Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volume 62, No. 383, September 1847

In Short

This volume of Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine serves as a quintessential artifact of Victorian intellectual life. It functions as a monthly compendium, balancing lighthearted, often biting political satire—such as the fictional account of a bungled parliamentary campaign—with dense historical essays, technical treatises on oil painting, and reviews of contemporary travelogues. By documenting the era’s obsessions, from the volatility of railway stocks to the complexities of religious reformation, the magazine captures the restless, encyclopedic curiosity that defined the mid-century British reading public.

The Story

The magazine opens with the personal narrative of a would-be politician, "How I Stood for the Dreepdaily Burghs." The narrator, a man of modest means and reckless financial habits, finds himself caught in the 1847 railway market panic. Seeking to escape his mounting debts, he attempts to bribe his way into a parliamentary seat through local political "cliques." The story unfolds as a farce of provincial corruption, where the candidate is led through dark alleys to meet shadowy power-brokers in smoky taverns, only to eventually lose the election just as his associate loses a marriage prospect. Their mutual defeat serves as a darkly comic commentary on the venality of the time.

Following this, the magazine shifts into a series of scholarly and reflective pieces. "The Crusade of the Children" explores a strange religious epidemic in a German village, using the event to probe the psychology of communal belief. Subsequent sections move into the realm of the aesthetic and the technical; an essay on "Taxidermy in Rome" reflects on the moral and intellectual benefits of natural history, while "Materials for a History of Oil Painting" provides a meticulous, almost forensic examination of ancient varnish recipes and the chemical evolution of color.

The scope then widens to global and historical perspectives. A review of Dr. Coulter’s travels on the Pacific coast provides a visceral account of whale hunting and skirmishes with cannibal tribes, juxtaposed against the more refined, sedentary reflections of a student reading Cicero by lamplight. The latter portion of the magazine turns to heavy historical analysis, particularly regarding the reign of Henry IV of France. It frames his rise to power not merely as a royal succession, but as a tumultuous epoch defined by the friction between Protestant and Catholic factions. The narrative argues that the king’s ability to unify France was a testament to his sheer force of character, even as it acknowledges the bloody cost of such unification. The volume concludes by synthesizing these disparate threads—the political, the artistic, and the historical—into a cohesive, if complex, portrait of a civilization grappling with its own past and its uncertain, industrial future.

How It Unfolds

The financial crisis The narrative begins with a panicked conversation between two acquaintances, establishing the dire state of the 1847 stock market and the narrator’s desperate need for a political appointment to solve his personal bankruptcy.

The political farce The protagonist secures a meeting with Provost Binkie, believing he has the support of a powerful local clique, only to find himself embroiled in a clandestine, alcohol-fueled conspiracy in the backrooms of Dreepdaily.

The shift to scholarship The tone pivots from fiction to non-fiction, exploring the social dynamics of religious movements in Germany and the meditative, solitary life of the student compared to the activist.

The technical investigation Detailed analysis of art history follows, where the magazine dissects the chemical composition of old paintings and the failures of modern artists who prioritize speed over the traditional, durable techniques of the masters.

The global adventure The perspective shifts to the Pacific frontier, detailing the rugged, often violent encounters between Western explorers and indigenous populations, showcasing the raw, unrefined nature of 1840s travel reporting.

The historical synthesis The volume concludes with a rigorous examination of Henry IV of France, analyzing the religious wars and the political necessity of the monarchy in forging a unified, powerful nation-state.

The People

The narrator of the opening story is a man of limited integrity and high ambition, driven by the fear of his creditors. He is matched by the cynical Robert M’Corkindale, a pragmatist who views both marriage and politics as mere financial transactions. Their foil is the corrupt Provost Binkie, who promises political victory with the ease of a man who owns his constituents. These figures are contrasted with the "youthful stoics" of the medical profession, who sacrifice decades of their lives to study, and the figure of Henry IV, whose political genius and necessity for absolute authority define the magazine’s historical inquiry. Throughout the text, the "Whitepaint" savages and the various political "cliques" serve as obstacles or catalysts, representing the unpredictable forces of the wider world that threaten the stability of the educated, Victorian subject.

In Its Own Voice

"When a man has made money easily, he is somewhat prone to launch into expense, and to presume too largely upon his credit."

The narrator reflects on his own financial folly during the railway market crash.

"The little old church, surrounded by a few spreading trees, stood at the end of the village on some higher ground, raising its gilded steeple into the blue air, so that it always seemed to be touched by an evening sun."

This passage evokes the idyllic, pastoral setting of a village before it is gripped by a mysterious religious fervor.

"Reflection has her emotions thrilling as those of passion."

The author describes the intense, internal life of a student who turns away from the world to contemplate the enigmas of existence.

What It's Really About

This volume explores the tension between personal ambition and the larger, impersonal forces of history and economics. It questions the stability of individual agency in an age where markets collapse, political machines operate in the shadows, and religious epidemics can sweep through an entire population. The magazine argues that human progress is rarely a linear advancement; rather, it is a messy, often violent negotiation between the past—with its chivalry, superstition, and traditional arts—and a cold, industrial present. It is preoccupied with the idea that the "great men" of history, like Henry IV, are not merely architects of their own destiny, but manifestations of the frenzied, collective will of their nations.

Why Read It Today

Readers today will encounter a window into the Victorian mindset—a perspective that is simultaneously deeply moralistic and remarkably cynical. Those who appreciate the dry, layered wit of period satires will enjoy the opening account of political maneuvering, which feels surprisingly modern in its portrayal of bureaucratic absurdity. The technical essays on oil painting and the harrowing accounts of maritime exploration offer a fascinating look at the breadth of interests the nineteenth-century intellectual felt compelled to master.

However, the reader must be prepared for the magazine’s inherent challenges. The writing style is dense, favoring long, complex sentences and a formal, academic vocabulary that demands sustained attention. Additionally, the text reflects the colonial attitudes and period prejudices of 1847, particularly in its descriptions of foreign cultures and religious conflicts. One should approach these pages as one would a museum display: with an appreciation for the artifacts of a bygone world, acknowledging that while the society it documents is distant, the human anxieties—the fear of ruin, the hunger for status, and the struggle to understand one’s place in a shifting global order—remain strikingly familiar. It is a rewarding read for those who enjoy the feeling of being an explorer in the vast, varied library of human thought.