and is no more to be seen, when the darkness | management of its successive incidents. clears away. The whole party is chilled with these more essential particulars, Mr. Scott's terror at this extraordinary incident; and merits, we think, are unequivocal. He writes Deloraine protests that he distinctly saw the throughout with the spirit and the force of a figure of the ancient wizard Michael Scott in poet; and though he occasionally discovers a the middle of the lightning. The lady re-little too much, perhaps, of the "brave ne nounces for ever the unhallowed study of magic; and all the chieftains, struck with awe and consternation, vow to make a pilgrimage to Melrose, to implore rest and forgiveness for the spirit of the departed sorcerer. With the description of this ceremony the ninstrel closes his "Lay." lect," and is frequently inattentive to the delicate propriety and scrupulous correctness of his diction, he compensates for those defects by the fire and animation of his whole composition, and the brilliant colouring and prominent features of the figures with which he has enlivened it. We shall now proceed to lay before our readers some of the passages which have made the greatest impression on our own minds; subjoining, at the same time, such observations as they have most forcibly suggested. The From this little sketch of the story, our readers will easily perceive, that, however well calculated it may be for the introduction of picturesque imagery, or the display of extraordinary incident, it has but little pretension to the praise of a regular or coherent In the very first rank of poetical excellence, narrative. The magic of the lady, the mid- we are inclined to place the introductory and night visit to Melrose, and the mighty book concluding lines of every canto; in which the of the enchanter, which occupy nearly one- ancient strain is suspended, and the feelings third of the whole poem, and engross the and situation of the Minstrel himself de attention of the reader for a long time after scribed in the words of the author. the commencement of the narrative, are of elegance and the beauty of this setting, if we no use whatsoever in the subsequent develop- may so call it, though entirely of modern ment of the fable, and do not contribute, in workmanship, appears to us to be fully more any degree, either to the production or ex-worthy of admiration than the bolder relief planation of the incidents that follow. The of the antiques which it encloses; and leads whole character and proceedings of the goblin us to regret that the author should have wast page, in like manner, may be considered as ed, in imitation and antiquarian researches, merely episodical; for though he is employed so much of those powers which seem fully in some of the subordinate incidents, it is equal to the task of raising him an independent remarkable that no material part of the fable reputation. In confirmation of these remarks, requires the intervention of supernatural we give a considerable part of the introduc agency. The young Buccleuch might have tion to the whole poem :— wandered into the wood, although he had not been decoyed by a goblin; and the dame might have given her daughter to the deliverer of her son, although she had never listened to the prattlement of the river and mountain spirits. There is, besides all this, a great deal of gratuitous and digressive description, and the whole sixth canto may be said to be redundant. The story should naturally end with the union of the lovers; and the account of the feast, and the minstrelsy that solemnised their betrothment is a sort of epilogue, superadded after the catastrophe is complete. But though we feel it to be our duty to point out these obvious defects in the structure of the fable, we have no hesitation in conceding to the author, that the fable is but a secondary consideration in performances of this nature. A poem is intended to please by the images it suggests, and the feelings it inspires; and if it contain delightful images and affecting sentiments, our pleasure will not be materially impaired by some slight want of probability or coherence in the narrative by which they are connected. The call da junctura of its members is a grace, no doubt, which ought always to be aimed at ; but the quality of the members themselves is a consideration of far higher importance; and that by which alone the success and character of the work must be ultimately decided. The adjustment of a fable may indicate the industry or the judgment of the writer; but the Genius of the poet can only be shown in his "The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; Old times were chang'd, old manners gone! Had call'd his harmless art a crime. After describing his introduction to the presence of the Duchess, and his offer to entertain her with his music, the description proceeds: "The humble boon was soon obtain'd; The aged Minstrel audience gain'd. Which marks security to please; And scenes, long past, of joy and pain, p. 6.-8. No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willow'd shore ; Where'er thou wind'st, by dale or hill, All, all is peaceful, all is still, As if thy waves, since Time was born Since first they roll'd their way to Tweed, Had only heard the shepherd's reed, Nor started at the bugle-horn! "Unlike the tide of human time, Which, though it change in ceaseless flow. Retains each grief, retains each crime, It's earliest course was doom'd to know; And, darker as it downward bears, Is stain'd with past and present tears! Low as that tide has ebb'd with me, It still reflects to Mem'ry's eye The hour, my brave, my only boy, Fell by the side of great Dundee. Why, when the volleying musket play'd' Against the bloody Highland blade, Why was not I beside him laid!— Enough-he died the death of fame; Enough he died with conquering Græme." pp. 93, 94. There are several other detached passages "The harp's wild notes, though hush'd the song, of equal beauty, which might be quoted in The mimic march of death prolong; The close of the poem pp. 155, 156. is as follows: Hush'd is the harp-the Minstrel gone. pp. 193, 194. Besides these, which are altogether detached from the lyric effusions of the minstrel, some of the most interesting passages of the poem are those in which he drops the business of the story, to moralise, and apply to his own situation the images and reflections it has suggested. After concluding one canto with an account of the warlike array prepared for the reception of the English inraders, he opens the succeeding one with the following beautiful verses: Sweet Teviot! by thy silver tide, The glaring bale-fires blaze no more! proof of the effect which is produced by this dramatic interference of the narrator; but we hasten to lay before our readers some of the more characteristic parts of the performance. honour. The ancient romance owes much of its interest to the lively picture which it affords of the times of chivalry, and of those usages, manners, and institutions which we have been accustomed to associate in our minds, with a certain combination of magnificence with simplicity, and ferocity with romantic The representations contained in those performances, however, are for the most part too rude and naked to give complete satisfaction. The execution is always extremely unequal; and though the writer sometimes touches upon the appropriate feeling with great effect and felicity, still this appears to be done more by accident than design; and he wanders away immediately into all sorts of ludicrous or uninteresting details, without any apparent consciousness of incongruity. These defects Mr. Scott has corrected with admirable address and judg ment in the greater part of the work now before us; and while he has exhibited a very striking and impressive picture of the old feudal usages and institutions, he has shown still greater talent in engrafting upon those descriptions all the tender or magnanimous emotions to which the circumstances of the story naturally give rise. Without impairing the antique air of the whole piece, or violating the simplicity of the ballad style, he has contrived in this way, to impart a much greater dignity, and more powerful interest to his production, than could ever be attained by the unskilful and unsteady delineations of the old romancers. Nothing, we think, can afford a finer illustration of this remark, than the opening stanzas of the whole poem; they transport us at once into the days of knightly daring and feudal hostility; at the same time that they suggest, and in a very interesting way, all those softer sentiments which arise out of some parts of the description. The feast was over in Branksome tower; No living wight, save the Ladye aione, The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all; Or crowded round the ample fire. From Teviot-stone to Eskdale-moor." [spell pp. 9, 10. After a very picturesque representation of the military establishment of this old baronia! fortress, the minstrel proceeds, "Many a valiant knight is here; But he, the Chieftain of them all, "Can piety the discord heal, Or staunch the death-feud's enmity? In mutual pilgrimage, they drew ; For chiefs, their own red falchions slew. While Cessford owns the rule of Car, While Ettrick boasts the line of Scott, Shall never, never be forgot! Old Teviot's maids and matron's lent: Her son lisp'd from the nurse's knee- Far more fair Margaret lov'd and bless'd On the high turret, sitting lone, "Is yon the star o'er Penchryst. Pen, "The Seneschal, whose silver hair, In these passages, the poetry of Mr. Scott is entitled to a decided preference over that of the earlier minstrels; not only from the greater consistency and condensation of his imagery, but from an intrinsic superiority in the nature of his materials. From the improvement of taste, and the cultivation of the finer feelings of the heart, poetry acquires, in a refined age, many new and invaluable ele ments, which are necessarily unknown in a period of greater simplicity. The description of external objects, however, is at all times equally inviting, and equally easy; and many of the pictures which have been left by the ancient romancers must be admitted to possess, along with great diffuseness and homeliness of diction, an exactness and vivacity which cannot be easily exceeded. In this part of his undertaking, Mr. Scott therefore had fewer advantages; but we do not think that his success has been less remarkable. In the following description of Melrose, which introduces the second canto, the reader will observe how skilfully he calls in the aid of sentimental associations to heighten the effect of the picture which he presents to the eye: My father's death reveng'd shall be !' Then fast the mother's tears did seek To dew the infant's kindling cheek."-pp.12-15. There are not many passages in English poetry more impressive than some parts of this extract. As another illustration of the prodigious improvement which the style of the old romance is capable of receiving from a more liberal admixture of pathetic sentiments and gentle affections, we insert the following" passage; where the effect of the picture is finely assisted by the contrast of its two compartments. "So pass'd the day-the ev'ning fell, 'Twas near the time of curfew bell; If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave; ordinances of chivalry, and delineated with Then go!-but go alone the while- Was never scene so sad and fair!" pp. 35, 36. The whole scene of the duel, or judicial combat, is conducted according to the strict all the minuteness of an ancient romancer. The modern reader will probably find it rather tedious; all but the concluding stanzas, which are in a loftier measure. In the following passage he is less ambitious; and confines himself, as an ancient"'Tis done, 'tis done! that fatal blow minstrel would have done on the occasion, to a minute and picturesque representation of the visible object before him: "When for the lists they sought the plain, The stately Ladye's silken rein Did noble Howard hold; And much, in courteous phrase, they talk'd His Bilboa blade, by Marchmen felt, The same scrupulous adherence to the style of the old romance, though greatly improved in point of brevity and selection, is discernible in the following animated description of the feast, which terminates the poem : The spousal rites were ended soon; 'Twas now the merry hour of noon, And in the lofty-arched hall Was spread the gorgeous festival: The hooded hawks, high perch'd on beam, And all is mirth and revelry."-pp. 166, 167. The following picture is sufficiently antique in its conception, though the execution is evidently modern: "Ten of them were sheath'd in steel, They lay down to rest With corslet laced, Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard; Has stretch'd him on the bloody plain; He strives to rise-Brave Musgrave, no! Thence never shalt thou rise again! He chokes in blood-some friendly hand Undo the visor's barred band, Unfix the gorget's iron clasp, And give him room for life to gasp!— In vain, in vain-haste, holy friar, Haste, ere the sinner shall expire! Of all his guilt let him be shriven, And smooth his path from earth to heaven! "In haste the holy friar sped; Loose wav'd his silver beard and hair, Still props him from the bloody sod p. 145-147. We have already made so many extracts from this poem, that we can now only afford to present our readers with one specimen of the songs which Mr. Scott has introduced in the mouths of the minstrels in the concluding canto. It is his object, in those pieces, to exemplify the different styles of ballad narrative which prevailed in this island at different periods, or in different conditions of society. The first is constructed upon the rude and simple model of the old Border ditties, and produces its effect by the direct and concise narrative of a tragical occurrence. The se. cond, sung by Fitztraver, the bard of the accomplished Surrey, has more of the richness and polish of the Italian poetry, and is very beautifully written, in a stanza resembling that of Spenser. The third is intended to represent that wild style of composition which prevailed among the bards of the northern continent, somewhat softened and adorned by the minstrel's residence in the south. We prefer it, upon the whole, to either of the two former, and shall give it entire to our readers; who will probably be struck with the poetical effect of the dramatic form into which it is thrown, and of the indirect description by which every thing is most expressively told, without one word of distinct narrative. "O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. "-Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew! And, gentle Ladye, deign to stay! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy frith to-day. The black'ning wave is edg'd with white; To inch and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh. 'Last night the gifted seer did view A wet shroud roll'd round Ladye gay: 'Tis not because Lord Lind'say's heir ''Tis not because the ring they ride, A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; * It glar'd on Roslin's castled rock, It redden'd all the copse-wood glen; Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie; Both vaulted crypt and altar's pale Blaz'd every rose-carv'd buttress fair- But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! "And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell; But the Kelpy rung, and the Mermaid sung The dirge of lovely Rosabelle !"-pp. 181-184. From the various extracts we have now given, our readers will be enabled to form a tolerably correct judgment of this poem; and if they are pleased with these portions of it which have now been exhibited, we may venture to assure them that they will not be disappointed by the perusal of the whole. The whole night-journey of Deloraine-the opening of the wizard's tomb-the march of the English battle-and the parley before the walls of the castle, are all executed with the same spirit and poetical energy, which we think is conspicuous in the specimens we have already extracted; and a great variety of short passages occur in every part of the poem, which are still more striking and meritorious, though it is impossible to detach them, without injury, in the form of a quotation. It is but fair to apprise the reader, on the other hand, that he will meet with very heavy passages, and with a variety of details which are not likely to interest any one but a Borderer or an antiquary. We like very well *Isle. to hear "of the Gallant Chief of Otterburne," or "the Dark Knight of Liddisdale,” and fee. the elevating power of great names, when we read of the tribes that mustered to the war, "beneath the crest of old Dunbar, and Hepburn's mingled banners." But we really cannot so far sympathise with the local par tialities of the author, as to feel any glow of patriotism or ancient virtue in hearing of the Todrig or Johnston clans, or of Elliots, Armstrongs, and Tinlinns; still less can we relish the introduction of Black John of Athelstane, Whitslade the Hawk, Arthur-fire-the-braes, Rea Roland Forster, or any other of those wor thies who "Sought the beeves that made their broth, In Scotland and in England both," into a poem which has any pretensions to seriousness or dignity. The ancient metrical romance might have admitted those homely personalities; but the present age will not endure them: And Mr. Scott must either sacrifice his Border prejudices, or offend all his readers in the other parts of the empire. There are many passages, as we have already insinuated, which have the general character of heaviness, such is the minstrel's account of his preceptor, and Deloraine's lamentation over the dead body of Musgrave: But the goblin page is, in our opinion, the capital deformity of the poem. We have already said that the whole machinery is use less: but the magic studies of the lady, and the rifled tomb of Michael Scott, give occa sion to so much admirable poetry, that we can on no account consent to part with them. The page, on the other hand, is a perpetual burden to the poet, and to the reader: it is an undignified and improbable fiction, which excites neither terror, admiration, nor astonishment; but needlessly debases the strain of the whole work, and excites at once our incredulity and contempt. He is not a "tricksy spirit," like Ariel, with whom the imagination is irresistibly enamoured; nor a tiny monarch, like Oberon, disposing of the destinies of mortals: He rather appears to us to be an awkward sort of a mongrel between Puck and Caliban; of a servile and brutal nature; and limited in his powers to the indulgence of petty malignity, and the infliction of despicable injuries. Besides this objection to his character, his existence has no support from any general or established superstition. Fairies and devils, ghosts, angels, and witches, are creatures with whom we are all familiar, and who excite in all classes of mankind emotions with which we can easily be made to sympathise. But the story of Gilpin Hor ner can never have been believed out of the village where Le is said to have made his appearance; and has no claims upon the credulity of those who were not originally of his acquaintance. There is nothing at all interesting or elegant in the scenes of which he is the hero; and in reading those passages, we really could not help suspecting that they did not stand in the romance when the aged minstrel recited it to the royal Chares and his |