your mistake. While he spoke, he ceased to of a melancholy, not that contracted, but be a man, and became something more ama- that swelled the soul, of a melancholy that zing. When he alluded to what he had en looked down upon the world with indignadured, you did not compassionate him, for tion, and that relieved its secret load with you felt that he was a creature of another curses and execrations. We frequently connature; but you confessed, that never man_tinued whole nights in the participation of seemed to have suffered so much, or to sa- these bitter joys; and were surprised, still at vour with such bitterness the cup of wo. He our serious board, by the light of the mordid not love his wife or his children as any row's sun. other man would do; he probably never

If ever on the face of the earth there lived dandled or fondled them; his love was a misanthrope, Bethlem Gabor was the man. speechless; and disdaining the common Never for a moment did he forget or forgive the modes of exhibition, it might sometimes be sanguinary catastrophe of his family, and for mistaken for indifference. But it brooded his own misfortunes he seemed to have vowover and clung round his heart; and, when ed vengeance against the whole human race. it was disturbed, when the strong ties of do- He almost hated the very face of man; and, mestic charity were by the merciless hand of when expressions of cheerfulness, peace and war snapped asunder, you then saw its vo- contentment discovered themselves in his luminous folds spread and convulsed before presence, I could see, by the hideous working you, gigantic and immeasurable. He cursed of his features, that his spirit experienced their murderers, he cursed mankind, he rose intolerable agonies. To him such expresup in fierce defiance of eternal Providence; sions were tones horribly discordant; all was and your blood curdled within you as he uproar and havoc within his own bosom, spoke. Such was Bethlem Gabor: I could and the gaiety of other men inspired him not help admiring him; his greatness ex- with sentin.ents of invincible antipathy. He cited my wonder and my reverence; and never saw a festive board without an incliwhile his manners awed and overwhelmed nation to overturn it; or a father encircled me, I felt an inexplicable attachment to his with a smiling family, without feeling his person still increasing in my bosom. soul thrill with suggestions of murder. Some

On his part, my kindness and partiality thing, I know not what, withheld his hand; appeared scarcely less pleasing to Bethlem it might be some remaining atom of huGabor, than his character and discourse manity; it might be-for his whole characwere fascinating to me. He had found him- ter was contemplative and close-it might be self without a confidant or a friend. His wife that he regarded that as a pitiful and impoand his children in a certain degree under- tent revenge, which should cause him the stood him; and, though he had an atmos- next hour to be locked up as a madman, or phere of repulsion beyond which no mortal put to death as a criminal. Horrible as was ever penetrated, they came to the edge of his personal aspect, and wild and savage as that, and rested there; they trembled invo- was his mind, yet, as I have already said, I luntarily at his aspect, but at the same time felt myself attached to him. I knew that all they adored and they loved him. The rest the social propensities that animated him, of the world viewed him from a more fear- were the offspring of love, were the sentiful distance; respected him, but dared not, ments of a lioness bereaved of her young; even in fancy, be familiar with him. When, and I found an undescribable and exhaustless therefore, he lost his family, he lost his all. pleasure in examining the sublime desolation He roamed the earth in solitude, and all men of a mighty soul. made room for him as he passed. I was the

first who, since the fatal event that had made Such is the portrait crayoned by the him childless and a beggar, had courted his dark pencil of Godwin, some feature society, and invited his communications. I of which frowns under the beaver of had dared to take the lion by the paw, and There every ruffian hero in every ballad epic seat myself next him in his den. was a similarity in our fortunes that secretly of the day. The scene, the costume, endeared him to me. We had each, by the and the condition may be changed,malice of a hostile destiny, though in a very the form is one, and the impression is different manner, been deprived of our fami- the same. "Harold the Dauntless," lies; we were each of us alone. Fated each

to be hereafter for ever alone, we blended is altogether a less interesting and less ourselves the one with the other, as perfectly amiable bravo than Bethlem Gabor. as we could. Often over our gloomy bowl He is inhuman in his hate, implacable we mingled groans, and sweetened our in his revenge, and, equally, a brute draught as we drank it with maledictions. In the school of Bethlem Gabor I became ac- in physical force and intellectual imquainted with the delights of melancholy, becility. But we will give the reader

floor.'

6 on the

singing a love song, from which it ap-
pears, that she had plighted her faith
with Lord William,

The heir of Wilton's lofty tower.'
In the midst of her ditty, however,-

VII.

Sudden she stops-and starts to feel
A weighty hand, a glove of steel,
Upon her shrinking shoulder laid;
A Knight in plate and mail array'd,
Fearful she turn'd, and saw, dismay'd,
His crest and bearing worn and fray'd,
His surcoat soil'd and riven,
Form'd like that giant race of yore,
Whose long-continued crimes outwore
The sufferance of heaven.

Though then he used his gentlest tone:
Stern accents made his pleasure known,
Maiden,' he said, 'sing forth thy glee,
Start not-sing on-it pleases me.'

But there was one who had not partaken of the revel; this was 'flaxen hair'd Gunnar,' the page of Lord Harold, and his foster-mother's child. This tender- This, as the reader may well suppose, hearted youth cannot bear to think is no other than the gentle Harold; of his amiable master's being exposed but he will not, probably, be better preto the darkness and cold,' shelterless wold;' he therefore, loyally, for what follows; which is neither more pared than the trembling Metelill' was, taking advantage of the general ebriety, nor less than a blunt intimation, that he robs one of the priests of his purse, is so well satisfied with her, that he another of his cloak, steals the Senes- intends to do her the honour of tachal's keys, and mounting the Bi- king her to wife,-of which magnanishop's palfry gay,' sets out in search of mous determination he directs her to the self-exiled Harold.' After some inform her parents. Poor Metelill, not hesitation, Harold agrees to accept exactly relishing the high destiny' alhim as a follower of his fortunes,— lotted her, keeps this dreadful denunciation to herself. But Harold does not allow her much respite. In a few days he makes his appearance again, and bolts into the cottage to demand his with bride. 'Wulfstane,' Metelill's father, who is a poacher by profession, would at first fain make fight with him, but gathering more presence of mind, on a second survey of his enormous stature, thinks it wiser to turn him over to the management of Jutta,' his wife, who is a famous witch.' Jutta begins to mutter over all her incantations, but finding, at last, that what she had mistaken for a spectre, is, bonâ fide, flesh In the mean time, Count Witikind and blood, she abandons her witchdies, and, his graceless son not appear- craft, and has recourse to her wit. ing, the church resumes its lands. This She succeeds in prevailing on Harold closes the first Canto.

'Twere boothless to tell what climes they sought,
Ventures achieved and battles fought;
How oft with few, how oft alone,
Fierce Harold's arm the field had won.
Men swore his eye that flash'd so red,
When each other glance was quench'd
dread,

Bore oft a light of deadly flame

That ne'er from mortal courage came.
Those limbs so strong, that mood so stern,
That loved the couch of heath and fern,
Afar from hamlet, tower, and town,
More than to rest on driven down;
That stubborn frame, that sullen mood,
Men deem'd must come of aught but good,
And they whisper'd, the great master fiend was

at one

With Harold the Dauntless, Count Witikind's

son.

The next Canto introduces,

'Fair Metelill, a woodland maid,'

to defer his purpose for that night, and the moment she gets rid of him, and finishes a conjugal skirmish with her

Harold calls upon their reverences without periphrasis or ceremony, for restitution of his lands. Aldingar, when he recovers his powers of speech, tells him that it cannot be, for two reasons,

spouse, she starts off, whether on foot or on a broomstick is not stated, and setting every priest she passes, in her basty journey, to muttering and crossing himself, and every cur to barking, and the foxes to yelling, and the cocks to first, because he is an unchristened crowing, and the curlews to screeching, and the ravens to croaking, and the cat-o-mountains to screaming, she proceeds cheered by such music,' to

a deep dell and rocky stone,' where

Dane,' and next, because the lands have -'been granted anew

casses!!

VI.

To Anthony Conyers and Alberic Vere.' Harold soon does away the force of this last objection, by tossing on the alshe raises the very devil himself,-or, tar the head of Conyers and the hand as the poet couches it, in more courtly of Vere, new severed from their carterms, a god of heathen days.' The second Canto closes with a spirited tête-a-tête, between the witch and the demon, in which it seems to be concluded between this worthy couple, that the best way to cure Lord Harold's love fit, will be to set him by the ears with the church, about his towers and lands, on the Wear and the Tyne.'

In the third Canto, Gunnar sings to his Lord, several monitory songs, tending to warn him against the charms of Metelill, and the arts of Jutta, who, it seems, had set him forward on his errand to St. Cuthbert's' Chapter.

The fourth Canto assembles the priests and prelate of St. Cuthbert in solemn conclave. The haughty Aldingar is seated in the episcopal chair, whilst

Canons and deacons were placed below,
In due degree and lengthen'd row.
Unmoved and silent each sate there,
Like image in his oaken chair;
Nor head, nor hand, nor foot, they stirr'd,
Nor lock of hair, nor tress of beard,
And of their eyes severe alone

The twinkle show'd they were not stone.
III.

The Prelate was to speech address'd,
Each head sunk reverend on each breast:
But ere his voice was heard-without
Arose a wild tumultuous shout,
Offspring of wonder mix'd with fear,
Such as in crowded streets we hear
Hailing the flames, that, bursting out,
Attract yet scare the rabble rout.
Ere it had ceas'd, a giant hand
Shook oaken door and iron band,
Till oak and iron both gave way,
Clash'd the long bolts, the hinges bray,
And ere upon angel or saint they can call,
Stands Harold the Dauntless in midst of the

hall.

Count Harold laugh'd at their looks of fear:
Was that the head should wear the casque
'Was this the hand should your banner bear?
In battle at the church's task?
Was it to such you gave the place
Find me between the Wear and Tyne
Of Harold with the heavy mace?
A knight will wield this club of mine-
Give him my fiefs, and I will say
He raised it, rough with many a stain,
There's wit beneath the cowl of gray.'-
Caught from crush'd scull and spouting brain;
He wheel'd it that it shrilly sung,
Then dash'd it down with sheer descent,
And the aisles echoed as it swung,
And split King Osric's monument.--
'How like ye this music? How trow ye the hand
That can wield such a mace may be reft of its
No answer?—I spare ye a space to agree,
And Saint Cuthbert inspire you, a saint if he be.
Ten strides through your chancel, ten strokes on
your bell,

land?

And again I am with you-grave fathers farewell.'

After this unwelcome intruder retires, a jocular debate ensues among the monks, in which it is facetiously proposed either to assassinate or poison him. But the Bishop overrules these motions for the present, and resolves to put Harold on some perilous probation, in which he may perish. When Harold returns to demand their ultimatum, Aldingar receives him very graciously, bids him to dinner, and promises him, that

While the wine sparkles high in the goblet of gold,

And the revel is loudest, [his] task shall be told:

Accordingly a story is sung to him of an enchanted castle, where six monarchs had been simultaneously mur

This appeal is efficacious. Harold With this apparition Harold holds is struck with conviction, stays his solemn communion, which, on the part uplifted hand,-nay, signs himself with of the disembodied interlocutor, ends with this dreadful denouncement,

If thou yield'st to thy fury, how tempted soever,
The gate of repentance shall ope for thee never.

A little shocked at this ghostly visitation, Harold bethinks himself of recruiting his courage, with a dram, from a cordial contained in a flasket given him by one of the hospitable monks of St. Cuthbert, and to which the crafty priest had attributed all the virtues which Don Quixote ascribed to his catholicon, though, as it proves in the sequel, this boasted panacea was a distillation of all the noxious plants, that hold dire enmity with blood of