Art not a madness and a mockery, I yet might be most happy.-I will clasp thee, And we again will be [The figure vanishes. My heart is crush'd! [MANFRED falls senseless.”—p. 15, 16. The first scene of this extraordinary performance ends with a long poetical incantation, sung by the invisible spirits over the senseless victim before them. The second shows him in the bright sunshine of morning, on the top of the Jungfrau mountain, meditating selfdestruction-and uttering forth in solitude as usual the voice of his habitual despair, and those intermingled feelings of love and admiration for the grand and beautiful objects with which he is environed, that unconsciously win him back to a certain kindly sympathy with human enjoyments. "Man. The spirits I have raised abandon me I lean no more on superhuman aid : It hath no power upon the past, and for The future, till the past be gulf'd in darkness, It is not of my search. My mother Earth! And thou fresh breaking Day, and you, ye Mountains, Art a delight -thou shin'st not on my heart. pause -Ay, ? [An eagle passes. I should be Thou winged and cloud-cleaving minister, With a pervading vision. - Beautiful! How glorious in its action and itself! But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, MANFRED. To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make The breath of degradation and of pride, And men are - - what they name not to themselves, 379 [The shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard. The natural music of the mountain reed For here the patriarchal days are not A pastoral fable-pipes in the liberal air, Mix'd with the sweet bells of the sauntering herd; My soul would drink those echoes! -Oh, that I were A living voice, a breathing harmony, A bodiless enjoyment — born and dying With the blest tone which made me!"-p. 20—22. At this period of his soliloquy, he is descried by a Chamois hunter, who overhears its continuance. "To be thus Grey-hair'd with anguish, like these blasted pines, A blighted trunk upon a cursed root, Which but supplies a feeling to decay— And to be thus, eternally but thus, Having been otherwise! Ye topling crags of ice! Ye avalanches, whom a breath draws down Crash with a frequent conflict; but ye pass, The mists boil up around the glaciers! clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphury, Heaped with the damn'd like pebbles.—I am giddy!"—p. 23, 24. Just as he is about to spring from the cliff, he is seized by the hunter, who forces him away from the dangerous place in the midst of the rising tempest. In the second act, we find him in the cottage of this peasant, and in a still wilder state of disorder. His host offers him wine; but, upon looking at the cup, he exclaims "Away, away! there's blood upon the brim! Will it then never never sink in the earth? 380 MANFRED – EVOCATION OF THE ALPINE SPIRIT. C. Hun. What dost thou mean? thy senses wander from thee. Colouring the clouds that shut me out from heaven, C. Hun. Man of strange words, and some half-maddening sin, &c. It doth; but actions are our epochs mine Have made my days and nights imperishable, Barren and cold, on which the wild waves break, Would be but a distempered dream. C. Hun. What is it That thou dost see, or think thou look'st upon? Man. Myself, and thee- a peasant of the Alps- And spirit patient, pious, proud and free; Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts; Of cheerful old age and a quiet grave, With cross and garland over its green turf, This do I see—and then I look within It matters not my soul was scorch'd already!”—p. 27—-29. The following scene is one of the most poetical and most sweetly written in the poem. There is a still and delicious witchery in the tranquillity and seclusion of the place, and the celestial beauty of the Being who reveals herself in the midst of these visible enchantments. In a deep valley among the mountains, Manfred appears alone before a lofty cataract, pealing in the quiet sunshine down the still and everlasting rocks; and says. "It is not noon the sunbow's rays still arch BEAUTIFUL APPARITION. The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, The homage of these waters.-I will call her. 381 [He takes some of the water into the palm of his hand, and Man. Beautiful Spirit! with thy hair of light, The charms of Earth's least-mortal daughters grow Of purer elements; while the hues of youth, The blush of earth embracing with her heaven, - The beauties of the sunbow which bends o'er thee! Of Earth, whom the abstruser Powers permit if that he I know thee, and the Powers which give thee power! And deeds of good and ill, extreme in both, Fatal and fated in thy sufferings. I have expected this-what wouldst thou with me? Man. To look upon thy beauty!—nothing further.”—p. 31, 32. There is something exquisitely beautiful, to our taste, in all this passage; and both the apparition and the dialogue are so managed, that the sense of their improbability is swallowed up in that of their beauty; — and, without actually believing that such spirits exist or communicate themselves, we feel for the moment as if we stood in their presence. What follows, though extremely powerful, and more laboured in the writing, has less charm for us. He tells his celestial auditor the brief story of his misfortune; and when he mentions 382 MANFRED- - MISPLACED SATIRE. the death of the only being he had ever loved, the beauteous Spirit breaks in with her superhuman pride. "And for this A being of the race thou dost despise, The order which thine own would rise above, The gifts of our great knowledge, and shrink'st back Man. Daughter of Air! I tell thee, since that hour But peopled with the Furies! I have gnash'd And fatal things pass'd harmless."-p. 36, 37. The third scene is the boldest in the exhibition of supernatural persons. The three Destinies and Nemesis meet, at midnight, on the top of the Alps, on their way to the hall of Arimanes, and sing strange ditties to the moon, of their mischiefs wrought among men. Nemesis being rather late, thus apologizes for keeping them waiting. "I was detain'd repairing shattered thrones, Marrying fools, restoring dynasties, Avenging men upon their enemies, And making them repent their own revenge; mount we our clouds!"-p. 44. This we think is out of place at least, if we must not say out of character; and though the author may tell us that human calamities are naturally subjects of derision to the Ministers of Vengeance, yet we cannot be persuaded that satirical and political allusions are at all compatible with the feelings and impressions which it was here his business to maintain. When the Fatal |