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 " Brownlows." 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 Hr. 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
essays (numbering up by this time, we can't con-
jecture how many) from the inexhaustible and
always exhilarating " Cornelius O'Dowd," 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 (1 I), and
Mr. Gladstone. Manifestly—as it is here put—the
leadership is expected to devolve upon the rigbt
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 for
February. Phineas Fiun, during the course
of it, returns to Killaloo " like a god "
(he's always being likened to a god) and then back
again to London, where he dines 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 Breutford,
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 simply—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 " On 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 7 entitle Bar for February.
familiar to us. They are so
fa
And yet the best of the droll things here given are
•
good,lon
gs
however,ince perfectly
thawe are glad to renew our ac-
quaintance with them. Among the most laconic,
for instance—

" horps'
Corpse."
Or, that rather equivocal tribute to a celebrated
pyrotechnist—
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."

the
"Ihvibe.iliaalitiortale,
- -
Or, that delightfully ridiculous one ' °ll Lady
O'Looney—
" Here lies Lady O'Looney,
Groat Niece of Burke, commonly called" The Sublime."
Jones,
arie now
She was bland, passionate, and deeply religious
Also she painted in water colours,
i ton i
A Shead
was
st
firstseveral
cou
spicturesto
Lady
And of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”
The two serial stories in Temple Blr
rapidly winding out to a completion _he
the one
by the author of" Archie Love'," hamed,r`)
Norway."
L" Stephen
Lawrence, Yeoman ;"—hera Sheridan
novel, called " A Lost Name." The 3 Fanu's
fourth an 1
concluding chapter is also given of the
entitled " The Little Gordon."
Yen contri-
butes some animated " Sketches from
Lady Herbert, dating from 4, St. •
December,
1867," describes, with her always livaeT
lumi-
nous pen, "TWO Months in the West in/ and "
Lovers
of fiction at its lightest, will turn with Indies."
to " The Truth, the Whole Truth,
author of " Cometh up as a Flower ;" e c"" by the
of
"_ and to " The
Squire's Pew," by the author
would
penis Donne."
Temple Bar, a few years back, 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 Louvaine. The gossipper on 4, Talk" discourses
again very pleasantly on a theme suggestive enough
in its way of agreeable ane ete and amusing re-
minis ences. There is a
solid,
o
, substantial argument
enough, "On Iron Forts 1 and Shields ;" and a
sprightly, vivacious, discursive
paper on " Three
Lyrists"—by the addition of Moore to the group,
the number mightjustas 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 e not a syllable too many have
we here or anywhere
else about Belanger, that
Prince of Son • gwriters. Matthew Arnold's notable
disquisi •
"Anarchy
ton on
l and Authority" is simply
continued --not rnnot co
was the title, some p eted. "Neighbour Nelly"
years ago in Household Words,
of a charming,d •
may 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 Maurier, makes
s marvel anew how it is that
l
all Mr. Du Manlier': adies are so exactly like one
another that they seem not only to be near rela-
tions, not only members of the same family, not
but
only twin sisters, almost one might say, one
and the same individual tricked out in different
costumes—the dresses, however, being so very much
alike as to aid in no
way in carrying 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, the
following :

Glory of warrior, glory of orator, glory of song,
Paid with a voice flying by to bo lost on an endless sea—
Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong—
Nay, but she aitn'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 b 3 dust,
Would she have heart to endure fur the life of the worm
and the fly ?
She desires no isles a the blest, no quiet sea 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 " Realmab," 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 Horne." Robert Buchanan has another of his
" London Lyrics," this time about the moon 1
" 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 i❑ Punch have been the
only equine pictures worth looking at in
that Loudon 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"
—6, 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 in " 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 dew 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