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And we are vigilant--thy late commands of Dr. Young. His vigorous reasoning, Have been fulfilled to the utmost.

his holy melancholy, his philosophic reThis is the very language of a waiting- signation, his moral sublimity, and Chrismaid. Similar tameness and insipidity tian faith, will present a strong and saluare not rare in this poem. In fine, we tary contrast to the sickly sentimentality, look upon Manfred as the least credita- the miserable fears, the still more miserable production of lord Byron's pen. ble daring, the grovelling philosophy, and We are ourselves at a loss for that irre- the forlorn atheism of lord Byron. sistible charm which so many find in his But it is not ours to dictate. Yet we lordship's poetry. If it be the gloominess must be permitted, whilst we leave others of his pictures that is so attractive to con- to the gratification of their capricious genial spirits, we must, indeed, concede tastes, to desire that no modern hero, no the palm to him. But if it be the awe sublimated monster,—no Mokanna, with which even the least reverent treatment of solemu subjects fills the

informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum, mind, the same sensation in a more ex- no Manfred, quisite degree may be awakened by read

With A te by his side, come hot from hell, ing the Night 'Thoughts; and we would urge

it upon those of lord Byron's vota- may ramp in our path, what time we forries, who have never read that in- sake the Parthenon to stray with the comparable poem, to seek a solace

muses in the vale of Tempe. for their sombre feelings in the pages E.

Art. 4. Flora Philadelphica Prodromus, or Prodromus of the Flora Philadelphica,

exhibiting a list of all the plants to be described in that work which have as yet been collected. By Dr. William P. C. Barton. Philadelphia. 1815. 4to. pp. 100. A a

issued previous to the publication that he professes the intention or wish of a larger one on the same subject, and that his work should become a manual to whose object is to inform the public of the the Philadelphian Botanist. Whether this author's views, improvements or disco- wish may ever be fulfilled is rather proveries, by giving a succinct account of blematical, since besides handing us his them; this last particular therefore dis- Prodromus in a 4to. size, a very unusual tinguishes this performance from the shape for a pocket companion, it has been Prospectus, which is merely intended to printed in transverse columns, which have convey an idea of the plan of a subse

a very uncouth and forbidding appearquent work.

This denomination has ance; some of them are entirely useless however been hitherto nearly confined to and almost blank, while the whole matter works on Natural History and Botany, might have been very easily included in a and they have been sometimes issued small volume of about 60 pages; and without the intention of publishing an- lastly, the localities of the plants are alother work on the same subject. They together omitted. This unaccountable are often in fact works of great merit, omission renders the work of no value to worthy to stand isolated, and at all times the practical Botanist who may hereafter of greater practical utility than expensive wish to search for the plants enumerated publications.

The Prodromus Flora by the author. No local Flora, or ProNovce Hollandiæ of Brown, the Prodro- dromus of a Flora can be deemed perfect, mus Floræ Grecæ of Smith, and the unless the student or Botanist is directed Prodromus Flora Capensis of Thunberg, to the places where the plants were found. may be mentioned as instances of able The omission of this necessary circumperformances of this kind.

stance carries with it an ambiguous apBut in order to render them eminently pearance, and a severe critic might insitìseful, their authors have generally had nuate that many plants are enumerated in view that they should answer the pur- without the authority of personal evipose of practical manuals, wherefore dence; but we are far from intending to they have been printed in a diminutive intimate any such suspicion, and only size, and in a shape likely to include a wish, (and we expect every botanist will great deal of matter within a small com

agree with us) that our researches pass. It appears that the author of this for many rare plants mentioned in this Prodromus has entirely overlooked such Prodromus had been facilitated. Mean


almost dares defy it. Ashamed of that mais l'être de fixer nos regards sur les weakness of nerves to which he owes his peintures dégodtantes qui nous en retramisfortunes, he affects to wrap himself in cent la difformité ? Le moyen le plus cerstern indifference. To avert injury he tain pour le faire haïr, est d'offrir, avec becomes the aggressor. Having relin- tous ses charmes, 'la brillante image de quished the pursuit of virtue as unattaina- la virtu.' Very different has been the ble, he underrates its value, and questions course of lord Byron. He has never atits existence. He attempts to destroy tempted to excite reverence for piety, or moral distinctions, or labours “to make emulation of virtue. The courage he has the worse appear the better reason. To lauded, and it is the only good quality this. moody madness' we ascribe some he has imparted to most of the actors in of lord Byron's characteristic excellen- his plots, has ever been displayed in spurncies, and most of his peculiar faults. ing man and braving the majesty of heaven. Those are incidental and superinduced, He seems to have forgotten that the authese are radical and connate with his thors of fiction are bound to incuicate conceptions.

truth, and that the object of the fine arts The defects of his lordship's poetry is the imitation of natural and the proare such as admit of no other extenua- duction of moral beauty. Instead of ention, than might be pleaded by the per- deavouring to add to the number of innopetrators of the crimes, on which his lord- cent delights, and to increase the sum of ship loves so dearly to descant. In fact, we human happiness, he has only toiled to think them less susceptible of palliation. add ideal to actual distresses, and to We can forgive something to the frailty shroud all the sunny prospects of life in which sinks under temptation, but what

a dismal night. No enthusiast ever excuse can we find for one who in his sought the to Kakov. with greater dilicalmest hours, and in the most tranquil gence or zeal than lord Byron has disretirement, will feast with a carnivorous covered in the search of the ro Kaxov and appetite on the vilest and most degrading to Auszpov Manfred is the most atrocious contemplations, and find an unnatural hero that lord Byron's prolific muse has enjoyment in embalming in all the odours yet produced. We have said that lord of song, the most loathsome recrements Byron has painted from himself.

We of mortality! Such is the elegant amusement of lord Byron. Never has his lord- either the overt acts he has charged upon

do not mean to impure to his lordship ship found a hero worthy of his lyre, the offspring of his fancy, or even the whose exploits had not rendered him, premeditation of similar enormities. But in the eye of justice and the law, equally we have a right to ascribe to his lordship worthy of the gibbet. Nor does he hold sentiments expressed by himself, entirely up these monsters as examples to deter,' analagous to those he has avowedly asthough he may not design them as “ pat- sumed. In • Childe Harold,' we may disterns to imitate.' He uniformly repre- cover the stamina of all his lordship's sents their vices as the consequences of heroes. They are precisely what`Childe an intellectual greatness which had ele- Harold' would have been in their situavated them above the thoughts and fears tion. Since then, Childe Harold' is per. of common men ; and seems to resolve fectly understood to be lord Byron, and the idea of perfect grandeur of soul into a

as all his Giaours, Corsairs, &c. are but magnanimous contempt of all statutes duplicates of Childe Harold,' and as it is and sanctions human and divine. What

a geometrical axiom that things that are ever inference others may draw from his equal to the same thing are equal to one fables, he leaves us in no doubt in regard another, we have a right to consider lord to his own opinions. But even had lord Byron as speaking in the person of these Byron intended to excite a detestation of imaginary ruffians. At least it is fair to vice, which it is evident he did not, he conclude that his lordship must in some has not employed the proper means to

measure approve what he is so assiduous attain his end. As it has been well ob- in promulgating. We will waive, howserved by Madame de Genlis, to hate

ever, our remarks on the character of evil we need only learn to love good; and Manfred till we have made him better though we cannot escape the knowledge known to our readers. of the existence of wickedness, we are As there is little intricacy in the story not obliged continually to dress it out in of this Dramatic Poem, we shall, as far all the array of circumstance. “S'il est

as possible, make it explain itself. It necessaire, says this excellent writer, opens in an imposing manner. The curde savoir que le vice existe, peut-il ja- tain rises, and discovers • MANFRED alone

VOL. I. NO, V.


2 Y

--scene, a Gothic gallery Time, Mid- last, that he cannot obtain this blessing night.'

at their hand, he finally requests that they Manfred is communing with himself. will


to him in their accustomed Man. The lamp must be replenish'd, but even forms, but they not being accustomed then

to wear any forms, find a difficulty in It will not burn so long as I must watch :

complying even with this innocent desire. My slumbers—if I slumber-are not sleep,

They offer, however, to appear in any But a continuance of enduring thought, Which then I can resist not : in my heart

shape he may choose. There is a vigil, and these eyes but close

Man. I have no choice; there is no form on To look within; and yet I live, and bear

earth The aspect and the form of breathing men. Hideous or beautiful to me. Let him, But grief should be the instructor of the wise;

Who is most powerful of ye, take such aspect Sorrow is knowledge : they who know the most

As unto him may seem most fitting --Come! Must mourn the deepest o'er the fatal truth :

Seventh Spi. (Appearing in the shape of a beauThe Tree of Knowledge is not that of Life.

tiful female figure.) Behold! Philosophy and science, and the springs

Man. Oh God! if it be thus, and thou Of wonder, and the wisdom of the world,

Art not a madness and a mockery, I have essayed, and in my mind there is

I yet might be most happy. I will clasp thee, A power to make these subject to itself

And we again will be- [The figure vanishes. But they avail not: I have done men good,

My heart is crushd! And I have met with good even among men--

(Manfred falls senseless. But this avail'd not: I have had my foes, And none bave baffled, many fallen before me... After this a voice utters a long incanBut this avail'd not :---Good, or evil, life,

tation, which concludes with the followPowers, passions, all I see in other beings,

ing denouncement.
Have been to me as rain unto the sands,
Since that all-nameless hour. I have no dread, And on thy head I pour the vial
And feel the curse' to have no natural fear,

Which doth devote thee to this trial;
Nor fluttering throb, that beats with hopes or

Nor to slumber, nor to die,

Shall be in thy destiny ;
Or lurking love of something on the earth.... Though thy death shall still seem near
Now to my task.---

To thy wish, but as a fear

Lo! the spell now works around thee, The task he speaks of is no small one, And the clankless chain hath bound thee; ----for though it be an easy thing enough O'er thy heari and brain together 'to call spirits from the vasty deep,' yet it Hath the word been pass’d---now wither! is not often that they will come, when The next scene presents Manfred on we do call for them.' Manfred, however, the Mountain of the Jungfrau.' He is was a potent enchanter, and at his sum- soliloquizing again. He seems inclined mons, his familiars, after much demur

to precipitate himself from this giddy ing, at last attend. There are seven of. height, but, continues he, these spirits who obey the invocation-- There is a power upon me which withholds the cloud spirit, the mountain spirit, the And makes it my fatality to live; water spirit, the fire spirit, the storm If it be life to wear within myself spirit, the spirit of darkness, and the spirit This barrenness of spirit, and to be of the ruling star of Manfred's destiny,

My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased which star is indeed typical of his ge

To justify my deeds unto myself

The last infirmity of evil. nius, being

The burning wreck of a demolish'd world, How beautiful is all this visible world!
A wandering hell in the eternal space.

How glorious in its action and itself;
All these spirits have something to say

But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, for themselves, which we have not room

Half dust, half deity, alike unfit

To sink or soar, with our mix'd essence make to copy, and the omission of which is no A conflict of its elements, and breathe great loss. We at length ascertain the The breath of degradation and of pride, object of this extraordinary convocation, Contending with low wants and lofty will the spirits putting a very natural interroga- And men are--what they name not to them

Till our mortality predominates, tory,

selves, What wouldst thou with us, son of mortals--- And trust not to each other. Hark! the note,

[The Shepherd's pipe in the distance is heard.] Man. Forgetfulness

The natural music of the mountain reedFirst Spi. Of what---of whom---and why? For here the patriarchal days are not Man Of that which is within me; read it A pastoral fable-pipes in the liberal air, there--

Mix'd with the sweet bells of the sauntering Ye know it, and I cannot utter it.

herds; The sprites, however, cannot grant him My soul would drink those echoes. -Ob that I this boon. Still he continues to demand The viewless spirit of a lovely sound, 'oblivion, self-oblivion,' till satisfied at A living voice, a breathing harmony,





same ;

A bodiless enjoyment-born and dying

Here, after a short soliloquy, he invokes With the blest tone which made me!

the “Witch of the Alps, who appears at A Chamois Hunter enters here. Man- his request. To this beautiful spirit,' he fred, without observing him, continues makes a very gallant speech. A dialogue his audible meditations, till he has firmly ensues between them. Manfred commade


his determination to throw him- plains of his disappointment, in discoverself from the mountain's summit into the ing the impotency of his subordinate spiyawning vale. At this instant the hun- rits. ter forcibly interposes, and they quietly

I have sought descended the declivity together, with From them what they could not bestow, and now

I search no further. commendable caution.

Witch. What could be the quest The second act introduces us to the Which is not in the power of the most powerful, hunter's cottage amongst the Bernese The rulers of the invisible ? Alps. The hunter offers wine to Man

A boon; fred.

But why should I repeat it? 'twere in vain.
Come, pledge me fairly.

Witch. I know not that ; let thy lips utter it. Man. Away, away! there's blood the

Man. Well, though

torture me, 'tis but the brim! Will it then never-never sink in the earth?

My pang shall find a voice. From my youth C. Hun. What dost thou mean? thy senses

upwards wander from thee.

My spirit walk'd not with the souls of men, Man. I say 'tis blood-my blood! the pure

Nor look'd upon the earth with human eyes ;

The thirst of their ambition was not mine, warm stream Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours

The aim of their existence was not mine ; When we were in our youth, and had one heart,

My joys, my griefs, my passions, and my powers, And loved each other as we should not love,

Made me a stranger; though I wore the form, And this was shed: but still it rises up,

I had no sympathy with breathing flesh, Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from hea

Nor midst the creatures of clay that girded me

Was there but one who—but of her anon ven, Where thou art not-and I shall never be.

I said, with men, and with the thought of men, C. Hun. Man of strange words, and some

I held but slight communion ; but instead, half-inaddening sin,

My joy was in the Wilderness, to breathe Which makes thee people vacancy, whate'er

The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, Thy dread and sufferance be, there's comfort

Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's yet

wing The aid of holy men, and heavenly patience

Flit o'er the herbless granite; or to plunge Man. Patience, and patience! Hence—that

Into the torrent, and to roll along word was made

On the swift whirl of the new breaking wave For brutes of burden, not for birds of prey;

Of river-stream or ocean, in their flow. Preach it to mortals of a dust like thine,

In these my early strength exulted ; or I am not of thine order.

To follow through the night the moving moon,

The stars and their developement ; or catch On the hunter's urging his maturer age, The dazzling lightnings till my eyes grew dim; Manfred proceeds:

Or to look, list’ning, on the scattered leaves, Think'st thou existence doth depend on time?

While Autumn winds were at their evening It doth ; but actions are our epochs: mine

song: Have made my days and nights imperishable,

These were my pastimes, and to be alone ; Endless, and all alike, as sands on the shore,

For if the beings, of whom I was one, lanumerable atoms; and one desert,

Hating to be so-cross'd me in my path, Barren and cold, on which the wild wayes break,

I felt myself degraded back to them, But nothing rests, save carcasses and wrecks, And was all clay again. And then I dived, Rocks, and the salt-surf weeds of bitterness.

In my lone wanderings, to the caves of death,

Searching its cause in its effect; and drew The hunter pronounces him mad, and From wither'd bones, and skulls, and heap'd up asks,

dust, What is it

Conclusions most forbidden. Then I pass'd That thou dost see, or think thou look'st upon?

The nights of years in sciences untaught, Man. Myself, and theema peasant of the

Save in the old-time ; and with time and toil, Alps--

And terrible ordeal, and such penance Thy humble virtues, hospitable home,

As in itself hath power upon the air, And spirit patient, pious, proud and free;

And spirits that do conipass air and earth, Thy self-respect, grafted on innocent thoughts; Space, and the peopled infinite, I made Thy days of health, and nights of sleep; thy toils,

Mine eyes familiar with eternity, By danger dignified, yet guiltless; hopes

did the Magi, and of cheerful old age and a quiet grave,

He who from out their fountain dwellings raised

Eros and Anteros at Gadara,
With cross a:.d garland over its green turf,
And thy grandchildren's love for epitaph ;

As I do thee ;-and with my knowledge grew Thi 5 I see---and then I look within--.

The thirst of knowledge, and the power and joy It is ters not--- my soul was scorch'd already!

Of this most bright intelligence, until

Witch. Proceed. Manfred, having quitted the hut, is Man. Oh! I but thus prolonged my words, next seen in a low valley of the Alps. Boasting these idle attributes, because

Such as,

before me.

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As I approach the core of my heart's grief Nem. I was detained repairing shattered But to my task. I have not named to thee

thrones, Father or mother, mistress, friend, or being, Marrying fools, restoring dynasties, With whom I wore the chain of human ties; Avenging men upon their enemies, If I had such, they seem'd not such to me- And making them repent their own revenge; Yet there was one

Goading the wise to madness; from the dull Witch. Spare not thyself-proceed.

Shaping out oracles to rule the world Man. She was like me in lineaments-her Afresh, for they were waxing out of date, eyes,

And mortals dared to ponder for themselves, Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone To weigh kings in the balance, and to speak Even of her voice, they said were like to mine; Of freedom, the forbidden fruit. Away! But soften'd all, and temper'd into beauty ; We have outstaid the hour---mount we our clouds? She had the same lone thoughts and wander

(Exeunt. ings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind

We are now admitted into the hall of To comprehend the universe ; nor these Arimanes, a very powerful and pestiAlone, but with them gentler powers than mine, lent spirit, to whom all the rest are subPity, and smiles, and tears—which I had not; servient. Here allthese incorporeal agents And tenderness--but that I had for her; Humility-and that I never had.

are congregated. Manfred intrudes into Her faults were mine---her virtues were her the assembly. He is reproved for his

rashness, and commanded to worship I loved her, and destroy'd her!

Arimanes. He refuses. The spirits cry Witch. With thy hand ?

outMan. Not with my band, but heart---which

Crush the worm! broke her heart

Tear biin in pieces!-It gazed on mine, and withered I have shed Blood, but not hers---and yet her blood was The first Destiny steps forward to vinshed

dicate him. She declares him, a man I saw-and could not stanch it.

Of no common order, as his port The Witch promises him, if he will And presence here denote, swear fealty to her, she will aid a wish

his aspirations he nowexpresses as allthat remains to him Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth, to raise the dead. He contemns the And they have only taught him what we knowproposition, and dismisses her. Another But an exchange of ignorance for that

That knowledge is not happiness, and science monologue concludes this scene.

Which is another kind of ignorance.
We are again obliged to climb the
Jungfrau mountain. The Destinies are

She adds, that he has become the vicconvening by moonlight on its summit. tim of his passions. They successively inform us of their seve

Manfred demands the evocation of ral employments. That of the second Astarte from the tomb. Her phantom

rises and stands in the midst.' Manfred Destiny has a political allusion, which will be easily understood.

accosts it. He urges her to speak to him. The Captive Usurpes,

Look on me !---the grave hath not chang'd thee
Hurl'd down from the throne,
Lay buried in torpor,

Than I am chang'd for thee. Thou lovedst me
Forgotten and lone;

Too much, as I loved thee: we were not made
I broke through his slumbers,

To torture thus each other, though it were
I sbivered his chain,

The deadliest sin to love as we have loved.
I leagued him with numbers.--

The voice which was my music---Speak to me!
He's Tyrant again!

For I have call'd on thee in the still night, With the blood of a inillion he'll answer my care,

Startled the slumbering birds from the hush'd With a nation's destruction---his flight and de

boughs, spair.

And woke the mountain wolves, and made the The third Destiny has been wrecking Acquainted with thy vainly echoed name, a vessel, from which she had suffered Which answered meonly one to escape,

The spectre at last pronounces these And he was a subject well worthy my care;

solemn wordsA traitor on land, and a pirate at sea--

Pham, Manfred! To-morrow ends thine But I have saved him to wreak further havoc for me!

earthly ills.

Farewell! The first of these Fatal Sisters now re

To his entreaties to add . lates her pastime,—which consisted in more,' she only repeats 'farewell, faredesolating a city by the plague. Neme- well!' and utters his name as she dissis next enters, and gives the following account of her evening's recreation; which

appears. has a bearing at least as palpable, as the subdues his agitation. On observing his

Manfred is convulsed with agony; but one already pointed out.

deportment, one of the spirits says,



one word

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