The Sun.
London, England, 1868-02-04 00:00:00

THE MAGAZINES.

BLACKWOOD.—The authoress of " The Chronicles
of Carlingford," and as such the creator of Tozer
Deacon of Salem Chapel and Butterman of Carling-
ford—Mrs. 011iphant, in other words—here brings
her latest serial story in Maga to a conclusion. Al-
though, as we took occasion to remark last month,
it has been rather spun out of late—now that it is
done with, we shall miss " rownlo ws." Oddly enough
the tone of almost all the characters towards the
completion of the narrative might be the most aptly
defined as—querulous. There is a fretful irritation
about them, nearly one and all, that at last seems
almost to infect the reader of the tale as well. Alto.
gether we cannot look upon this narrative as by any
means the most successful production of one of the
most voluminous and accomplished among the
female novelists of our generation. A review of the
recently published " Memoirs of Sir Philip Francis"
is in no way complimentary toFrancis himself, to his
alter ego " Junius," to his latest biographers, Mr.
Joseph Parkes and Mr. Herman Merivale, or to
anything or anybody in any conspicuous manner
associated with a discussion, the prolongation of
which appears to be simply insufferable to the
critic in Blackwood. A fifth instalment of " Linda
Tressel" is followed by another cluster of apropos
sbythis
the time,inex
inexhaustible and
con-
jecture urehow (numberingmany)"
from
always exhilarating " Cornelius O'Dowel," who is
to Charles Lever what " Elia" was to Charles
Lamb—not only his other self, but almost his better
self. The first of a series of " Historical Sketches
of the Reign of George IL" portrays for us his
Queen—Caroline. Another Queen—rather worthier
of contemplation—Maga here enables to portray
herself through a series of charming, and by this
time tolerably familiar extracts; meaning of course
our own beloved Sovereign, through the medium
of her recently published " Journals." The political
article in Blackwood for February is a vigorous
paper on " Fenianism"—descriptive, at the same
time, of the Irish both at home and abroad, evi-
dently by the same writer who has of late con-
tributed to Maga so many interesting papers upon
subjects relating for the most part to America.
ST. PAUL'S.—Mr. Anthony Trollope's magazine
of St. Paul's is chiefly remarkable in this February
instalment for a political enquiry which is thus put
(rumour says by the Editor himself) —" Whom shall
we make Leader of the New House of Commons ?"
The choice lying, as the writer puts it, between
these five possible leaders—Mr. Disraeli, Lord
Stanley, Lord Cranborne (!), Mr. Bright (! !), and
Mr. Gladstone. Manifestly—as it is here put—the
leadership is expected to devolve upon the right
hon. gentleman last mentioned. That, at any rate,
is the anticipation of the political vaticinator of St.
Paul's. " All for Greed," politely but for all that
absurdly put in the place of honour in each number
of Mr. Trollope's magazine, advances by three
chapters—Mr. Trollope's own serial story ad-
vancing by four in the instalment fur
February. Phineas Finn, during the course
of it, returns to Killaloe " like a god "
(he's always being likened to a god) and then back
again to London, where he dices with Mr. Turnbull
(Mr. Trollope's mode of spelling the name of Mr.
Bright), besides seeing Lady Laura more than once,
and catching a glimpse or two of Lord Brentford,
Lord Chiltern, and some others. Another of Mr.
Millais' charming illustrations to " Phineas Finn"
shows us this month at a glance Lady Laura, Lord
Chiltern, and Violet Effingham. There is an amus-
ing magazine paper descriptive of Paul Gossett's
adventures among the brigands, and entitled " My
First Mission under F. 0." The upshot of the
whole being 8- i
mply —a sell ! There are among the
contents besides the papers already mentioned—a
sensible article on Army Organisation, and a vigo-
rously outspoken one on " The Irish Church," as
well as a chapter " Ou Sporting," full of pleasant
anecdotes of an illustrative character.
TEMPLE BAR.—The contribution in which
Frances Power Cobbe has gathered together a choice
assortment of French and English Epitaphs is the
most amusing paper in
• Temple Bar for February.
And yet the best of the droll things here given are
long since perfectly familiar to us. They are so
good, however, that we are glad to renew our ac-
quaintance with them. Among the most laconic,
for instance—

" f horps'
Corpse."
Or, that rather equivocal tribute to a celebrated
pyrotechnist-
-4' He is gone where alone his fireworks can be exceeded."
Or, that slanderous one on a neighbouring defunct—
" Here lies Margaret Sexton,
Who never did ought that vest one,
Not like the woman under the next stone."
Or, that delightfully ridiculous one on Lady
O'Looney--
" Here lies Lady O'Looney,
Groat Niece of Burke, commonly called " Th 3 Sublime."
She was bland, passionate, and deeply religious ;
Also she painted in water colours,
And sent several pictures to the exhibition ;
She was first cousin of Lady Jones,
An -1 of such is the Kingdom of Heaven."
The two serial stories in Temple Blr are now
rapidly winding out to a completion--here the one
by the author of " Archie Level," named, "Stephen
Lawrence, Yeoman ;"—here Sheridan L 3 Fanu's
novel, called " A Lost Name." The fourth an l
concluding chapter is also given of the minor tale,
entitled " The Little Gordon." IVellhaven contri-
butes some animated " Sketches from Norway."
Lady Herbert, dating from " St. Thomas, December,
1867," describes, with her always lively and lumi-
nous pen, "Two Months in the West Indies." Lovers
of fiction at its lightest, will turn with satisfaction
to " The Truth, the Whole Truth,,&e.," by the
author of " Co:neth up as a Flower ;" and to " The
Squire's Pow,",by the author of " Denis Donne."
Temple Bar, a few years back, would have been a
marvel of cheapness at half-a-crown.
THE CORNHILL.—CharIes Lever's serial story of
" The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly," adorned with
another of Miss Edwardes' coarsely pencilled yet
pretty illustrations carries the reader from Albano
to Louvaiue. The gossipper on " Talk" discourses
again very pleasantly on a theme suggestive enough
in its way of agreeable anecdote and amusing re-
miniscences. There is a solid, substantial argument
enough, "On Iron Forts and Shields ;" and a
sprightly, vivacious, discursive paper on " Three
Lyrists"—by the addition of Moore to the group,
„he number might just as well have been made
Four—" Horace, Burns, and Beranger." Not enough,
however, to our mind is said about Horace—a great
deal too much, according to our judgment of him, is
made of Burns—while not a syllable too many have
we here or anywhere else about Belanger, that
eriuee of Songwriters. Matthew Arnold's notable
disquisition on " Anarchy and Authority" is simply
continued —not completed. "Neighbour Nelly"
was the title, some years ago in Household Words,
of a charming, dainty little lyric by poor Robert
Brough. It is here taken as the title of a graceful
magazine tale—the illustration to which, by George
Du Manlier, makes us marvel anew how it is that
All Mr. Du Maurier's ladies are so exactly like one
another that they seem not only to be near rela-
tions, not only members of the same family, not
only twin sisters, but almost, one might say, one
and the same individual tricked out in different
costumes—the dresses, however, being so very much
.dike as to aid iu no way in g carryin ' out any illusion.
MACMILLAN.--As with a flourish of trumpets, we
here have set forth in the place of honour as the
New Poem by Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate, thJ
following :

Glory of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song,
Paid with a voice flying by to be lost on an endless sea—
Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong
Nay, but she airn'd not at glory, no lover of glory she :
Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.
The wages of sin is death: if the wages of Virtue be dust,
Would she have heart to endure fur the life of the worm
and the fly ?
She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet koa Of the just,

To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer sky :
Give her the wages of going on, and not to die.

•With the highest admiration for the genius of Mr.
Tennyson, we cannot think that anything like this
put forth thus separately and conspicuously will
advance by a hair's breadth his already immense
popularity and his already great reputation. Arthur
Helps continues his " Realmah," and the author of
the " Heir of Redcliffe" her " Chaplet of Pearls."
George Meredith sings of "The Orchard and the
Heath," reminding us of Esher and of Wey-
bridge. Fanny Kemble descants on the charac-
ter of " Lady Macbeth." And Professor Seeley
pronounces judgment on " Milton's Political Opi-
nions." Other contributions of a miscellaneous
kind make up the February number of Macmillan.
LONDON SOCIETY—AIways as light and airy as
the gay young Barnacle of " Bleak House," Lon-
don Society is as profusely illustrated and as merrily
written as ever. John Gilbert's is the first embel-

lishment in the February number—a Van Am-
burghish picture in its way sufficiently sensational
as an incident. Major Whyte Melville continues
his oddly entitled —"Bones and I, or the Skeleton
at Home." Robert Buchanan has another of his
" London Lyrics," this time about the moon !
"Thumbnail Studies" carry us this time—like the
children's game of honey-pots—on a crossed pencil
and pen—into the playhouse. G. B. Goddard—
whose horsey sketches in Punch have been the
only equine pictures worth looking at in
that London Charivari since the lamented death
of John Leech—delineates "More Dogs of Note ;"
one of these animals, however (vide p. 179),
being simply incomprehensible. A strange story,
called " Twenty-four Hours," and another, entitled
"A Modern Vendetta"—a commemoration of " The
Westminster Play," drawn both in pencil and
pen-and-ink—a few " Theatrical Novelties,"
and some " Police My steries"—a tale about
" Miss Sophy's Crutch"—" Answers to Charades"
+-" Meeting a Valentine," and we know not what
all, make up the February number of London So-
ciety. The " sensation" of the number, however, is
the incident illustrated by John Gilbert iu " The
Modern Vandetta," as the tale is here told
by the authoress of " Barbara's History"—
an incident in which Jungla, the Van Am-
burgh of the occasion, saves himself from
being treacherously given up to certain dea' h by
the Manager (who has kept the Lions without
food for three days), by snatching up the little
child of the Manager (whom Jungla suspects by
the way) just before entering the Lion's Den at
the climax of the performances. The situation is
--the confession of his own guilt by the Manager
in order to save the life of his little daughter !

DM PARIS.