A late number of Frazer's Magazine contains an elaborate review of "Roberts' Life and Correspondence of Hannah Moore," in which are interspersed much of the keen sarcasm and provoking levity for which that periodical is distinguished. The reviewer concludes as follows: "For Mrs. Moore we have a high regard, as a staunch tory and good churchwoman, though of the so-called evangelical clique. She was however practical in her piety; and this is the sure test of sincerity. Be her name therefore honored! She was an extraordinary individual, and would have been such had she not been an authoress. We esteem her personal character far above her literary. In the one she was truly great, in the other respectable and prosperous. To sum up all, she was a practically wise and prudent woman; nevertheless her prudence was an overmatch for her wisdom. To perfection she wanted two grave requisites--greater intuitive knowledge, and a _happy husband_. The first she derived at second hand and from shallow streams; the last she avoided altogether. She thus escaped one great trial; but they who retreat from battle have no claim to the victor's wealth." For the Southern Literary Messenger. A SONG. _Air_--"The Lass of Peatie's Mill." How sweet it is to rove Through vallies rich and wide, Or with a friend we love O'er the still waves to glide! 'Tis sweet to see the day Withdraw her golden car, And watch the glimmering ray Of Eve's first silver star! 'Tis sweet to hail the dawn, In blushes ever new-- And mark the young, fleet fawn, Brush off the crystal dew! But sweeter far than Eve Or early Morning's prime, Are smiles that ne'er deceive, And love unchanged by time! Tho' fickle fortune frown, And wealth withhold her store, What is a jewelled crown? A bauble soon no more. But love, pure love, is gold Which nothing can consume; And smiles that ne'er grow cold, Are flowers of fadeless bloom! E. A. S. EDITORIAL REMARKS.