The Sun.
London, England, 1842-03-01 00:00:00

MAGAZINE DAY

BLACKWOOD;S MAGAZINE.

Though there is no lack of erudition in the essay
on the " Pagan Oracles," which leads off the present
Number, yet there is a vagueness and mistyness about
it, which is anything but inviting to the general
reader. The author does not keep his theme sxtffi.-

ciently in view, but is constantly wandering fromit.
His ablest passages are theintroductory ones, wherein
he casually alludes to the Greek and Latin FatherS'Of
the early Christian Church, of whom he justly 'Ob-
serves, they were the eliie of their own age, but not
in advance of it. They, like all 'their contemporarrais,
were besieged by errors, ancient, traditional, invete-
rate ; and accidentally, from one cause special 1:10
themselves,. they were not Merely liable to.error, but
usually prone to error." The Emperor !Julian—of
whom also a passing mention is made—is much too
harshly dealt with, for though he was not the hero
and sage that Gibbon, in his avowed admiration, has'
made it. appear that he was, yet he certainly was not'
" a malicious and unprincipled liar," for, at least, he
is entitled to the merit of having acted from convic-'
lion. There is much truth in this remark respecting.
th&famous Grecian Oracle Prudence it was, and
state-policy, not the power of Christianity, which
gave thel.final shock to the grander functions of the
Delphic Oidele. In the new condition of the Roman

power, there virtis a perpetual peril, lest an oracle so
potent as that orYelhi, should absolutely create re-
bellions, by first sugiestins• hopes to men in high
commands." In the " NOtes, '
,on the Fishers of the
Scotch East Coast," we recogn isq,,thp pen of a lively
and forcible descriptive writer. Here is a vivid sketch
of the interior of a Scottish fisherman's cottage :
Let us enter one of their villages-one of their cottages. The
outside of every row of the low-walled cottages is festooned on
ropes with jackets, petticoats, and bright-patterned handker-
chiefs, or else these articles dry peacefully on the thatch. Oc-
casionally haulins, tipped with hooks,. are seen; or creels or
marlins, clustered round a pole, which overtops even the
wooden mum or chimney itself. The men are at sea, many
women away disposing of their fish, and only nursing mothers,
and happy, noisy, playful, and dirty children enliven the scene.
A solitary sullied scagul, or a scrath (cormorant), a huge grey
creature, three feet long, with wing clipped, a captive, struts
with a solemn half-happy pride about the mussel mid-
dens, or wades through the gutters, or approaches
the edge of the undulating wave, which rushes gently
up to kiss the smooth sand-beach. Enter one of their cot-
tages. The floor is earthen; but being Saturday afternoon,
is neatly sanded over, from the door inwards to the hesrth.
There is no pautage. The cottage consists of two rooms, a
" but and a ben." At the far end from the doer, the turf fire

is burning on a hearth of becks, and the smoke ascends past the
couples out at a hole in the roof. As the evening is approaching,
the fish oa hakes (wooden triangles, with nails for hooks),
which, during the day, hung outside the walls to dry, are now
su pended on them inside. In one corner a few deal boards are
nailed. so as to make a bed for children above, and a place for
fuel below. A wooden cradle is opposite. The seats are fir
stools and chairs, and the little round turning-up table is of the
same material, and all arc as clean and white as snow. Oars,
wicker baskets, avid creels and nets, are placed on the couples.
Let a re.ard fir Finnan paddies invest these details-with in-
terest and respect; for, from'such a scene, and such an envi-
ronment, do they pass on their way to make up that feast for
the gods—a Scotch breakfast. The evening darkens in, and
the " eruisie," a small iron lamp, is lit up. A patriarchal
family assembles, including sometimes four generations. Let a
reverence for the great domestic drama of every-day life, of
which these humble details make up the scene, stir the imagi-
nation to realize them all—the grandam with her grandchild
upon her knee—the nursing mother, the toiling fatker, the
children gazing at their elders studiously—th,s, little fellow
asleep on the net on the floor, and the small light struggling
with the smoke to display all. I will look at the Claudes and
the Titians in your pictured dravving.room another time. It is
a poor place, but you cannot fill your palace with more interest-
ing things than it sees—births, deaths, marriages—life.
Of the fishwomen on the eastern coast of Scotland,
we are told that they are all married young, and that
an old maid is scarcely known among them. " Sel-
dom," adds the writer, " are their marriages un-
happy. Prostitution is hardly known. Occasionally
the first child comes very soon; but generally the
women are chaste." We have been-pleased with the
following. anecdote :—" In the spring of last year the
traveller was shown the entire clothing of two sea-
men, who had been cast ashore and decently in-
terred on the spot. The clothes lay exactly as they
had been taken off the bodies, the braces still hooked
to the back-buttons, the boots and everything were
good. Yet the neighbouring poor had left them
scrupulously untouched! A boat, which has once
cost a life, is never again used by a Buchan fisher ;
it is drawn up on a lonely part of the beach until it
rots, or is destroyed by the first storm that reaches
it." " Caleb Stukel,y" is an entertaining story, the
scene of which is laid in Cambridge. The sketch of
the gouty Vice-Chancellor, who, after delivering a
devout and eloquent homily on Christianity, " damns"
his listener for a "young villain" because he happens
accidentally to break the bell-rope, is highly charac-
teristic. The " Portraits of Versailles" is sufficiently
explained by its title. The writer's lamentations,
however, for the loss of the "glorious times of Ver-
sailles," are sheer cant. What Frenchman, with his
country's interest at heart, could possibly sigh for the
restoration of such times—when dissipation and reck-
less extravagance were esteemed virtues, and passive
obedience was the fashion of the day ? Thank God,
times like these are past for ever, in France as well
as in England! The " Prussian Monarchy" is a re-
view of an amusing work lately published, entitled,
" Frederick the Great, and his Times." The " North-
ern Circuit" is cleverish, which is as much as we can
say in its praise. The "World of London" justly
satirizes the doeknes for their inordinate passion
for shows and processions. The " New Houses of Par-

iament" contains several judicious observations on the,
,aw of design.

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

The variety of matter in this month's Miscellany,
which alternates most agreeably between the grave
and the gay, proves that it has lost nothing by its
change of .Editorship. Neither is there any falling
off in the illustrations, which tare more lively and
numerous than they have been for some time past.
Alfred Crowquill contributes two highly humorous
plates illustrative of the " Philosophy of Physic," one
of which, under the quaint title of " Two Pumps Con-
sulting," represents a fat phySician with a bald head,
and spectacles on nose, engaged in learned conference
with a pump, on which are stuck a doctor's wig and
hat, while the handle does duty as an arm. Of the
two medical professors, the .--pump looks by far the
most sagacious, though there is an air of dignified,
goose-like gravity about his companion by no means
to be despised, for we verily believe that half the secret
of a physician's success consists in a grave and formal
phiz. No patient ever encourages, a sprightly-visaged'
doctor. Such a biped is 'an impertinence=a solecism
—in a sick-room. If we must have an M.D. by our
bed-side, with a watch *in one hand, while with the
other he fumbles about for our pulse, we prefer one
who looks as solemn as if he had just come from the
funeral of one of his patients. Another illustration
represents Death poking his grim, fleshless counten-
ance
out of a mortar, evidently more to the annoyance
than the surprise of an apothecary, who accordingly
aims a vicious blow at his' skull with a pestle. The
sarcastic leer on the face of the gaunt phantom is very
archly pourtrayed. Of the article which these plates
illustrate, we cannot speak so favourably. It is, in
truth, a flippant, common-place affair, stuffed full of
excruciating puns, which it is clear that the writer
mistakes for wit and humour. The theme, though
not novel, was a tempting, one, but it has been marred
in the treatment. The " Harmonious Owls" is a spi-
rited quiz on singing clubS,.introduced by some pithy,
pertinent remarks on the system of clubs in general.
The satire is justly applied, and.is remarkable for its
breadth and freedom. The "Enthusiast at Shak-
spere's Tomb"—a ShakAperian enthusiast, by the
bye, is apt to be an awful bore, and most superficially
acquainted. with his author—is, an account of a visit
paid last year to Stratford-on-Avon. The descrip-
tion is3lively and graphic, and the colouring not over-
charged. The illustration, representing the interior of
an old-fashioned chamber is as picturesque as the best of
Cattermole's plates in "Master Hurnphrey'S Clock."
rite well about St.
" Valentine's Day" is a pleasant, seasonable subject,
need not wonder
therefore, that Miss Carey has acquitted' herself sue
PlVeaalesnantitnlye _h itth oe
iffr.
pet s Ladiesainatl—w ay,yes
cessfully. But the Penny Postman is the man to
write most feelingly, if not complimentarily, on this
topic, bending, as he does, from morning till night,
beneath a load of delicate embarrassments. " Rambling
Reflections on St. Valentine" from his pen would he a
great treat. In the present chapters of " Richard
Savage," we are introduced to the acquaintance of
Sir Richard -Steele,:whose -conversation is characteris-
tic enough. The scene of his quarrel with Savage is
among the best, because the most natural, incidents in
the story.. " Tommy Doddy is a passable account of
a Lord Mayor's Pageant in the year 1633. "Aunt
Sarah's Ghost" is one of those supernatural traditions
which we all affect to laugh-at, but all read with avi-
dity. The description of the phantom is very ghastly
and bewildering.. " Old Green, Offiey's Regular
Customer"—a sketch introduced by an admirable half-
length portrait of the hero, by Leech—represents to
the life one of those gross, animal voluptuaries who
may occasionally be met with in London taverns,
and who have about as much intelligence and sensibi-
lity as the turtle and venison on which they make such
desperate assaults. Old . Green, says his biographer,
lived but to eat and drink, and when his appetite
failed him, he committed suicide. Of the "Philosophy
of Physic" we have already spoken. " The Old Fa-
miliar Strain," though it cannot boast of much vigour
or originality, is yet agreeably versified, after the
Haynes Bayly fashion. We subjoin it acoordingly
Sing me that old familiar strain
Which touched my heart in boyhood's yo ars,
Before its chords were jarred by pain,
Before its hopes wet.e dimmed by tears.
Time has fled last since first I heard
Its mu:ic from those lips of thine ;
But well remembered is each word:
Se sing once more, oh, Mary mine,
The old familiar strain.
Thine eyes have their soft radiance kept,
That won my hearths life's your g ppria,
And o'er thy beauty Time bath swept
Gently, with light and charined wing.