Wlliam Gilmore Simms
The Letters of William Gilmore Simms. Vol. 6, Supplement >> 512b Brantz Mayer >> Page 106

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Correspondence | U of South Carolina P | 2012
Transcription 106 THE SIMMS LETTERS
critic who would make himself merry over a victim whom it would not be necessary, perhaps, to show up, but for the impertinent & stupid !audits of its friends.'
Woodlands Nov. 6. 1849
Hon. Brantz Mayer dear Sir
I do not know whether in the variety of my avocations, particularly the toils of a transfer to my country from my city residence, I have not quite overlooked your letter of the 4th Oct. It was not my desire to do so, and if such has been the case, that you have remained to this moment unanswered, I must earnestly entreat your forgiveness. When you wrote Mr. Burges was absent in the interior, travelling for his health. He returned to the city when I was leaving it; but assured me he would be able to honor your draft when due. I trust that he has done so; but have not seen him since. He is still in the interior, I believe, travelling equally for health and business. The truth is, I regard him as a dying man—irrecoverably consumptive. He has been greatly distressed, and has been so much the subject of my commisseration that I have forebome greatly to

'The Southern Quarterly Review, XVI (Oct. 1849), 245—246, contains a review (probably by Simms) of Kavanagh, a Tale (Boston: Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, 1849). The reviewer comments: "It is of the same slender staple [as Longfellow's 'previous prose writings')—with few thoughts, few incidents—unimportant action and a rather cold interest; but marked by his usual felicity and smoothness of style, the play of a gentle fancy, and a pleasant sentiment. Kavanagh must depend for its attractions on their agencies wholly. It is a bald village story, in which love appears somewhat of the school girl fashion and philosophy,—which seemed to have fed on bread and butter all its life. . . . But we should be doing injustice to Mr. Longfellow not to admit the beauty and felicity of many of his passages. Some of the apothegms are marked by a delightful fancy, and much of his criticisms, on literature and society in America, is just and forcible. It is his invention that lacks. Nothing can he more bald than Kavanagh as a story; and for its design as little may be said. The author seems to have begun his book without fairly grasping his purpose. His moral is at once slight and commonplace."