that poem. In the character of Lara we discover Conrad, although its colourings fall somewhat short in point of execution. The same daring villany, the same contempt and independence of the world and its opinions, as well as the same ardent affection, although in Lara we behold the loss of its object, are clearly discernable in both. It will be remembered, that the reader was left in the dark as to the fate of Conrad; he disappeared as soon as he became acquainted with the death of his Medora, after his return to the "Pirates' Isle," from a captivity, from which he had been released by the courage of Gulnace, who, after in vain persuading Conrad, with her own hands slew her tyrant master the Pacha-What also became of Gulnare we do not know: but from a coincidence of circumstances, we are led to suggest that it is not improbable, she followed Conrad in disguise, and became his page Kaled after his arrival in his native country.

Lara in this poem is represented to have left his native land in his youth; but where he went, or what he did, is known only to himself, Kaled, and perhaps to Sir Ezzelin who recognizes him at a festival at " Otho's hall," but is prevented from making any disclosure by his sudden disappearance.

Lara's return to his native land is thus described:

"He comes at last in sudden loneliness,

"And whence they know not, why they need not guess;

"They more might marvel, when the greeting's o'er,
"Not that he came, but came not long before:

"No train is his beyond a single page,

"Of foreign aspect, and of tender age.

"Years had roll'd on, and fast they sped away
"No those that wonder as to those that stay;
"But lack of tidings from another clime
"Had lent a flagging wing to weary Time.

They see, they recognize, they almost deem

"The present dubious, or the past a dream.

"He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prime,

"Though seared by toil, and something touch'd by time;

"His faults, whate'er they were, if scarce forgot,

66

Might be redeem'd, nor ask a long remorse.

"And they indeed were chang'd-'tis quickly seen
"Whate'er he be, 'twas not what he had been;
"That brow in furrow'd lines had fix'd at last,
"And spake of passions, but of passiors past;
"The pride, but not the fire of early days,
"Coldness of mien, and carelessness of praise;
"A high demeanour, and a glance that took
"Their thoughts from others by a single look;
"And that sarcastick levity of tongue,

"The stinging of a heart the world hath stung,
"That darts in seeming playfulness around,
"And makes those feel that will not own the wound;
"All these seem his, and something more beneath
"Than glance could well reveal, or accent breathe.
"Ambition, glory, love, the common aim

"That some can conquer, and that all would claim,
"Within his breast appear'd no more to strive,
"Yet seem'd as lately they had been alive;
"And some deep feeling it were vain to trace
"At moments lighten'd o'er his livid face.

"Not much he lov'd long question of the past,
"Nor told of wond'rous wilds, and desarts vast

In those far lands where he had wandered lone,
“And as himself would have it seem-unknown:
"Yet these in vain his eye could scarcely scan
"Nor glean experience from his fellow man;
"But what he had beheld he shun'd to show,
"As hardly worth a stranger's care to know,

"If still more prying such inquiry grew,

"His brow fell darker, and his words more few?"

The following lines, we think highly poetical. The ideas are truly sentimental, and the phraseology rich and powerful.

"It was the night-and Lara's glassy stream

The stars are studding, each with imaged beam :

"So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray,
"And yet they glide like happiness away;
"Reflecting far and fairy-like from high
"The immortal lights that live along the sky:
"Its banks are fringed with many a goodly tree,
"And flowers the fairest that may feast the bee;

"Such in her chaplet infant Dian wove,

"And Innocence would offer to her love.

"These deck the shore; the waves their channel make
"In windings bright and mazy like the snake.

"All was so still, so soft in earth and air,

"You scarce would start to meet a spirit there.
"Secure that nought of evil could delight
"To walk in such a scene, on such a night!
"It was a moment only for the good:

"So Lara deemed, nor longer there he stood,

"But turned in silence to his castle gate;

"Such scenes his soul no more could contemplate:
"Such scenes reminded him of other days,

"Of skies more cloudless, moons of purer blaze,
"Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts that now-
"No-no-the storm may beat upon his brow,
"Unfelt-unsparing-but a night like this,

"A night of beauty mock'd such breast as his."

Upon Lara's return, he meets with welcome, but seldom mingles with the world, in fact he keeps himself so aloof from society, that he thereby attaches a suspicion to his character, which he does not condescend to remove.

He at length quarrels with Otho, which makes him his declared enemy. Otho accuses him of having murdered Sir Ezzelin and unites the neighbouring chieftains and his own followers against him. Lara, by his munificence to the poor, and other strokes of sound policy, makes himself very popular with the malcontents of the land. They make him their leader, and unite with him against their feudal lords. At first they are successful: but their success is eventually the cause of their complete overthrow and ruin. They neglect the precautionary measures of their leader, rush heedlessly on, till they are led into an ambuscade and defeated. Lara, however, with the few that remained with him, endeavours to escape to the fron

tiers and fights most heroically to effect his purpose, but is mortally wounded by an arrow. Kaled, who has never left him, endeavours to "beguile" his charger from the combat-and supports him till he dies. Soon after his death Kaled's sex is dis covered; she however survives her beloved but a short time.

"And Kaled-Lara-Ezzelin, are gone,

"Alike without their monumental stone!
"The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean

"From lingering where her chieftain's blood had been;
"Grief had so tam'd a spirit once too proud,
"Her tears were few, her wailing never loud;
"But furious would you tear her from the spot
"Where yet she scarce believ'd that she was not,
"Her eye shot forth with all the living fire
"That haunts the tigress in her whelpless ire;
"But left to waste her weary moments there,
"She talk'd all idly unto shapes of air,
"Such as the busy brain of Sorrow paints,
"And woos to listen to her fond complaints:
"And she would sit beneath the very tree
"Where lay his drooping head upon her knee;
"And in that posture where she saw him fall,
"His words, his looks, his dying gasp recall;
"And she had shorn, but sav'd her raven hair,
"And oft would snatch it from her bosom there,
"And fold, and press it gently to the ground,
"As if she staunch'd anew some phantom's wound.
"Herself would question, and for him reply;
"Then rising, start, and beckon him to fly
"From some imagin'd spectre in pursuit ;
"Then seat her down upon some linden's root,
"And hide her visage with her meagre hand,
"Or trace strange characters along the sand-
"This could not last-she lies by him she lov'd:

"Her tale untold-her truth too dearly prov'd."

We do not mean to review this poem, but we cannot refrain from making a few remarks. Notwithstanding the character of Lara is exceedingly well drawn, we cannot but observe the inconsistencies of which it is made. Whatever Lord Byron, or

any other poet may think, we never can believe that villany and virtuous love can inhabit the same bosom, at the same time. Either the one or the other will have the supreme and exclusive command. To endeavour to make them mingle harmoniously, would be as much impossible as to make an amicable treaty be tween good and evil. We do not now speak of virtue as a passion, but as a principle-as a principle from which, and only which, virtuous love can spring. We are willing to allow that a bad man can do a good deed; but we utterly deny, he can do a good deed from a virtuous principle; his motives "ex necessitate rei," must be selfish, to say the least. Shakspeare, it seems, was aware of this; hence we see in all his principal characters, one and one only predominant principle. In the splendid character of Othello, jealousy is the predominant passion. It completely triumphs over love, not however over virtuous love; had his love been purely virtuous, Desdemona would have lived; but springing as it did from ambition or the glory of possessing so much worth and beauty in a wife, it is made to yield to the suggestions of jealousy. It is Shakspeare's grand object in this play to represent that passion-hence in the catasprophe he makes it completely triumphant; he gives it not an equal, but the undivided command. The same may be said of Addison's Cato, where virtue has the supreme ascendancy. In fact, we find in all great dramatick and epick writers, a distinct medium, for distinct passions. We never find any two passions holding an equal command in the same personage. And we think such distinction perfectly just; we never wish to see virtue a co-equal or co-partner with vice. Where it is necessary that vice should be represented, whether triumphant or not, we wish to see a separate character appropriated for that purpose. It is upon these grounds we are not satisfied with the character of Conrad or La ra; they both degrade the pure and celestial flame of virtuous love. To make us believe that, that heavenly principle exists in the heart, as the author has endeavoured to do in these characters, while hell exhibits itself in the action, is an imposition as outrageous as it is foolish and wicked. We could wish therefore, that the author of this poem had taken some other character dif