The Sun.
London, England, 1867-01-08 00:00:00

PERIODICALS.

THE BELGRAVIA—(NO. 3) —for January very
considerably advances the reputation of that
youngest amongst the shilling magazines. It has less
of what in the slang of pressmen is called padding
than its predecessors. The contributions, of which
there are as many asfourteen altogether, are almost
all of them thoroughly readable. One or two of
them are of peculiar excellence. The now in
stalment of the editor's own serial fiction—which
is still of course the pice de resistance of 13e1-
gravia, and will be so (happily for its readers) for
a good many months to come--holds us more than
ever enthralled, as the incidents number up and
the plot of the tale becomes in consequence more and
more complicated. Sustained at the same high level
of interest, it must assume its place among the hap-
piest efforts of this most popular of all our serial-
writing lady-novelists. Conspicuous among the mis-
cellaneous contributions to the current number of the
new magazine—but conspicuous chiefly for its absurd
improbability—is Tom Hood's account of "How I
won Polly and a Postmastership." The editor of Fan
is risking his reputation as a sprightly, and often
highly humorous writer—by writing overmuch.
"Dykwynkyn at Work"—a sketch by the author of
" Society" and of " Ours be turned to with
interest by the lovers of visible and risible frolic and
drollery (as broad as they are long)—as that frolic
and drollery are annually presented to view by the
said Dykwynkyn in the masks of that same most
face-tious decorator of Blanchard's Pantomimes at
Drury Lane—Dykwynkyn being the capital pseu-
donym of Mr. Richard Wynn Keene, the great
pantomimic-mask designer and fabricator ! Best,
however, of all the single papers, not only in this
number of Belgravia, but among all the numbers of
all the magazines for this present month of January,
is a story penned by a writer whose name we do not
remember ever to have met with before—one Bab-
ington White—a name we shall henceforth, however,
always hail with delight as that of the author of
this perfectly delightful little magazine story entitled
"At Daggers Drawn." It is worth anybody's
while to read it : and it certainly ought to be a fa-
vourite in every green-room, for it brings out all the
nobler qualities happily very rife indeed among the
frequenters of those same haunts of our friends the
stage players. For ourselves we have already twice
read all through this little story, entitled " At Dag-
gels Drawn," and purpose doing so a third time at
the very earliest opportunity. Altogether for fun,
for racy humour, for touches of nature, and at the
very close of it for exquisite touches of feeling, Mr.
Babington 'White's little story is in its way just
simply perfect. In the mere manner of it, it is quite
unaffectedly and idiomatically written, and it is,
from beginning to end, in one word, delightful.
THE FORTNIGHTLY REVlEW—though no longer
fortnightly at all, but henceforth a monthly
publication, and therefore a flagrant and almost
ridiculous misnomer—continues its collrze tui-
abat,d energy under the new direction. Mr. John
Morley succeeds Mr. George Henry Lewes as the
Editor of it ; and all will regret to know that the
reason for Mr. Lewes's resignation of his post is
that of ill-health—precluding him from the labour
and anxiety inevitably coupled with the conduct of a
publication such as the Fortnightly, no matter
whether the periodicity of its issue be monthly or
hi-monthly. An able, and occasionally in the
manner of it, masterly, paper upon " France
in the Seventeenth Century," penned by the new
Editor, leads off the current number for January,
No. I. of the new series, but No. XXXVIII. of
the old original one. Apart from this—the fore-
most contribution to the initial instalment of the
new series—the two other most notable portions of
its contents are—some feeble jingling stanzas, called,
for no earthly reason apparently (beyond their
childishness) " Child's Song in Winter," by
Algernon Swinburue and the five opening
chapters of a new serial story, full of promise,
called " The White Rose," by G. J. 'Whyte Mel-
ville, author of " Digby Grand," and of many
other vigorous, dashing tales of every-day life in
this our own age and country.
ANTHONY TaonLorE's Last Chronicle of Barset,
now successfully appearing week by week in Six-
penny instalments, and which on Saturday last
attained its sixth number, steadily confirms us
in the impression we have already ventured
to express in its regard that it will
be its writer's masterpiece. Lily Dale and
Johnny Eames are two of the old friends intro-
duced us again in the new number of Saturday.
Mr. Thomas continues to win fresh laurels by his
eminent success as an illustrator. Ile has already
taken such high ground in that way as the illustrator
of Wilkie Collins (vide"Armadale") and now, again,
as the illustrator of Anthony Trollope (vide the
serial hero under notice) that we quite long
to
see what he might accomplish in that way as the
illustrator of Charles Dickens—particularly after
Mr. Marcus Stone's fiasco, as the successor of Phiz
and
DUBLIN
1;1:N George
tJ ON
IrvuEi kusshrarTn.k_T
.
e pretty tale of" Cometh
up as a Flower" is
concludedh in an appropriate
manner, melancholy and impressive. " Never for
Ever" is continued, but little occurs in this instal-
ment. "Number Five Brooke-street" promises to be
a very elaborate story ; it contains some sketches
which will attract those who like variety of
incidents. " Garrick, a Round of Characters" pre-
sentssome entertaining accounts of theatrical doings.
The eloquent account of the " Rise and Influence of
English Monachism" is continued at some length.
"Parties and the Coming Session" is the political
article, which argues in favour of the present Go-
vernment, and declares that Mr. Disraeli fore-
shadowed coming events in his Fancy Franchises
some years ago. The Ministry, it is said, "will
begin the session with good ground for hope."
COLBURN'S UNITED SERVICE.—The United Ser-
vice opens the New Year with some practical articles
of the right sort, and we shall be glad of more of
them. Reform seems to pervade the spirit of the
time in the army and the navy, as in political and do-
mestic matters. Quite right, for defects ought to be
corrected, errors amended, and prudent progress
should be the order of the day. We hare but one
interest—the good of our country—which is sure to
react on all concerned. "The Bayonet" is the first
article. Its name is derived from Bayonne, once
far renowned for cutlery. It is a weapon of ominous
bearing in the charge of a daring rush. Th'e
last charge has crowned many an English victory.
" The Breach-loading Rifle Question" is well
handled ; so are " L'Ecole Polytechnic," and " Re-
organisation of the French Army," and " The Staff
of the British Army." .But what we most appreciate
is "Naval Government. " Now that Sir John
Pakington and other naval reformers, such as Sir
John Hay, are at the Admiralty, we may expect
prompt reform in that irresponsible "Board," whose
members formed a sort of round robin which
shuffled off any answer like a slippery coil of rope,
without ever coining to an end. It is pertinently
asked, what has " an extension of the franchise or a
redistribution of seats" to do with the managementof
the navy ? And yet the Board of Admiralty is cast
adrift with a change of Ministry. It is high time
these follies were abated if we hope to maintain our
naval supremacy.

COLBUEN'S NEW MONTHLY.—This umber opens
with an article of some length on the position and
prospects of our British American provinces. These
extensive possessions arc daily growing in import-
ance, and we are glad to find them attracting their
due share of public attention in this country. " Con-
tinental Christmas Legends" is an entertaining
paper, and there is also a semi-ghost story of New
Year's-eve, quite suitable to the season. We have
besides the continuation of " Idalion," the instal-
ment containing some important revelations, and
some further chapters of Mrs. Bushby's " Snowed
Up." For graver topics there is not much room,
but there are several miscellaneous papers of much
interest.

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. —The Editor's novel,
" Old Court," goes on rapidly. Sir Hugh being
convinced of his nephew's right to the estates
offers them to his acceptance. Clarence, however,
steadily refuses to deprive his cousin of her inheri-
tance, and departs, no one knows whither. Francis
Yacox takes his cue as usual from Shakspere, "'Too
strange for fiction, not too strange to be true," and
cites numerous expressions from poet, essayist, and