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respectable actor, a favourite in the society of Dub- niscences); Woman and her Master (a philosophical lin, and author of some popular Irish songs. His history of woman down to the fall of the Roman daughter inherited his predilection for national empire); and various other shorter publications. In music and song. Very early in life she published 1841 Lady Morgan published, in conjunction with a small volume of poetical effusions, and afterwards her husband, Sir T. C. Morgan, M.D. (author of The Lay of the Irish Harp, and a selection of twelve Sketches of the Philosophy of Life and Morals, &c.), Irish melodies, with music. One of these is the two volumes, collected from the portfolios of the popular song of Kate Kearney, and we question writers, and stray sketches which had previously whether this lyric will not outlive all Lady Morgan's appeared in periodicals, entitling the collection The other lucubrations. While still in her teens, Miss Book Without a Name. In reviewing the literary Owenson became a novelist. She published succes- progress of Lady Morgan, one of her friendly admisively St Clair, The Novice of St Dominick, and rers (Mr Henry F. Chorley) has the following obserThe Wild Irish Girl. These works evinced a fer-vations: vid imagination, though little acquaintance with “The strong national enthusiasm of childhood, at either art or nature. The Wild Irish Girl' was once somewhat indiscriminate in its warmth and exceedingly popular, and went through seven editions limited in its scope, will be seen to have ended in in two years.
fearless and decided political partisanship, in the Miss Owenson continued her labours as a novel espousing of ultra-liberal doctrines, abroad as well ist. Patriotic Sketches, Ida, and The Missionary, as at home. But let us quote Lady Morgan's own were her next works. O'Donnel soon followed, and words from the preface to the last edition of was succeeded by Florence Macarthy, an Irish Tale O'Donnel. “After all, however,” says she, “if I (1818), and The O'Briens and the O'Flahertys (1827). became that reviled but now very fashionable perIn these works our authoress departed from the sonage, a female politician, it was much in the same beaten track of sentimental novels, and ventured, way as the Bourgeois Gentilhomme spoke prose withlike Miss Edgeworth, to portray national manners. out knowing it, a circumstance perhaps not unWe have the high authority of Sir Walter Scott for common with Irish writers. For myself at the opinion, that “O'Donnel,' though deficient as a least, born and dwelling in Ireland amidst my counstory, has some striking and beautiful passages of trymen and their sufferings, I saw and I described, situation and description, and in the comic part is felt and I pleaded: and if a political bias was very rich and entertaining.? Lady Morgan's sketches ultimately taken, it originated in the natural conof Irish manners are not always pleasing. Her dition of things, and not in . malice aforethought' of high-toned society is disfigured with grossness and the writer.” In each successive novel, too, the chaprofligacy, and her subordinate characters are often racters will be found more and more boldly concaricatured. The vivacity and variety of these trasted, the scenes prepared and arranged with finer delineations constitute one of their attractions : if artifice. If we cannot but note the strong family not always true, they are lively; for it was justly likeness which exists between all their plots, through said, that whether it is a review of volunteers in every one of which a brilliant and devoted woman the Phænix Park, or a party at the Castle, or a fits in masquerade, now to win a lover, now to save masquerade, a meeting of United Irishmen, a riot a friend, now to make a proselyte, we must also in Dublin, or a jug-day at Bog-Moy-in every insist upon the living nature of many of their drachange of scene and situation our authoress wields matis persone, especially the broadly comic ones, inthe pen of a ready writer.'. One complaint against stancing the Crawleys (“Florence Macarthy”), and these Irish sketches was their personality, the autho- Lieutenant O'Mealy (“The O'Briens”), and Lawress indicating that some of her portraits at the rence Fegan and Sir Ignatius Dogherty (" The Prinvice-regal court, and those moving in the best cess"), and upon the thousand indications scattered society of Dublin, were intended for well-known here and there with apparent artlessness, but real characters. Their conversation is often a sad jargon design, which prove that though their writer loves of prurient allusion, comments on dress, and quota- to float upon the surface of life and society, she can tions in French and Italian, with which almost at will dive into their depths, and bring up truths every page is patched and disfigured. The un- new and valuable.' fashionable characters and descriptions—even the rapparees, and the lowest of the old Irish natives,
MRS SHELLEY. are infinitely more entertaining than these offshoots of the aristocracy, as painted by Lady Morgan. In the summer of 1816, Lord Byron and Mr and Her strength evidently lies in describing the broad Mrs Shelley were residing on the banks of the Lake characteristics of her nation, their boundless mirth, of Geneva. They were in habits of daily intercourse, their old customs, their love of frolic, and their wild and when the weather did not allow of their boating grief at scenes of death and calamity. The other excursions on the lake, the Shelleys often passed works of our authoress are France and Italy, con- their evenings with Byron at his house at Diodati. taining dissertations on the state of society, man- · During a week of rain at this time,' says Mr Moore, ners, literature, government, &c. of those nations : having amused themselves with reading German these are written in a bold sketchy style, and with ghost-stories, they agreed at last to write something many gross faults, they are spirited, acute, and en- in imitation of them. “You and I," said Lord Byron tertaining. Lord Byron has borne testimony to the to Mrs Shelley, “will publish ours together.” He then fidelity and excellence of Italy;' and if the autho- began his tale of the Vampire; and having the whole ress had been 'less ambitious of being always fine arranged in his head, repeated to them a sketch of the and striking, and less solicitous to display her story one evening, but from the narrative being in reading and high company, she might have been prose, made but little progress in filling up his outone of the most agreeable of tourists and observers. line. The most memorable result, indeed, of their Besides these works, Lady Morgan has given to the story-telling compact, was Mrs Shelley's wild and world The Princess (a tale founded on the revolution powerful romance of Frankenstein-one of those oriin Belgium); Dramatic Scenes from Real Life (very ginal conceptions that take hold of the public mind poor in matter, and affected in style); The Life and at once and for ever.' Frankenstein' was published Times of Salvator Rosa, two volumes ; The Book of in 1917, and was instantly recognised as worthy of the Boudoir (autobiographical sketches and remi- I Godwin's daughter and Shelley's wife, and as, in fact,
possessing some of the genius and peculiarities of I started from my sleep with horror, a cold dew both. It is formed on the model of St Leon, but the covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every supernatural power of that romantic visionary pro- limb became convulsed when, by the dim and yellow duces nothing so striking or awful as the grand con- light of the moon, as it forced its way through the ception of Frankenstein'— the discovery that he window shutters, I beheld the wretch-the miserable can, by his study of natural philosophy, create a monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain living and sentient being. The hero, like Caleb of the bed, and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, Williams, tells his own story, and the curiosity it were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered excites is equally concentrated and intense. A some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his native of Geneva, Frankenstein, is sent to the uni- cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; versity of Ingolstadt to pursue his studies. He had one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, previously dabbled in the occult sciences, and the but I escaped, and rushed down stairs. I took refuge university afforded vastly extended facilities for pro | in the court-yard belonging to the house which I insecuting his abstruse researches. He pores over habited, where I remained during the rest of the books on physiology, makes chemical experiments, night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, visits even the receptacles of the dead and the dis- listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound secting-room of the anatomist, and after days and as if it were to announce the approach of the demonights of incredible labour and fatigue, he succeeds niacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life. in discovering the cause of generation and life ; nay
Oh! no mortal could support the horror of that more, he became capable of bestowing animation countenance. A mummy again endued with animaupon lifeless matter! Full of his extraordinary dis- tion could not be so hideous as that wretch. I had covery, he proceeds to create a man, and at length, gazed on him while unfinished; he was ugly then, after innumerable trials and revolting experiments but when those muscles and joints were rendered to seize and infuse the principle of life into his image capable of motion, it became a thing such as even of clay, he constructs and animates a gigantic figure, Dante could not have conceived. eight feet in height. His feelings on completing
I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my the creation of this monster are powerfully de- pulse beat so quickly and hardly that I felt the scribed :
palpitation of every artery; at others I nearly sank
to the ground through languor and extreme weakness. * It was on a dreary night of Norember that I be- Mingled with this horror I felt the bitterness of disheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an appointment; dreams that had been my food and anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected pleasant rest for so long a space, were now become a the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse hell to me, and the change was so rapid, the overa spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my throw so complete. feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain Morning, dismal and wet, at length dawned, and pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle discovered to my sleepless and aching eyes the church was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the of Ingolstadt, its white steeple and clock, which inhalf-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of dicated the sixth hour. The porter opened the gates the creature open ; it breathed hard, and a convulsive of the court which had that night been my asylum, inotion agitated its limbs.
and I issued into the streets, pacing them with quick How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, steps, as if I sought to avoid the wretch whom I feared or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite every turning of the street would present to my view. pains and care I had endeavoured to form? His I did not dare return to the apartment which I in. limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his habited, but felt impelled to hurry on, although features as beautiful. Beautiful! Great God! His wetted by the rain which poured from a black and yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and comfortless sky. arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and I continued walking in this manner for some time, flowing ; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these endeavouring, by bodily exercise, to ease the load luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with that weighed upon my mind. I traversed the streets his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same colour without any clear conception of where I was, or what as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his I was doing. My heart palpitated in the sickness of shrivelled complexion, and straight black lips. fear, and I hurried on with irregular steps, not daring
The different accidents of life are not so changeable to look about nieas the feelings of human nature. I had worked hard
Like one who on a lonely road for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing
Doth walk in fear and dread, life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived
And having once turned round, walks on, myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an
And turns no more his head ; ardour that far exceeded inoderation, but now that I
Because he knows a frightful fiend had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and
Doth close behind him tread. * breathless horror and disgust filled my heart. Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, inn at which the various diligences and carriages
Continuing thus, I came at length opposite to the I rushed out of the room, and continued a long time usually stopped. Here I paused, I knew not why, traversing my bed-chamber, unable to compose my but I remained some minutes with my eyes fixed on mind to sleep. At length lassitude succeeded to the a coach that was coming towards me from the other tumult I had before endured, and I threw myself on end of the street. As it drew nearer, I observed that the bed in my clothes, endeavouring to seek a few it was the Swiss diligence ; it stopped just where I moments of forgetfulness. But it was in vain ; I slept was standing, and on the door being opened, I per indeed, but I was disturbed by the wildest dreams.ceived Henry Clerval, who, on seeing me, instantly I thought I saw Elizabeth, in the bloom of health, sprung out. My dear Frankenstein," exclaimed he, walking in the streets of Ingolstadt. Delighted and “how glad I am to see you! how fortunate that you surprised, I embraced her; but as I imprinted the should be here at the very moment of my alighting! first kiss on her lips, they became livid with the hue of death ; her features appeared to change, and I his presence brought back to my thoughts my father,
Nothing could equal my delight on seeing Clerval; thought that I held the corpse of my dead mother in Elizabeth, and all those scenes of home so dear to my my arms; a shroud enveloped her form, and I saw the grave-worms crawling in the folds of the fannel.
* Coleridge's · Ancient Mariner.'
recollection. I grasped his hand, and in a moment I imagined that the monster seized me; I struggled forgot my horror and misfortune; I felt suddenly, furiously, and fell down in a fit. and for the first time during many months, calm and Poor Clerval! what must have been his feelings? serene joy. I welcomed my friend, therefore, in the A meeting which he anticipated with such joy so most cordial manner, and we walked towards my strangely turned to bitterness. But I was not the college. Clerval continued talking for some time witness of his grief ; for I was lifeless, and did not reabout our mutual friends, and his own good fortune cover my senses for a long, long time.' in being permitted to come to Ingolstadt. “ You may easily believe,” said he,“ how great was the difficulty creator, and haunts him like a spell. For two years
The monster ultimately becomes a terror to his to persuade my father that it was not absolutely ne- he disappears, but at the end of that time he is cessary for a merchant not to understand anything except book-keeping; and, indeed, I believe I left presented as the murderer of Frankenstein's infant him incredulous to the last, for his constant answer
brother, and as waging war with all mankind, in to my unwearied intreaties was the same as that of consequence of the disgust and violence with which the Dutch schoolmaster in the Vicar of Wakefield his appearance is regarded. The demon meets and “I have ten thousand florins a-year without Greek; I confronts his maker, demanding that he should eat heartily without Greek. But his affection for me
create him a helpmate, as a solace in his forced exat length overcame his dislike of learning, and he has patriation from society. Frankenstein retires and permitted me to undertake a voyage of discovery to begins the hideous task, and while engaged in it the land of knowledge.”
during the secrecy of midnight, in one of the lonely “ It gives me the greatest delight to see you ; but islands of the Orcades, the monster appears before
him. tell me how you left my father, brothers, and Elizabeth."
“A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed on “Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he allotted that they hear from you so seldom. By the by, I to me. Yes, he had followed in my travels ; he had mean to lecture you a little upon their account my- loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken self. But, my dear Frankenstein,” continued he, stop- refuge in wide and desert heaths ; and he now came ping short, and gazing full in my face, “I did not to mark my progress, and claim the fulfilment of before remark how very ill you appear; so thin and my promise. As I looked on him, his countenance pale ; you look as if you had been watching for seve- expressed the utmost extent of malice and treachery. ral nights.”
I thought with a sensation of madness on my pro“ You have guessed right; I have lately been so mise of creating another like to him, and, trembling deeply engaged in one occupation, that I have not with passion, tore to pieces the thing on which I allowed myself sufficient rest, as you see; but I hope, was engaged. The wretch saw me destroy the I sincerely hope, that all these employments are now creature on whose future existence he depended for at an end, and that I am at length free."
happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and I trembled excessively; I could not endure to think revenge, withdrew.' of, and far less to allude to, the occurrences of the pre
A series of horrid and malignant events now mark 1 ceding night. I walked with a quick pace, and we
soon arrived at my college. I then reflected, and the the career of the demon. He murders the friend of thought made me shiver, that the creature whom i Frankenstein, strangles his bride on her weddinghad left in my apartment might still be there, alive, He eludes detection, but Frankenstein, in agony and
night, and causes the death of his father from grief. and walking about. I dreaded to behold this monster; but I feared still more that Henry should see
despair, resolves to seek him out, and sacrifice him him. Intreating him, therefore, to remain a few mi- to his justice and revenge. The pursuit is pronutes at the bottom of the stairs, I darted up towards tracted for a considerable time, and in various coun. my own room. My hand was already on the lock of tries, and at length conducts us to the ice-bound the door before I recollected myself. I then paused, shores and islands of the northern ocean. Frankenand a cold shivering came over me. I threw the door stein recognises the demon, but ere he can reach forcibly open, as children are accustomed to do when him, the ice gives way, and he is afterwards with they expect a spectre to stand in waiting for them on
difficulty rescued from the floating wreck by the the other side; but nothing appeared. I stepped crew of a vessel that had been embayed in that polar fearfully in; the apartment was empty, and my bed- region. Thus saved from perishing, Frankenstein room was also freed from its hideous guest. I could relates to the captain of the ship his wild and wonhardly believe that so great a good fortune could have drous tale, but the suffering and exhaustion had befallen me; but when I became assured that my proved too much for his frame, and he expires beenemy had indeed fled, I clapped my hands for joy, fore the vessel had sailed for Britain. The monster and ran down to Clerval.
visits the ship, and after mourning over the dead We ascended into my room, and the servant pre- body of his victim, quits the vessel, resolved to seek sently brought breakfast; but I was unable to con- the most northern extremity of the globe, and there tain myself. It was not joy only that possessed me :
to put a period to his wretched and unhallowed I felt my flesh tingle with excess of sensitiveness, and existence. The power of genius in clothing incimy pulse beat rapidly. I was unable to remain for a dents the most improbable with strong interest and single instant in the same place; I jumped over the human sympathies is evinced in this remarkable chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud. Clerval story. The creation of the demon is admirably told. at first attributed my unusual spirits to joy on his The successive steps by which the solitary student arrival; but when he observed me more attentively, arrives at his great secret, after two years of labour, he saw a wildness in my eyes for which he could not and the first glimpse which he obtains of the hideaccount; and my loud unrestrained heartless laughter ous monster, form a narrative that cannot be perfrightened and astonished him.
used without sensations of awe and terror. While My dear Victor,” cried he, “what, for God's sake, the demon is thus partially known and revealed, or is the matter? Do not laugh in that manner.
How seen only in the distance, gliding among cliffs and ill you are! What is the cause of all this?"
glaciers, appearing by moonlight to demand justice Do not ask me,” cried I, putting my hands before from his maker, or seated in his car among the my eyes, for I thought I saw the dreaded spectre glide tremendous solitudes of the northern ocean, the into the room ;
"he can tell. Oh, save mel save me!" | effect is striking and magnificent. The interest
ceases when we are told of the self-education of the by natural causes. Circumstance has been styled monster, which is disgustingly minute in detail, and an unspiritual god,' and he seldom appears to less absurd in conception; and when we consider the advantage than in the plots of Mr Maturin. Beimprobability of his being able to commit so many tween 1807 and 1820 our anthor published a numcrimes in different countries, conspicuous as he is in ber of works of romantic fiction - The Milesian form, with impunity, and without detection. His Chief; The Wild Irish Boy; Women, or Pour et malignity of disposition, and particularly his resent- Contre; and Melmoth the Wanderer-all works in ment towards Frankenstein, do not appear unna- three or four volumes each. *Women' was well tural wlien we recollect how he has been repelled received by the public, but none of its predecessors, from society, and refused a companion by him who as the author himself states, ever reached a second could alone create such another. In his wildest edition. In ‘Women'he aimed at depicting real outbursts we partly sympathise with him, and his life and manners, and we have some pictures of situation seems to justify his crimes. In depicting Calvinistic Methodists, an Irish Meg Merrilees, and the internal workings of the mind and the various an Irish hero, De Courcy, whose character is made phases of the passions, Mrs Shelley evinces skill and up of contradictions and improbabilities. Two female acuteness. Like her father, she excels in mental characters, Eva Wentworth and Zaira, a brilliant analysis and in conceptions of the grand and the Italian (who afterwards turns out to be the mother powerful, but fails the management of her fable of Eva), are drawn with delicacy and fine effect. where probable incidents and familiar life are re- The former is educated in strict seclusion, and is quired or attempted.
purity itself. De Courcy is in love with both, and In 1823 Mrs Shelley published another work of both are blighted by his inconstancy. Eva dies fiction, Valperga ; or the Life and Adventures of Cas- calmly and tranquilly, elevated by religious hope. truccio, Prince of Lucca, three volumes. The time Zaira meditates suicide, but desists from the attempt, of the story is that of the struggle between the and lives on, as if spell-bound to the death-place of Guelphs and the Ghibbelines. She is also the au- her daughter and lover. De Courcy perishes of thor of a novel upon the story of Perkin Warbeck. reniorse. These scenes of deep passion and pathos
are coloured with the lights of poetry and genius. (Love.]
Indeed the gradual decay of Eva is the happiest of
all Mr Maturin's delineations, and has rarely been It is said that in love we idolize the object, and placing him apart, and selecting him from his fel- surpassed. The simple truthfulness of the descriplows, look on him as superior in nature to all others. tion may be seen in passages like the following:
• The weather was unusually fine, though it was We do so; but even as we idolize the object of our affections, do we idolize ourselves : if we separate bim Eva passed them almost entirely in the garden. She
September, and the evenings mild and beautiful from his fellow mortals, so do we separate ourselves, had always loved the fading light and delicious tints and glorying in belonging to him alone, feel lifted of an evening sky, and now they were endeared by above all other sensations, all other joys and griefs, to one hallowed circle from which all but his idea is that which endears even indifferent things-an inbanished : we walk as if a mist, or some more potent ternal consciousness that we have not long to behold charm, divided us from all but him ; a sanctified them. Mrs Wentworth remonstrated against this victim, which none but the priest set apart for that indulgence, and mentioned it to the physician; but
he office could touch and not pollute, enshrined in a
answered neglectingly;" said anything that
amused her mind could do her no harm, &c. Then cloud of glory, made glorious through beauties not our
Mrs Wentworth began to feel there was no hope; and Eva was suffered to muse life away unmolested. To the garden every evening she went, and brought
her library with her; it consisted of but three books The Rev. C. R. MATURIN, the poetical and eccen--the Bible, Young's Night Thoughts, and Blair's tric curate of St Peter's, Dublin, came forward in Grave. One evening the unusual beauty of the sky 1807 as an imitator of the terrific and gloomy style made her involuntarily drop her book. She gazed of novel writing, of which Monk Lewis was the upward, and felt as if a book was open in heaven, modern master. Its higher mysteries were known where all the lovely and varying phenomena preonly to Mrs Radcliffe. The date of that style, as sented in living characters to her view the name of Maturin afterwards confessed, was out when he was the Divinity. There was a solemn congeniality bea boy, and he had not powers to revive it. His tween her feelings of her own state and the view of youthful production was entitled Fatal Revenge, or the declining day-the parting light and the apthe Family of Montorio. The first part of this title proaching darkness. The glow of the western was the invention of the publisher, and it proved a heaven was still resplendent and glorious; a little good bookselling appellation, for the novel was in above, the blending hues of orange and azure were high favour in the circulating libraries. It is un- softening into a mellow and indefinite light; and in doubtedly a work of genius - full of imagination the upper region of the air, a delicious blue darkness and energetic language, though both are sometimes invited the eye to repose in luxurious dimness: one carried to extravagance or bombast. There was, star alone showed its trembling head-another and however, as has been justly remarked, originality another, like infant births of light; and in the dark in the conception, hideous as it was, of the hero east the half-moon, like a bark of pearl, came on employing against the brother who had deceived through the deep still ocean of heaven. Eva gazed him the agency of that brother's own sons, whom on ; some tears came to her eyes ; they were a luxury. li he persuades to parricide, by working on their Suddenly she felt as if she were quite well; a glow visionary fears, and by the doctrines of fatalism; | like that of health pervaded her whole frame one and then, when the deed is done, discovering that of those indescribable sensations that seem to assure the victims whom he had reasoned and persecuted us of safety, while, in fact, they are announcing disinto crime were his own children!' The author solution. She imagined herself suddenly restored to made abundant use of supernatural machinery, or health and to happiness. She saw De Courcy once at least what appears to be such, until the unra- more, as in their early hours of love, when his face velling of the plot discloses that the whole has been was to her as if it had been the face of an angel: effected, like the mysteries of the Castle of Udolpho, I thought after thought came back on her heart like
REV. C. R. MATURIN.
gleams of paradise. She trembled at the felicity eyelids, or the stilly rush of his pinions as they sweep that filled her whole soul; it was one of those fatal my brow.' illusions, that disease, when it is connected with Claudine prepared to obey as the lady sunk to rest strong emotions of the mind, often flatters its victim amid softened lights, subdued odours, and dying mewith-that mirage, when the heart is a desert, which lodies. A silver lamp, richly fretted, suspended from rises before the wanderer, to dazzle, to delude, and the raftered roof, gleamed faintly on the splendid bed. to destroy.'
The curtains were of silk, and the coverlet of velvet, • Melmoth,' another of Mr Maturin's works, is the faced with miniver ; gilded coronals and tufts of pluwildest of his romances. The hero‘gleams with demon mage shed alternate gleam and shadow over every light,' and owing to a compact with Satan, lives a angle of the canopy; and tapestry of silk and silver century and a-half, performing all manner of adven- covered every compartment of the walls, save where tures, the most defensible of which is frightening an the uncouthly-constructed doors and windows broke Irish miser to death. Some of the details in Mel- them into angles, irreconcilable alike to every rule moth’ are absolutely sickening and loathsome. They of symmetry or purpose of accommodation. Near the seem the last convulsive efforts and distortions of the ainple hearth, stored with blazing wood, were placed Monk Lewis school of romance. In 1824 (the year a sculptured desk, furnished with a missal and breof his premature death) Mr Maturin published The viary gorgeously illuminated, and a black marble Albigenses, a romance in four volumes. This work tripod supporting a vase of holy water: certain amuwas intended by the author as one of a series of ro- lets, too, lay on the hearth, placed there by the care mances illustrative of European feelings and manners of Dame Marguerite, some in the shape of relics, and in ancient, in middle, and in modern times. Laying others in less consecrated forms, on which the lady the scene of his story in France, in the thirteenth cen
was often observed by her attendants to look sometury, the author connected it with the wars between what disregardfully. The great door of the chamber the Catholics and the Albigenses, the latter being was closed by the departing damsels carefully; and the earliest of the reformers of the faith. Such a
the rich sheet of tapestry dropt over it, whose hushful time was well adapted for the purposes of romance;
sweeping on the floor seemed like the wish for a deep and Mr Maturin in this work presented some good repose breathed from a thing inanimate. The castle pictures of the crusaders, and of the Albigenses in
was still, the silver lamp twinkled silently and dimly ; their lonely worship among rocks and mountains. the perfumes, burning in small silver vases round the He had not, however, the power of delineating va- chamber, began to abate their gleams and odours; the rieties of character, and his attempts at humour are
scented waters, scattered on the rushes with which the wretched failures. In constructing a plot, he was
floor was strewn, flagged and failed in their delicious also deficient; and hence The Albigenses," wanting tribute to the sense ; the bright moon, pouring its
ories throug the uncurtained but richly tinted the genuine features of a historical romance, and destitute of the supernatural machinery which had casement, shed its borrowed hues of crimson, amber, imparted a certain degree of wild interest to the the artificial light that gleamed so feebly within the
and purple on curtain and canopy, as in defiance of author's former works, was universally pronounced
chamber. to be tedious and uninteresting. Passages, as we
Claudine tuned her lute, and murmured the rude have said, are carefully finished and well drawn, and
song of a troubadour, such as follows :we subjoin a brief specimen.
Song. (A Lady's Chamber in the Thirteenth Century.] Sleep, noble lady! They sleep well who sleep in
warded castles. If the Count de Monfort, the cham• I am weary,' said the lady; 'disarray me for rest. pion of the church, and the strongest lance in the But thou, Claudine, be near when I sleep; I love thee chivalry of France, were your foe as he is your friend, well, wench, though I have not shown it hitherto. Wear
one hundred of the arrows of his boldest archers at this carkanet for my sake; but wear it not, I charge their best flight would fail to reach a loophole of your thee, in the presence of Sir Paladour. Now read me
towers. my riddle once more, my maidens. As her head
Sleep, noble lady! They sleep well who are guarded sunk on the silken pillow-How may ladies sink most by the valiant. Five hundred belted knights feast in sweetly into their first slumber?'
your halls; they would not see your towers won, though 'I ever sleep best,' said Blanche, when some to defend them they took the place of your vassals, withered crone is seated by the hearth fire to tell me who are tenfold that number; and, lady, I wish they tales of wizardry or goblins, till they are mingled with
were more for your sake. Valiant knights, faithful my dreams, and I start up, tell my beads, and pray vassals, watch 'well your lady's slumbers ; see that her to go on, till I see that I am talking only to the they bé never broken but by the matin bell, or the dying embers or the fantastic forms shaped by their sighs of lovers whispered between its tolls. flashes on the dark tapestry or darker ceiling.'
Sleep, noble lady! Your castle is strong, and the * And I love,' said Germonda, “to be lulled to rest brave and the loyal are your guard. by tales of knights met in forests by fairy damsels, Then the noble lady whispered to me through her and conducted to enchanted halls, where they are as- silken curtain, “A foe hath found his way to me, sailed by foul fiends, and do battle with strong giants; though my towers are strong, and the valiant are my and are, in fine, rewarded with the hand of the fair guard, and the brave and the beautiful woo me in dame, for whom they have periled all that knight or song, and with many kissings of their hands.' And I Christian may hold precious for the safety of body asked, what foe is that? The lady dropt her silken and of soul.'
curtain, and slept ; but methought in her dreams she *Peace and good rest to you all, my dame and murmured—“That foe is Love! maidens,' said the lady in whispering tones from her silken couch. “None of you have read my riddle. She sleeps sweetest and deepest who sleeps to dream of her first love her first-her last-her only. A fair We have already touched on the more remarkable good night to all. Stay thou with me, Claudine, and and distinguishing features of the Waverley novels, touch thy lute, wench, to the strain of some old ditty and the influence which they exercised not only on -old and melancholy-such as may so softly usher this country, but over the whole continent of Europe. sleep that I feel not his downy fingers closing mine | That long array of immortal fictions can only be
SIR WALTER SCOTT.