness of his purpose, in a few of the opening lines: “Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient; Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman’s devotion; List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest; List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.” We cannot refrain from making a few extracts from this poem, although we must warn our readers that they can obtain no clear idea of its merits, and the artistical relation, of the characters to each other, and the scenery to the characters, without reading the whole. We will guarantee that it possesses sufficient interest to be read at one sitting. We will first give a few lines partially indicating some of the characters. Benedict, Evangeline’s father, is thus described: