Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 58, Number 358, August 1845

In Short

This volume gathers nine long-form pieces from the August 1845 issue of Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, presenting a rich tapestry of early Victorian thought and art. The selection moves from the philosophy of crime and punishment to original translations of Alexander Pushkin, a serialized political novel set in London and St. Petersburg, a satirical rant against London theater, and reviews of Jules Michelet and Spanish general Tomas de Zumalacarregui. Ending with a muscular defense of Dryden and Pope, the volume endures as a vivid snapshot of an era’s fierce debates over law, statecraft, literature, and domestic life.

The Story

The volume opens with an intellectual inquiry into penal reform. The essayist sets up a stark contrast between two approaches: the instinctive human desire for vindictive retribution and the modern, strictly prospective effort to protect society by reforming the offender. Examining theoretical systems and military analogies, the writer warns against romanticizing the criminal, insisting that punishment remains a necessary deterrent to common human frailties.

From abstract law, the issue transitions into poetic art with a tribute to Alexander Pushkin. It features English renderings of his verse, depicting the Russian poet’s brooding communion with the sea, his mourning over Napoleon and Byron, his defiant scoffs at tyranny, and his dramatic execution scene where a doomed bard mounts the scaffold with unbowed pride.

Fictional narrative takes center stage in the eighteenth installment of Marston; or, The Memoirs of a Statesman. The narrator visits his acquaintance Mordecai in a filthy, cobwebbed London office, where the wealthy moneylender revels in the power his dirty gold gives him over aristocratic supplicants. Leaving London, Marston travels with the refined Clotilde to St. Petersburg. As they depart along the Neva during a festival, Clotilde sheds a tear before the preserved wooden hut of Peter the Great, praising the Czar's vision in raising a monumental empire from barbarous origins.

Satire and cultural critique follow. "A Letter from London" pokes fun at the public's appetite for theatrical spectacles, lamenting how Shakespeare has been displaced by cheap stage tricks, glitter, and epicene actors in tights. Next, a commentary on Jules Michelet's Priests, Women, and Families argues that celibate priests are ill-equipped to guide households, offering a moving passage on a mother's lifelong influence over her son's mind and moral life.

The mood shifts to personal reflection in "My College Friends," as the narrator returns to Oxford after six years. Reconnecting with Horace Leicester, he contrasts their wild youth with the quiet destinies of their peers, before sharing a comedy of errors involving an elusive student, a confused porter, and empty rooms. Historical drama returns with a sketch of the Carlist commander Zumalacarregui, detailing his nighttime paranoia, his soldiers' devotion—marching barefoot through mud to save their hempen sandals—and his daring cavalry charges against Christino forces. Finally, the issue closes with a high-spirited defense of John Dryden and Alexander Pope, celebrating the satirist as a civic magistrate purging literature of dullness and vulgarity.

How It Unfolds

The debate on penal law The issue opens by examining whether punishment should seek the moral reformation of the criminal or serve as a public deterrent against crime.

Verse from the Northern poet Translations of Pushkin evoke the deep expanse of the sea, the fallen glory of Napoleon, and the final moments of a poet confronting execution.

Revisiting the London den Marston encounters the cynical moneylender Mordecai in his dusty office, where the wealthy broker takes pride in forcing proud aristocrats to beg for gold.

A parting view of St. Petersburg Marston and Clotilde travel along the Neva River during a holiday, admiring the grand architecture and pausing at the humble hut where Peter the Great planned his capital.

Complaints of a theatrical spectator A witty letter mocks the decline of London drama, where classic tragedies are abandoned for absurd fairy spectacles and cheap theatrical effects.

Reflecting on home and mother A critique of Michelet’s work argues that priests lack real insight into family life, highlighting a touching tribute to the lasting power of maternal love.

Old scenes at Oxford The narrator meets his former classmate Horace Leicester in the quadrangle, trading memories of past friends and laughing over a practical joke played on a college porter.

Tales of a Carlist commander The narrative follows General Zumalacarregui through the Spanish countryside, recording his intense vigilance, his troops' loyalty, and a dangerous roadside cavalry battle.

Defending the sharp edge of satire The final essay champions Alexander Pope’s Dunciad, portraying the great satirist as a rightful judge driving ignorance and dullness from the realm of letters.

The People

• The Penal Reformer / Theorist: A figure discussed in the opening essay who views punishment strictly as a curative treatment, seeking to reduce a criminal's moral fever before restoring him to society.
• Mordecai: A wealthy, cynical London broker in Marston. He prefers his filthy, cobwebbed office to a lavish town house because watching proud nobles plead for loans fuels his sense of power and revenge.
• Clotilde: Marston’s elegant travel companion. Introspective and observant, she looks on St. Petersburg with admiration and sheds a tear at Peter the Great's humble hut, deeply moved by the power of human vision.
• Horace Leicester: The narrator's old Oxford friend. Reconnecting after six years, he serves as a bridge to their past, sharing stories of former classmates who transformed into hard-working barristers or dedicated country parsons.
• Solomon: The stubborn Oxford porter who searches an unoccupied college room with his lantern, insisting no one lives there despite evidence of recent pranks.
• Zumalacarregui: The intense Carlist general. Constantly watchful for nighttime ambushes, he earns the devotion of his barefoot soldiers and leads daring charges against heavy odds.

In Its Own Voice

"It is a dungeon, and I only value it the more. To this dungeon, as you call it, come, day by day, some of the haughtiest names of the land."

Mordecai explains to Marston why he chooses to work in a filthy, uncleaned office.

"If I wanted a proof of the intellectual greatness of man, I should find it in this spot."

Clotilde reflects on human ambition while looking at the humble wooden house of Peter the Great along the Neva.

"Fairies you have by scores in flesh-coloured tights, spangles, and paucity of petticoats; gnomes of every description, from the gigantic glittering diamond beetle, to the grotesque and dusky tadpole."

The theatrical critic describes the chaotic array of characters filling the London stage.

What It's Really About

Beneath its variety of genres, this issue of Blackwood’s explores how societies build order, preserve memory, and define human excellence. The opening piece on penal reform and the biographical sketch of Zumalacarregui both confront the tension between raw human impulse and strict authority, asking whether discipline should be driven by cold necessity or moral restoration. In the literary essays and the narrative of Marston, the focus shifts to how art and leadership shape civilization. Clotilde's admiration for Peter the Great mirrors the final essay's defense of Pope: both celebrate the rare, authoritative intellect that imposes structure upon chaos, whether building a capital out of wild riverbanks or driving dullness from the realm of poetry.

Why Read It Today

This volume appeals to readers who enjoy nineteenth-century intellectual history, sharp literary criticism, and historical narrative. Reading a period journal offers an authentic experience of early Victorian culture, capturing the exact blend of politics, art, and philosophy that engaged the educated readers of 1845.

The prose style throughout is energetic, confident, and dense. Readers will find sharp satirical wit alongside serious moral debate. However, the volume demands patience. The text includes unedited French extracts in the essay on Michelet, dense allusions to classical literature and eighteenth-century poetry in the review of Pope, and detailed accounts of forgotten military maneuvers in Spain. The fictional installments also assume familiarity with ongoing plotlines and character relationships.

For those willing to navigate these period difficulties, the issue offers a vivid reading experience. Its lasting strength lies in its balance of sharp intelligence and deep feeling—moving easily from a funny college prank in Oxford to a thoughtful meditation on maternal love or a spirited defense of classic English satire.