Before closing these hasty remarks, we beg leave to press on the attention of our readers the fact, that so much intellectual gratification cannot be afforded for nothing. Without a liberal and generous support from the public, such a journal cannot be sustained. Even the late "Southern Review," with a towering reputation and splendid abilities, was forced to close its career, solely from the negligence of the public in offering that patronage which many would gladly have tendered after it was too late. Patronage, then--patronage tor the Messenger, and it will be perpetuated, as an honor to Virginia, and a reward to its enterprising proprietor. {135} _From the New York Courier and Enquirer_. _Southern Literary Messenger, for December 1835_.--There is no one of the many periodicals of our country, to the reception of which we look forward with a greater certainty of satisfaction than to this young, but already more than adolescent magazine. It is always above par, always distinguishable for correct style and pure English--for neatness and elegance--rather perhaps than vigor, or decided strength of original thought--the absence of which quality is perhaps sufficient to constitute a weak point, in what would otherwise be almost faultless. In the department of criticism, however, this remark does not apply so fully--for the notice of new works, in the Southern Messenger, are, we have no hesitation in saying it, the boldest, the most independent, and unflinching, of all that appears in the periodical world. This is as it should be--over-levity towards rising writers is a more real sin than over-sternness; and we are sorry to say, it is a sin, into which most of our magazines are wont to fall. This number is one of more than average power, and the critiques on The Hawks of Hawk-Hollow--the Linwoods--and Norman Leslie we especially recommend to notice. They are evidently all written with equal sincerity, and force of _true_ opinion, and as such command respect even where we differ from them in judgment. That on Dr. Bird's new book, for instance, is too favorable; and indeed we think that this gentleman is _always_ overrated--that on "the Linwoods" is superlative, in truth, style, and taste; while that on Norman Leslie is severe to a fault; inasmuch as the criticism, though we cannot deny the truth of the greater portion of it, is paralyzed by the strong symptoms of _personal_ hostility not to Mr. Fay only, but to all who may be supposed to favor or admire him. _From the National Intelligencer_.