A GLANCE AT THE MAGAZINES.
h is a sure sign of leisure when we find ourselves sitting down before the month's batch of Magazines, to skim over the surface of their contents ; a thing we have not done for a good many months past. The pile of drab covers is not more like that of half a year ago than the complexion and character of the inside. Blackwood and Fraser are too thoroughly saturated with rampant Toryism; and for the rest, smart carieature sketches, with a stroll,' infusion of the horrible, and a tiny vein ot' poetry threading the mass of prose, with the customary filling-up of reviews, compose their substance.
Gee change has occurred, however, that we are glad to have an opportunity of noting : the Monthly Repository, famed in the lays of its original editor, Mr. Fox, fur its sense and liberal spirit, IS now transferred to other and congenial hands. LEIGH HUNT has now infused into it his pleasant fancy and kindly sentiment ; discussing the current topics, political as well as social and literary, with the freshness of one who returns to an old pursuit after a long secession. He regards party warfare from aloof, and in the dispassionate spirit of one wishing well to the right cause but not ill to those who support the wrong,—an amiable feeling, pleasing to lookers-on, and not unwelcome to those who are engaged in the fight. An article in the present number, on the "Dutchess of St. Alban's, and Marriages from the Stage," is in his best style of lively theatrical gossip : the green-room becomes a drawing- room, where kings, lords, and wits assemble to do honour to beauty, grace—and vittue ; for he makes a good case out for the actresses. To be sure, the character he gives of the Dutchess of ST. ALDAN'S is the brightest side of the truth : here is a pleasant picture of her.
"The Dutchess of St. Alban's had a more refined look in her younger days at least in her favourite characters, than was observable in her countenance lat- terly- There was never any genius in her acting, nor much sustainment of character in any respect : she seemed never to have taken to the boards with thorough facility ; but there was evidence of archness and agreeableness—a good deal that looked as if it could be very shrewd and pleasant off the stage. She had black hair, fine eyes, a good.humoured mouth, and an expression upon the whole of sensual intelligence, but not offensively such. This she retained in after life, together with the fine eyes and the look of good-humour ; but the unli- mited power of self-indulgence had not helped to refine it ; a deterioration which many a higher-born Dutchess has shared with her. We used often to see 1er fining flowers at the nursery-grounds, and riding out in her chaise and four.or her harouche, often with the Doke and others. Litterly, very shortly before her death, we repeatedly met her by herself, but always in the chaise and four, with postilions in the ducal livery. She seemed to say, but more innocently than the personage in the play, I am Dutchess of Malfy still.'"
The number contains also the first of a series of papers which we dare say LEIGH HUNT will make very acceptable both to book- buyers and booksellers : under the title of "Retrospective Re- view," he proposes to give readings and criticisms on old authors picked up at book-stalls. A short poem, with the startling title of" Reflections of a Dead Body," is full of deep and subtile thought, and fine consolation—a perfect balm to the wounds that time only can heal.
Boz still takes the lead and gives the tone to Bentley's Miscel- lany. Oliver Twist, since we last reported his progress, has got into the hands of a thief-trainer, and been had up to Hatton Garden before a notorious Magistrate, who under the name of Mr. Fang is "damned to everlasting fame :" the boy a proved innocent, and taken care of by the kind-hearted prosecutor : in the present number, however, he is kidnapped by his old companions. A Mr. Grimwig, a full-blown specimen of the hard, selfish sensualists is a capital sketch. We have not room for his portrait; but we must pick out a sly hit at "the Trade," for the consolation of less fortu- nate authors who may envy Boz his prosperity.
4, How should you like to grow up a clever man, and write books, oh?" " I think I would rather read them, Sir," replied Oliver.
" What ! wouldn't you like to be a book-writer ?" said the old gentleman. Oliver considered a little while, and at last said he should think it would he a much better thing to be a bookseller : upon which the old gentleman laughed heartily, and declared he had sail a very good thing ; which Oliver felt glad to have done, though he by no means knew what it was.
" Well, well," said the old gentleman, composing his features, "don't be afraid ; we won't make an author of you, while there's an honest trade to be learnt, or brickmaking to turn to." "Thank you, Sir," said Oliver.: and at the earnest manner of his reply the old gentleman laughed again, and said something about a curious instinct ; which Oliver, not uuderstanding, paid no very great attention to.
The politics of Tait are as sheer as ever, and free from the sickly fear of disagreeable truths which some Whig-loving Radi- cals so sillily manifest. Tail's review of LOCKHA.RT'S Life of SCOTT is not a mere critique on the book, but an extract of the spirit of the biography, with corrective comments, done in a free, generous, and sensible style, that secures sympathy and ac- qiiieseence. Blackwood has a severe, forcible, and just expose of the weakness of the present school of' painting, as displayed at the Academy exhibition. We commend it to those who may have thought the Spectator's judgments harsh. The Nqtional 31w2'azine, a new venture, in its second number, is chiefly remarkable for two clever lithograph designs by T. liii '57C1).\RI). To complete the lit, WO hate only to name the titd Non 4/el', ((lie New mid the Me(rvolitan seldom reach us,) the Architect/1ra/, the Court, (become critical,) and the always funny alai clever Pickwick.
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