The Sun.
London, England, 1861-11-01 00:00:00

THE MAGAZINES.

Blackwood's Atagazine.
" The Chronicles of Carlingford" are continued,
and this second part is more descriptive and event-
ful than its predecessor. The character of Nettie
stands out more clearly defined, and altogether the
tale progresses very considerably. Dr. Rider is in
a very uncomfortable state of mind, alternating
between admiration of Nettie, with her frank fear-
lessness and resolute self-denial, mingled with de-
cision and right authority, and his natural disgust
at the conduct and manners of Fred., his unworthy
brother. Nettie, herself, goes on her way unmoved
and undaunted, and to the eager protestations that
at last break forth, she calmly replies that she can-
not at present desert her trust, and that the two
households cannot amalgamate. The closing pas-
sage here recorded is a very sad one, for it relates
the untimely death of Fred., the incubus on the
comely housekeeper, the plague of his brother's
life, the wretched and degraded man had passed
away, gone to give an account of wasted days and
woeful nights that swelled up the catalogue of his
career, the few and evil years of his earthly pilgri-
mage. " How the World treats Discoverers" is a
smart article in its way, that contains some rather
sharp strictures on a work lately published, entitled
" Memoirs of Marshall Hall." In alluding to the
great discoverers of all grades, the writer sets forth
the astounding remark that "the persecution of
Galileo was perfectly legitimate." Few will sub-
scribe to this notion, and if those in authority were
to be justified in giving the lie to all they do not
exactly understand, the path of the philoeopher or
the discoverer would be thorny indeed to tread,
and the knowledge they would diffuse hidden
under a bushel till they and the generation they
would inform and enlighten had alike passed away
to the land where all things are forgotten. " Cap-
tain Clutterbuck's Champagne" has reached a
second part, and this long instalment does not
advanee the story in a very great degree, albeit, it
imparts some strange secrets regarding the motives
of some of the folks encountered in its intricate
pathways. "Mr. Buckle's Scientific Errors" is an
elaborate treatise on the subject, that presents
knotty points for the reader to discuss and weighty
matters to settle. It is written in a fair spirit of
criticism, and if here and there the remarks are
severe in their sarcasm, it is throughout acknow-
ledged that the author treated of is of first-rate
talents and of consummate skill. It is said, at last
"In concluding our notice of his scientific errors,
it is but common honesty to say that we have
mentioned all the errors we have observed.
For ourselves, we have spoken of Mr. Buckle's
errors without reticence, but we have to add that
were they more numerous they would not prevent
our admiration of his abilities, nor our respect of
his learning." Such criticism reflects credit alike
on the critic and the criticised. It exhibits that
power of discernment of such priceless value and
so often found wanting in those who sit in judg-
ment on the works or pass their opinions upon the
lives of others. Because they differ on essential
points it does not inevitably result that the opposite
party is all wrong, and if they cannot see the use
of this act and the force of that remark, others as
wise as themselvers may do so, and at any rate, if
it is an unmitigated error, there may be merits to
discern in the offender that more than redeem the
mistake, or at least can counterbalance its effects
in the general estimate arrived at. " Sir Cresswell
Cresswell " is the title of some striking verses that
will be appreciated by those who like humorous
sketches and apt illustrations of passing events
and actual characters. The last verses are as fol-
low :

" But then how good Sir Cresswell is I
Sense, temper, firmness, all are his,
If I on earth were made Dictator,
His powers, now great, should still be greater,
There's many a wrong we could redress well
If aided by Sir Cresswell Cresswell.
0 I what a World of peace and pleasure
Would spring up from that healing measure I
When, mended every luckless blunder,
All ill-matched things were put asunder.
The golden days of Good Queen Bess well
Might yield to those of Great Sir Cresswell.
The (once so-called) United States,
Now quarrelling worse than angry Mates,
Might find a course at least as good
As shedding one another's blood
'Twould end their discord and distress well,
To be divorced by old Sir Cresswell.
Venetia, if her lord and master
By kindness cannot fix her faster,
Will some day soon the band dissever,
Whose galling grasp can't last for ever.
'Twould get them both out of that mess well,
To leave it to the wise Sir Cresswell.
But there's a thing some people want,
I'm sure Sir Cresswell would not grant.
He never would divorce Sardinia,
As if 'twere Venice or Virginia.
Our French Friend plays his game of chess well,
But could not soon checkmate Sir Cresswell."
The Stage of Weimar" is a very interesting
sketch, which furnishes us with some agreeable and
instructive notices of various dramas that elevate
the tone of the public mind, and are all artistically
arranged and carried out with admirable success
under the auspices of the reigning Prince. The
writer speaks in the warmest terms of the de-
sirability and delights of Weimar, which he
affirms to contain "all the advantages of a town
and country residence for people who cannot afford
both, and long may Karl Alexander and his heirs
after him continue not only to live among but to
rule over, by the grace of God, a happy and con-
tented people." " The inland Sea of Japan" is an
entertaining account of some adventures in that
locality, and we meet with most glowing accounts
of its marvels in the way of loveliness and mystery.
The descriptions given of this " country of pare-
daisaical renown" are very attractive. After the
sterile hills of China it appeared as if we had
reached something like the Highlands of Scotland,
clothed with tropical vegetation, or the ghauts of
Western India, in a temperate climate. From the
dark blue sea and white line of Japan there
suddenly rose dark precipices fringed with trees,
and streaked with waterfalls. Above these were
hills clothed with the richest dark green ver•
dure, and varied with wood or else by terraced
gardens and fields ; while still beyond arose pine-
covered mountains breaking through white mists
and capped with dark, slate-coloured clouds." The
representations of these:" haunts of ancient peace,"
and these
" Summer isles of Eden, lying .
In dark purple spheres of sea,"
are most fascinating; and the reader will like to
linger on the picture held to his gaze in this at-
tractive account of foreign wanderings in far off
lands• There are some lines on the Cramming
System, which exemplify the evils of that sys-
tem. They are well done on the whole. Also,
we find two other short poems, one entitled,
" The Recantation," that is a spirited translation
from Horace, and a " lugubrious ode, called " The
Search," which is not very clearly explained, but
evidently bears a dark and deep meaning. It is
written in a flowery style. There is a paper on
Mr. Ernest Renan, which will prove of interest
to learned readers who delight to ponder deeply,
and to see a subject traced out for their atten-
tive survey. This article considers " Essai de
Morale and de Critique," and " Etudes d'Histoire
Religieuse." They are, it is stated, two volumes
of his works of a class apart from the rest ; they
are a collection of criticisms upon the works of
others. A few pages at the close of this magazine
pay a deserving tribute in a gracious spirit, with
a graceful manner, to one recently removed from
this passing scene, the Earl of Eglinton. "It is
with unfeigned regret that we record in the pages
of this magazine the great loss which the country
has sustained by the early death of one of the most
amiable and accomplished of the public men who,,e
ready obedience to the calls of duty, high rectitude
of character, and rare administrative talent, have
vindicated, in this generation, the proud position
assigned to the aristocracy of the land." This
feeling and forcible memento of the illustrious de-
parted is concluded in the following passage :

" Strong political opinions have, even within the rsemory
of the present generation, in many instances detracted from
the popularity of individuals, high in station, and ani-
mated with a sincere desire to perform their duty, accord-
ing to the best of their, judgment, without regard to per-
sonal considerations. The opinions of the late earl were,
as is well known, eminently Conservative; but such was
the high esteem in which his character was universally
held, and so sincere the admiration which his high quali-
ties inspired, that he was, without exception, the most
popular nobleman in Scotland ; and even those whose views
were most diametrically opposed to his, acknowledged the
justice, and ratified the decision, of the general voice. To
the comuaonalty of the West of Scotland, the district 'n
which he usually resided, he was especially dear ; and the
strong feeling of admiration and enthusiasm created by his
first appearance as a public speaker in the year 18-14, when
he officiated as president of the famous Burns' Festival,
never underwent any diminution, but rather grew and in.
creased, year by year, until that manly heart ceased to beat,
and his spirit returned to God who gave it.
" In his capacity of Viceroy of Ireland, an office which
he twice filled, he exhibited the highest administrative
talent ; and his rule, so firm and yet so wise and rive
concilia-
tory, did more to banish prejudice and to produce harmony
than could have been anticipated from the effortsu of te
most experienced and indefatigable statesman.
removal from Ireland, when his party left office, was ence
his
re-
garded almost in the light of a national calamity; and by
the whole bulk of the population, Catholic as well as Pro-
testant, the name of Eglinton will long remain a household
word.recalling
period, when the
angry passions
faction were
ioanwere silenced, and
tohfe memorystrife
fll ofd
prosperity once more began to shed its blessings upon the
"Faint and wholly inadequate as is the tribute which we
payleaann
.
to his worth, we should do violence to our feelings
were we not to add our expression of grief to the general
mourning for the loss of this ornament to his country and
his age. Death has indeed been busy in the high plae(
s.
Not three months have elapsed since the generous and
tender-hearted Lord Herbert was summone away, and
again the shadow of the stern messenger has been seen, and
theligh-minded and chivalrous Eglinton has gone to his

rest. Bitter were the tears that have been shed for both
by those who knew and loved them ; but though Provi- •
deuce has semi fit to remove them before old age had dimmed
their vision or impaired their intellectual strength, they
have bequeathed to us a noble example of honour, rectitude,
and patriotism; and the virtues that adorned them when
living, will not be forgotten in their graves."

Dublin University Magazine.
"An only Son" is concluded and the tale is
finished in a most unsatisfactory manner. In the
first place Keane contrives to possess himself of all
Ned's fortune and goes off with the fruits of his
villainy to recommence in a new world the career
that had banished him from England, the society of
his friends and his family and the intercourse with
his employers. The next irritating point is that
Edward Lesley, from mistaken ideas of propriety,
went back to India from Gibraltar, instead of pro-
ceeding home and having an explanation with his
father. In a great battle he fell mortally wounded,
and thus all the hopes and happiness of his family
were destroyed through his listening to the machi-
nations of a wretch and foolishly putting himself in
his power. The person for whom one fees most
pity is Lucy Lockly, who was disappointed front
the outset of Ned's career, and whose only comfort in
hot life now was to watch for those returning from
India, who " kept or brought in kindliness remem-
brances of her soldier-son," and to talk with Lady
Royston, the Constance who had inspired the first
romance of love's young dream, "of him who lay be-
neath the mangoe trees. This narrative is exceed-
ingly well written, and cannot bat attract all who
dwell on its impressive scenes and well-drawn cha-
racters. " Leigh Hunt's Last Evening at Home" is
a brief sketch that is sure to arrest attention and
awaken thought. It relates the last hours spent
at home of one who is inseparably associated with
the literature of our land, It is always agreeable
to trace the inner life of those whose out-
ward career is to be hereafter inscribed on
fame's immortal scroll, and when we behold
these home-scenes that soften the picture in our
memory to a mellowed splendour that blends the
human affections with the divine gifts, we think of
the lines of the poet in his matchless ode—

" E'en as the tenderness that hour instils,
When summer's day declines along the hills,
So feels the fulness of the heart and eyes,
When all of genius that can perish dies."
There is a brief allusion to the late Earl of Eglin-
ton, which is peculiarly appropriate in the pages
of this magazine, belonging to the country where the
lamented nobleman so conspicuously shone, reflect-
ing credit on the Government who deputed him to
fill the high position and adding honour to his own
name, that will not pass away with the transitory
glories of birth and state. In very emphatic lan-
guage the writer pays a graceful tribute to his
memory :—" All sorts of Irishmen, of all sorts of
politics, seem to have formed the same estimate of
his noble nature and chivalric attachment to their
country. The sentiment was universal, and the
lamentation is unanimous." Further on it is said
that, " we are not sketching a biography, far less
a speculation; we are simply here inscribing the
record of our admiration and our regrets, adding one
more suffrage to the general voice of the Irish
press, and offering a very humble tribute to the
memory of one who has not left another exactly
like him in the whole muster-roll of the proud
peerage of England." "To live in hearts we leave
behind is not to die," has been said by one of our
great poets, and the departed scion of the house of
Eglinton may well be said to have gained that
glorious distinction, for he has realised the saying
" Omnes omnia bona dicere." " A Glimpse of the
Supernatural in the Nineteenth Century," is a very
remarkable sketch that certainly possesses the
merit of poetic justice, if not sober reality, as
the heartless murderer was irresistibly impelled
to jump into the cold stream, instead of fol-
lowing his plans of happiness in prospective.
"The Volunteer force in England and Ireland'
is the subject of an article in which the writer con-
gratulates himself not unnaturally on the fact that
the Irish are represented in the British forces of
Volunteers. "It is thoroughly well known that
Ireland contains an immense body of men of all
ranks and parties, who are as fully determined that
England shall never be at the proud feet of a con-
queror as any volunteer corps which marched
majestically through Hyde Park, inspired and
ennobled by the just pride of a worthy patriotism."
" The Prison Chaplain, the Rev. John Clay," is a
most interesting sketch of one of those human
benefactors whose works are indeed those
that in the words of a celebrated writer,
" will tell to account when thank God the
long day of life with all its labour is over for
eternity. At the outset of this notice there is a
very attractive summary of the life of Howard,
than whom no man more deserves well of his kind.
His career was ably epitomised in these lines which
indeed may suffice to demonstrate the doings of
those who like him go sorth to lead captivity cap-
tive, and to soothe the worst of the thousand ills to
which flesh is heir—

" And now philanthrophy thy rays divine,
Dart round the globe from Zemb a to the Line ;
From realm to realm with Cross or Crescent crowned,
'Vhero'er mankind or misery are found.
O'er burning sands, deep wilds and wastes of snow,
Thy Howard journeying seeks the house of woe."

All must be impressed with the account given of the
life of John Clay. It is written in a very superior
style, and of a character that is sure 'to give satis-
faction to all rightly-minded readers. "Next to
Robertson, of Brighton, Mr. Clay, of Preston, im-
presses us most with the feeling that he lived not a
life of appearance, but of reality." What " Arnold
was to schoolmasters, Clay was to chaplains and
governors of gaols."
"Rhyming Satirists" is a clover article on the sub-
ject of flippant writing, and some rema ks are made
on two most extravagant publications that appeared
last season, called "The Season, a Satire," and
"My Satire and its Censors." The many glaring
improprieties of this author's style are fully ex-
posed and appropriately commented upon. The
strange tale of " The House by the Churchyard" is
continued at some length. It is able of its kind,
and very peculiar. "At St. James's," one hundred
and fifty years ago, gives a glimpse of the
days that are o'er in reflective criticism.
There are some verses interspersed in the contents
continued in this number, taken from "Peter Brown's
Black Box." It a melancholy ditty, called " Isabel
Clare." There is also a romantic legend, " The
Woman with the Yellow Hair," that will please
romantic readers; and for the studious we find a
paper, " A Triplet of Historical Writers," which
has for subject Lord Brougham, Robert Vaughan,
and Erskine May. This serial has this month
many contents that display variety and vigour in
their several styles.