The Sun.
London, England, 1836-01-01 00:00:00

FRASER'S MAGAZINE.

Here are not less than.seventy-nine pages of a single I
joke, 'yclept the " Fraserian Festival I" Now, really
this is being liberal over much. Lady Bountiful
herself could not have lavished her good things with
more oppressive munificence. Conceive a jeux d'esprit
--one, solitary jeux d'csprit .I—consisting of twice as
many joints as O'Connell's tail! Has Oliver Yorke
no bowels ? Has he no notion that the majority of
his readers are industrious, hard-working folks, who
must be up betimes in the morning ; and that the
effects of such a lengthy joke as he has furnished them
with, cannot be dispersed under a sixteen hours
slumber ? Nevertheless, though we object to its in-
ordinate long-windedness,
WC are from denying that
the
" Fraserian Festival " has its redeeming points.
In places it is replete with pungency and " sportive
malice," which can
offend none, while they must
amuse all ; and contains more than one clever sample
of humourous poetry, which smell, not of the lamp,
but of the grape, and afford a. suffiCient refutation of
the Old adage—" When the wine is in, the wit is
out." The quizzes upon ti4l. literary peculiarities of
some of the leading authors of the day might bring a
grin into the refractory phiz of even the cynic Dio-
gencs ;and for these; we f
take for granted, that we arc
indebted to O'Doherty. With the srinkbble ;between
Fraser and Watts, of which we hate more than enough
in the present,fiumber, we have nothing to do ; but
leave the -parties to settle their disputes themselves.

One point, however, is curious. By way of punish-
ment, Fraser threatens never to abuse Watts again !
This is irresistible. " Regina's Maids of Honour"
is an engraving, containing portraits of Miss Mitford,
Mrs. Norton, Lady Blessington, Miss Landon, Miss
Jane Porter, and others. The latter's fine Siddonian
countenance is well hit off. Mrs. Norton, too, is not
amiss, though there is too much of theatrical display
in the expression of her countenance. The literary ex-
planation of the engraving is arch and good-humoured.
" A few words more to the Conservatives" is, like the
" finally" of a prolix preacher, the prelude to a long
diatribe against the Whigs and all things Whiggish.
Its manner is only less offensive than its matter. But
what is to be expected from such a set of incurables as
compose the Fraserian Tory clique ? " Can any good
come out of Nazareth ?" The translations from the
minor Greek Poets—those from " Moschus" espe-
cially—are executed in an easy, graceful spirit. We
are glad to see a taste for this sort of scholarship re-
viving among us. Blackwood led the way, and now
Fraser is following nearly, if not quite " passibus
cequis." But the best article in the Number is that
devoted to recollections of Sir Walter Scott, whose
energies—if what is here stated be true, and we see
no reason to doubt it—are without parallel in the annals
of literature. Many of his ablest tales, such as
" Ivanhoe" and the " Tales of my Landlord," were
actually composed in bed, while the author was racked
with pain and disease I—
" I have dwelt on this period of his life because it is so
remarkable that, during the severe conflict with illness, he
scarcely for one entire day relinquished his literary tasks.
Indeed, they advanced the more quickly, as he had not so
much interruption as usual from visitors. The third series
of Tales of my Landlord,' which appeared in 1819, was
followed so rapidly by the romance of Ivanhoe,' that' it
seemed as if, like the German La Fontaine, he had attained
the art of dictating to twcr secretaries, and earring. on two
stories at one time. To dictating (of original composition)
be had always a particular aversion, but was now under the
necessity of employing a scribe, his own scrolls being
almost quite illegible. Both Ivanhoe' and the ' Bride of
Lammermuir' were produced while under that painful dis-
order ; and the duty of amanuensis was fulfilled alternately
by Mr. William Laidlaw and the late Mr. John Ballantyne.
Frequently, in the midst of the humourous scenes with old
Caleb Balderstone,' the convulsive paroxysm would return,
and his sufferings were most acute ; but after the fit, he
would cheerfully and quietly take up the story by the catch-
word, and proceed as if there had been no interruption.
" Thus the malady was resisted and overcome ; and in
the course of 1820 he appeared so thoroughly renovated in
constitution, that his friends fondly trusted he might equal
in longevity his friends, Henry Mackenzie or Sir Robert
Liston, and continue his literary pursuits for even thirty
years more. But, alas ! as Drummond of Hawthorden
predicted of his own illness,
Truce ta'en to breathe
For late-born sorrows augurs swift return.'
Only twelve more years of life were granted to hiin ; and,
as already said, I doubt whether, in the whole range of
biography, an example could be found of another individual
Who, in equal space of time, fulfilled so many, so diversified,
and conflicting duties.
" In 1819 or 1820, I forget which, occurred the marriage
of his eldest daughter with Mr. Lockhart, and the appoint-
ment of the present Sir Walter to a commission in the
army. From this date onwards, to the year 1825, his life
was spent in assiduous -labour, but also in the most unin-
terrupted happiness and prosperity. In 1820 appeared the
Monastery' and Abbot,' and in January, 1821, Kenil-
worth :' •so that, not forgetting Ivanhoe,' here were four
romances, of three volumes each, completed within twelve
months ; and, bad Constable's house been in reality solvent
(of which, at this period, no one entertained a shadow of
doubt), the dear gain must, without any exaggeration,lave
been a very large sum."
We remember hearing an anecdote connected with
Sir Walter Scott, which we believe, but are not certain,
has not yet found its way into print. When lying on
the bed of sickness in Sussex-place; it happened that
one day he was seized with a fancy for a particular
species of fish. Unfortunately it was not to be, pro-
cured at the West-end, so the servant was dispatched east-
ward, where, after threading a variety of streets, and
meeting with a variety -of disappointments, he at last
met with the dainty at a Whitechapel fishmonger's.
But his application was made too late. The fish was
sold, and the tradesman resolute in his rejection of all
terms. At last he enquired whom it was wanted for,
and being duly enlightened thereon, replied '‘ for Sir
Walter Scott, hey ? Oh, that is a different matter ;"
and not only insisted on supplying the fish gratis, but
even on trudging up with it himself the whole way to
SusSex-plaCe, in order, we conclude,. that in: future
times he might be enabled to boast of having " done
business" with Sir Walter Scott ! Here is a proof of
the talismanic pow.er of genius. To subdue the sense
of self-interest in a, Whitechapel fishmonger
Was ever such a triumph ?—We shall always
think the better of human nature for this one
delightful anecdote ; and the very hour at which
we pen it is calculated tp quicken, our humanity ; for
it is deep, solemn midnight—the old year is all but
dead, and the new, within' five minutes of its birth.
How mat)), fine spirits have passed from among us to
their great account, since our expiring friend was in
the first vigour of his youth ! How many will be
still, ere his successor is in the same hopeless state!
Truly, these reflections are aught but cheering ; but
they have this advantage—namely, that as they teach
us to turn our thoughts inwards, and feel more acutely
for ourselves, so they exalt and refine, and quicken our
sympathies for others.

THE DUBLIN UNIVERSITY MAGAZINE
Simpkin and Marshall.
Our friend' Anthony Poplar commences the new
year with all the vigour, elasticity, and freshness of
sanguine and happy boyhood ; and with a respect for
traditionary usages, beautiful in youth, presents his
admirers with a welcome New-year's offering—the
first literary portrait of a " Gallery of Illustrious
Irishmen." We are pleased to find this series begun
with Goldsmith. His is a portrait :3•hich every good
man must admire ; and upon which all classes of IriSh
Men may look without experiencing a pang...on_the
subject of his principles, his pursuits, or the immor-
tal legacy which he has left to posterity. Still we have
to regret that the strict political neutrality which ought
to be observed with inviolable fidelity in this depart-
ment of literature, is here outraged to an extent which
nothing can palliate. The right of sanctuary ought
never to be abolished in the literary world, how in-
convenient soever it may be found in the physical.
Some shrine should be reared and preserved, in the
presence of which the portraits of the mighty dead
might be exhibited without reproach to the opinions of
the living. What conceivable connexion is there be-
tween correct delineations of the character of Gold-
smith, and such passages as this : " His fa-
ther, indeed, was poor ; but it is worth
remarking, that—though an Irish Clergyman—
he was not the object of licensed persecution—
he was not hunted down by form of -law—he
had not the bloodhounds of revolution at his back, with
a patriotic Government hallooing the monsters on to
their work of destruction : these 'things were not yet
in fashion ; so he actually was enabled to send his
gifted son to a respectable school ; and though he be-
longed to the Established Church of the land, he was
suffered to live, -to behold the first developement of the,
promising talents of his child." And again—" Tired
of Lord John Russell% Reform turned out a tragedy,
and his tragedies wanting Reform—tired of Lord Mul-
grave's Novels without novelty, and, indeed, of every.
other production of his brain, except his last amusing
' pantomime, the Government of Ireland, and a really
laughable farce that is ;—in such a state of all embrac-
ing weariness, how revert the lingering eyes• of recoilcc•
tion to the honest solidity of Johnson ! .Terror of
Whigs ! With what circumvolution of contemptuous