From Me Southern Literary Messenger.

 CHEAP LITERATURE. ITS CHARACTER AND TENDENCIES.

BY A soUTHRoN.
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 l Dreadfully indignant were we, years ago, when Sidney Smith sneeringly asked, :. who reads an American book :" and if words could kill, immediate would have been the death of that reverend jester; yet the question might almost be reiterated now, with the slight change of "who writes one ?'' for American authors are becoming, as class, valuable for l their rarity, and unless favorable change takes place, threaten to be soon extinct We do not here mean to class as authors, the writers for magazines and daily newspapers, though probably the greater part of the talent of the country is driven into that narrow channel; many of them being men of great ability, who, under better state of things, would be authors of high celebrity but the feeting existence of the journals fol which they write, and the ephemeral nature of their contributions, chiefly on matters of local inte- rest, do not permit them to be ranked among authors by profession. If then, so many of these writers have evinced, even on the con- tracted theatre they have chosen, abilities ot no common order, why is 1t, that none of them attempt sustained and elaborate works {; works such as < Posterity will not willingly let dle?" because there is no encouragement I fftef because the pllhlc socks amusement and not instruction; because even our authors, who have already gained con- tinental reputation, fail to gain the ear of an indifferent public; and in despair lock up their writing desks, and hope for better times

 It IS true, that there are few illustrious exceptions, for Prescott, Sparks, Bancroft, and few other kindred spirits, to whom the love of historical research brings its own reward, still prosecute their useful labors in the field of fiction, Cooper, like his own Lea ther-stocking, still treads with elastic foot the green sward and the prairie, while Simms, our Southern novelist, ss abates no tot of heart or hope," but perseveres in the career he has so well begun Stephens has opened for us wide field of speculation by his dis covery of ancient cities in our new world {; and an occasional burst of melody from the Northern Tyre, touched by the fingers of Bryant, or Lowell, gives us the assurance, that though unstrung, 1t is not yet shattered yet these are but " rali nantes in gurgite vasto," and the support and maintenance of American Literature now mainly depends<on the zeal and honesty of few of our best mag azines, which have the penetration to know and love the forcible and true, in thought and expression; and the integrity, unawed by pop ular or party clamor, to publish or proclaim it!

 Where are our authors, and how employed? i? Washington Irving, taking lessons in diplo- macy at the grave Spanish court Bryant. the editor oi party print, the most prosaic of all human occupations; Halleck, turning his attention from book-making to book-keep- ing, of the two, we doubt not, far the more profitable employment; Cooper, almost the only one who keeps the field, waeine war against pestllent horde of hornets, which have been attacking him, much to the delight of the public, who however should recollect that, '' Insects have driven the lion mad ere now" and that 1t is an indication of very unwholesome state of public feeling, fto say the least of it,) when such attempts are not l frowned down by an indignantpubic Where then IS our literature, we ask again and the only reply which can be given is, that it must be sought for In the ephemeTal pages of Mag azine or Review, or in the still more heeting columns of the weekly, or daily newspaper; and In these fragile Repositories, we often meet with bursts of eloquence, of pathos. and of poetry, worthy of a stronger casket; and evnclng the hidden germs s~of talent needing but light and culture to spring up in full life and vigor, and produce boundless harvest

 It IS amournful thing to contemplate. when the voice of free and prosperous people can find only such an imperfect utterance as this: not naturally dumb, but finding none to listen to its first imperfect utterances, and train it to clear and speech. It is proof, that there must be something at the bottom radically wrong-what that something is, it behoves us to investigate. Let us see if we can trace 1t. It may be replied to this, that we have inherited literature with our language, that the English literature, with it's world-renown- ed names and priceless treasures of thought, IS ours by right of birth, and that we need no other; but is this true, can any one pre- tend, that the works of the master minds of England, are familiar to the great mass of our people; and their names regarded as house. hold words; alas 1t is not so, and every ed- ucated man knows and deplores the fact Some of them no doubt are familiar to the people, as Shakespeare for example, but he is the property of the whole civilized world; so too with Milton, and probably few of the more recent English authors but to the great bulk of our people, the sswell of Eng fish undeiled,'' from which they are told to drink, IS sealed spring, and they are driven to qnench their thirst at the muddy and pol luted streams of German mysticism, or French licentiousness. Our rvery language has shared Tn the general deterioration it is no longer the bold manly Saxon tongue which is spoken now, but piebald iargon of mingled Latin, Erppch and Epolich T.. l.

 teel to speak good English, It must be plen- tifully interlarded with scraps of French, or Italian, to please the fastidious ear of ss good society,"" and the sweet and simple ballads which made music of the English tongue, fT7rr ia ssy Fl A==--

 place 10 Italian " "Cavatinas,' and " Dolce Concentos." We know that these oninons may subject us to the charge of being ssGothic'' and " od-fashioned," and.to such other ele- gant phrases of fashionable contempt; while with another and better class, we will be ac- cused of undertaking the intelligence of the American peODlp. Sir,co p,,,,- ,,oI