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the wrench as severe as that needed Roland had been friends in youth, and

cannot have forgotten Coleridge's ex“ To drag the magnet from the pole, To chain the freedom of the soul,

quisite description of their quarrel and To freeze in ice desires that boil,

estrangement. He would have paint. To root the mandrake from the soil,” &c. ed their reconciliation in a few lines of

light. But attend to Tupper-and But Amador, after ten years' absence remember the parties are, each of -so Christabel was no girl-now re

them, bordering, by his account, on turned “ with name and fame and for fourscore. tune-for

Like aspens tall beside the brook, • The Lion-King, with his own right hand, The stalwarth warriors stood and shook, Had dubbed him Knight of Holy Land,

And each advancing feared to look
The crescent waned where'er he came,

Into the other's eye;
And Christendom rung with his fame, 'Tis fifty years ago to-day
And Saladin trembled at the name

Since in disdain and passion they
Of Amador de Ramothaim!”

Had flung each other's love away Having leapt the moat, and flung him

With words of insult high ; self from his horse,

How had they lung'd and pray'd to meet ! “ In the hall

But memories cling; and pride is sweet; He met her !—but how pale and wan !

And—whicb could be the first to greet
He started back, as she upon

The haply scornful other ?
His neck would fall;

What if De Vaux were haughty still,-

Or Leoline's unbridled will Ile started back, -for by her side

Consented not his rankling ill
(O blessed vision !) be espied
A thing divine,

In charity to smother ?
Poor Christabel was lean and white,
But oh, how soft, and fair, and bright,

“ Their knees give way, their faces are pale, Was Geraldine!

And loudly beneath the corslets of mail, Fairer and brighter, as he gazes

Their aged hearts in generous heat
All celestial beauty blazes

Almost to bursting boil and beat;
From those glorious eyes,

The white lips quiver, the pulses throb, And Amador no more can brook

They stifle and swallow the rising sob, The jealous air and peevish look

And there they stand, faint and unmann'd, That in the other lies !".

As each holds forth his bare right hand ! This is rather sudden, and takes the Yes, the mail-clad warriors tremble,

All unable to dissemble reader aback—for though poor Chris- Penitence and love confest, tabel had had a strange night of it, she

As within each aching breast was a lovely creature the day before, The flood of affection grows deeper and and could not have grown so very stronger lean and white" in so short a time. Till they can refrain no longer, Only think of her looking "peevish! But with,—' Oh, my longt-lost brother !' But

To their hearts they clasp each other, “ A trampling of hoofs at the cullice-port,

Vowing in the face of heaven
A hundred horse in the castle court!

All forgotten and forgiven !
From border wastes a weary way,
Through Halegarth wood and Knorren

“ Then, the full luxury of grief

That brings the smothered soul relief, moor, A mingled numerous array,

Within them both so fiercely rushed On panting palfreys black and grey,

That from their vanquish'd eyes out-gushed With foam and mud bespattered o'er,

A tide of tears, as pure and deep Ilastily cross the flooded Irt,

As children, yea as cherubs weep!" And rich Waswater's beauty skirt,

Sir Roland tells Sir Leoline, that And Sparkling-Tairn, and rough Seath- his daughter Geraldine could not help waite,

being amused with Bard Bracy's tale And now that day is dropping late,

that she was in Langdale, seeing Have passed the drawbridge and the gate.” that she was sitting at home in her Here again Mr Tupper shows, some- own latticed bower; but the false one what ludicrously, his unacquaintance imposes on the old gentleman with a with the Lake-Land, and makes Sir pleasant story, and, manifest impostor Roland perform a most circuitous and liar though she be, they take her journey.

- do not start from your chair---for You know that Sir Leoline and Sir the Virgin Mary!

“ Her beauty hath conquer'd : a sunny smile “ The spirit said, and all in light Laughs into goodness her seeming guile.

Melted away that vision bright; Aye, was she not in mercy sent

My tale is told.” To heal the friendships pride had rent ?

Such is Geraldine, a Sequel to ColeIs she not here a blessed saint

ridge's Christabel! It is, indeed, a To work all good by subtle feint ?

most shocking likeness-call it raYea, art thou not, mysterious dame,

ther a horrid caricature. Coleridge's Our Lady of Furness ?- the same,

the same!

Christabel, in any circumstances beO holy one, we know thee now,

neath the sun, moon, and stars, “ lean O gracious one, before thee bow,

and white, and peevish"!!-a most Help us, Mary, hallowed one, Bless us, for thy wondrous Son”

impious libel. Coleridge's Geraldine At that word, the spell is half-bro- with that dreadful bosom and side

“ like a lady from a far countree"ken, and the dotards, who had been stain still the most beautiful of all the kneeling, rise up; the Witch gives a slight hiss, but instantly recovers her edness powerful by the inscrutable

witches-and in her mysterious wickgentleness and her beauty, and both fall in love with her, like the elders best of human innocence—the dragon

secret of some demon-spell over the with Susanna.

daughter of an old red-raged hag, “ Wonder-stricken were they then, hobbling on wooden crutches! Where And full of love, those ancient men,

is our own? Coleridge's bold EngFull-fired with guilty love, as when lish Barons, stiff in their green eld as In times of old

oaks, Sir Leoline and Sir Roland, To young Susanna's fairness knelt

with rheumy eyes, slavering lips, and Those elders twain, and foully felt

tottering knees, shamelessly wooing The lava-streams of passion melt

the same witch in each others presence, Their bosoms cold."

with all the impotence of the last stage They walk off as jealous as March of dotage! hares, and Amador, a more fitting wooer, supplies their place.

“ She had dreams all yesternight His head is cushioned on her breast,

Of her own betrothed knight ;

And she in the midnight wood will pray Her dark eyes shed love on his, And his changing cheek is prest

For the weal of her lover that's far away!" By her hot and thrilling kiss,

That is all we hear of him from ColeWhile again from her moist lips

ridge-Mr Tupper brings before us The honeydew of joy he sips,

the handsome youth" (yes! he calls And views, with rising transport warm, him so), with Her half-unveil'd bewitching form." At this critical juncture Christabel Three wild-boars or, on an azure field,

a goodly shield, comes gliding ghost-like up to him

While scallop-shells on an argent fess and Amador, most unaccountably Proclaim him a pilgrim and knight no stung

less !! Stung with remorse,

Enchased in gold on his helmet of steel Hath drop't at her feet as a clay-cold corse;":

A deer-hound stands on the high-plumed

keel !" &c. she raises him up and kisses him-Geraldine, with “an involuntary hiss and And thus equipped-booted and spursnake-like stare,” gnashes her teeth red-armed cap-a-pie-he leaps the on the loving pair. Bard Bracy plays moat-contrary to all the courtesies on his triple-stringed Welsh harp'a of chivalry—and, rushing up to the holy hymn-Geraldine is convulsed, lady, who had been praying for him grows lank and lean

for ten years (ten is too many), he “ The spell is dead--the charm is o'er,

turns on his heel as if he had stumbled

by mistake on an elderly vinegar-viWrithing and circling on the floor, While she curl'd in pain, and then was

saged chambermaid, and makes fu

rious love before her face to the lady seen no more."

on whose arm she is fainting ;-and this Next day at noon Amador and is in the spirit of_Coleridge! It won't Christabel are wed—the spirit of the do to say Amador is under a spell. No bride's mother descending from heaven such spell can be tolerated-and so far to bless the nuptials-the bridegroom from being moved with pity for Amais declared by her to be Sir Rowland's dor as infatuated, we feel assured,

that there is not one Quaker in Ken.

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dal, who, on witnessing such brutality, shifting for itself, like certain animalwould not lend a foot to kick him down cula set a-racing on a hot-plate by a stairs, and a hand to fling him into flaxen- headed cowboy; and though the moat among the barbels.

there are some hundreds of them, not As for the diction, it is equally des- one is the property of Mr Tupper, but titute of grace and power-and not liable to be claimed by every versifier only without any colouring of beauty, from Cockaigne to Cape Wrath. but all blotch and varnish, laid on Let us turn, then, to his ambitious as with a shoe-brush. All sorts of and elaborate address to Imagination, images and figures of speech crawl and see if it conspicuously exhibit the over the surface of the Sequel, each qualities of the poetical character.

“ Thou fair enchantress of my willing heart,
Who charmest it to deep and dreamy slumber,
Gilding mine evening clouds of reverie,-
Thou lovely Siren, who, with still small voice
Most softly musical, dost lure me on
O'er the wide sea of indistinct idea,
Or quaking sands of untried theory,
Or ridgy shoals of fixt experiment
That wind a dubious pathway through the deep,
Imagination, I am thine own child:
Have I not often sat with thee retired,
Alone yet not alone, though grave most glad,
All silent outwardly, but loud within,
As from the distant hum of many waters,
Weaving the tissue of some delicate thought,
And hushing every breath that might have rent
Our web of gossamer, so finely spun?
Have I not often listed thy sweet song,
( While in vague echoes and Æolian notes
The chambers of my heart have answered it),
With eye as bright in joy, and fluttering pulse,
As the coy village maiden's, when her lover
Whispers his hope to her delighted ear?"

Imagination is here hailed first as a “ With still small voice" is too hal. “ fair enchantress," then as a “ lovely lowed an expression to be properly siren," and then as the poet's mother applied to a “ lovely siren;" ‘nor is it _“I am thine own child.” In the the part of a siren to lure poets on next paragraph—not quoted-she is “O'er the wide sea of indistinct idea, called “ angelic visitant;" again he or quaking sands of untried theory, says, “me thy son;" immediately af- Or ridgy shoals of fixt experiment, ter, “indulgent lover, I am all thine That wind a dubious pathway through the own;" and then

deep." “ Imagination, art thou not my friend,

We do not believe that these lines have In crowds and solitude, my comrade dear, any real meaning; and then they were Brother and sister, mine own other self, manifestly suggested by two mighty The Hector to my soul's Andromache ? ' ones of WordsworthThese last lines are prodigious non- “ The intellectual power through words sense; and we could not have believed and things it possible so to burlesque the most Went sounding on its dim and perilous touching passage in all Homer. Nor

way.” can we help thinking the image of Imagination is then Triumphant Martin Farquhar Tupper, Esq., M.A., Beauty, bright Intelligence," and author of “ Proverbial Philosophy"

“ The chastened fire of extacy suppressed With eye as bright in joy, and fluttering Beams from her eye,” pulse,

which is all true; but why thus beams As the coy village maiden's

her eye? rather ridiculous-with Imagination “ Because thy secret heart, sitting by his side, and whispering soft Like that strange light, burning yet uncona nothings into his ear.


“ Many

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to a chamois, deals with a chamois. “ He thought what fear it were to fall hunter. He describes one scaling Into the pit that swallows all, “ Catton's battlement" before the peep Unwing'd with hope and love ;

And when the succour came at last, of day, and now at its summit.

O then he learnt how firm and fast “ Over the top, as he knew well,

Was his best Friend above."
Beyond the glacier in the dell
A herd of chamois slept ;.

That is much better than any thing So down the other dreary side,

yet quoted, and cannot be read withWith cautious step, or careless slide

out a certain painful interest. But He bounded, or he crept."

the composition is very poor.

" O heaven! “ And now he scans the chasmed ice ; He stoops to leap, and in a trice

He hath leapt in!” His foot hath slipp'd, - heaven ! Well- what then? « and down he He hath leapt in, and down he falls falls !" Indeed! We do not object to Between those blue tremendous walls, “ between those blue tremendous Standing asunder riven.

walls,” but why tell us they were

s standing asunder riven?" We knew “ But quick his clutching nervous grasp he had been on the edge of the Contrives a jutting crag to clasp,

- chasmed ice." “ O moment of es. And thus he hangs in air ;

ulting bliss !” No-no-no. O moment of exulting bliss !

a rood"-perpendicular altitude is Yet hope so nearly hopeless is

never measured by roods nor yet by Twin brother to despair.

perches. Satan “lay floating many a

rood”—but no mention of roods wben “ He look'd beneath,-a horrible doom!

- his stature reached the sky.' Some thousand yards of deepening gloom,

head grows dizzy"-aye that it did Where he must drop to die ! He look'd above, and many a rood

long before the fifteen hours had expired.

“ But stop, 0 stop” is, we Upright the frozen ramparts stood Around a speck of sky.

fear, laughable—yet we do not laugh

—for 'tis no laughing matter—and “ Fifteen long dreadful hours he hung,

never in life give up your hope" is And often by strong breezes swung

at so very particular a juncture too His fainting body twists,

general an injunction.

" Be cool, Scarce can he cling one moment more,

man, hold on fast" is a leetle too much, His half-dead hands are ice, and sore addressed to poor Pierre, whose“ half His burning bursting wrists.

dead hands were ice," and who had

been hanging on by them for fifteen “ His head grows dizzy,-he must drop,

hours. He half resolves,—but stop, O stop, “ And so from out that terrible place, Hold on to the last spasm,

With death's pale paint upon his face,
Never in life give up your hope,

They drew him up at last" -
Behold, behold a friendly rope
Is dropping down the chasm!

is either very good or very bad-and

we refer it to Wordsworth. The conThey call thee, Pierre,--see, see them

cluding stanzas are tame in the exhere,

Thy gathered neighbours far and near, “ For many harrowing terrors ran
Be cool, man, hold on fast ;

Through his poor heart that day!”
And so from out that terrible place,
With death's pale paint upon his face

We can casily believe it; but never They drew him up at last.

after such a rescue was there so feeble

an expression from poet's heart of re“ And he came home an altered man,

ligious gratitude in the soul of a sinFor many harrowing terrors ran

ner saved. Through his poor heart that day;

The “ African Desert" and " The He thought how all through life, though

Suttees" look like Oxford Unprized young,

Poems. The Caravan, after suffering Upon a thread, a hair, he hung,

the deceit of the mirage, a-dust are Over a gulf midway :

aware of a well.

“ Hope smiles again, as with instinctive haste The panting camels rush along the waste,

And snuff the grateful breeze, that sweeping by
Wafts its cool fragrance through the cloudless sky.
Swist as the steed that feels the slacken'd rein
And Aies impetuous o'er the sounding plain,
Eager as, bursting from an Alpine source,
The winter torrent in its headlong course,
Still hasting on, the wearied band behold
-The green oase, an emerald couch'd in gold!
And now the curving rivulet they descry,
That bow of hope upon a stormy sky,
Now ranging its luxuriant banks of green
In silent rapture gaze upon the scene :
His graceful arms the palm was waving there
Caught in the tall acacia's tangled hair,
While in festoons across his branches slung
The gay kossom its scarlet tassels hung ;
The flowering colocynth had studded round
Jewels of promise o'er the joyful ground,
And where the smile of day burst on the stream,
The trembling waters glitter'd in the beam."

There is no thirst here-our palate could much mend it; but some of the grows not dry as we read. What most agreeable men we know labour passion is there in saying that the under it, and we suspect owe to it no camels rushed along the waste, inconsiderable part of their power in “Swift as the steed that feels the slack- conversation. People listen to their ened rein,'

impeded prosing more courteously, And flies impetuous o'er the sounding and more attentively, than to the prate plain ?"

of those whose sweet course is not 66 Not a bit.” And still worse is

hindered ;” and thus encouraged, they

grow more and more loquacious in their “ Eager as bursting from an Alpine source

vivacity, till they fairly take the lead The winter torrent in its headlong course;"

in argument or anecdote, and are the for there should have been no allusion delight and instruction of the evening, to water any where else but there ; as it may hap, in literature, philoso. the groan and the cry was for water to phy, or politics. Then, a scandalous drink ; and had Mr Tupper felt for the story, stuttered or stammered, is irrecaravan, men and beasts, no other sistible—every point tells—and blunt water would he have seen in his ima. indeed, as the head of a pin, must be gination-it would have been impos. that repartee that extricates not itself sible for him to have thought of liken- with a jerk from the tongue-tied, sharp ing the cavalcade to Alpine sources as the point of a needle. and winter torrents-he would have We beg to assure Mr Tupper, that huddled it all headlong, prone, or on his sympathy with the “ Stammerer,” its hands, hoofs, and knees, into the would extort from the lips of the water of salvation. “ The green oase, most swave of that fortunate class, an emerald couched in goldi?" Water! who, it must be allowed, are occasions Water! Water! and there it is! ally rather irritable, characteristic ex. " That bow of hope upon a stormy sky!!!" pressions of contempt; and that so far

from thinking their peculiarity any They are on its banks-and

impediment, except merely in speech, " In silent rapture gaze upon the scene !!!” they pride themselves, as well as they

may, from experience, on the advantage And then he absolutely paints it! it gives them in a colloquy, over the not in water coloursbut in chalks. glib. If to carry its point at last be Graceful arms of palms-tangled hair the end of eloquence, they are not only of acacia-scarlet tassels of kossoms in the most eloquent, but the only elofestoons—and the jewels of promise of quent of men. No stammerer was ever the flowering colocynth!!!

beaten in argument - his opponents Stammering or stuttering, certainly always are glad to give in and often, is an unpleasant defect-or weakness after they have given in, and suppose in the power of articulation or speech, their submission has been accepted, and we don't believe that Dr Browster they find the contrary of all that from a


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