conversion of Harold's page into a female*, are additional specimens of unsuccessful contrivance, by which, at a great expence of probability, little pleasure is created, and no astonishment, unless it be at the unaccountable failure of invention and judgment in writers so highly gifted with both.

The novelist and poet are both distinguished by their familiarity with national superstitions, and their love of dwelling on the various modes in which human affairs are supposed to be affected by supernatural influence. Their fancy revels and luxuriates amidst omens, magic spells, predictions, mysterious warnings, presages and prophetic dreams, and prognostications by second sight; they have at their command

Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire,
And aery tongues +;

of goblins and fairies, witches and sorcerers, ghosts and dæmons, and sprites from water, air, and earth. Of the larger poems published by the author of Marmion there is not one; of the novels produced by the author of Waverley there are but two or three, in which some appeal, more or less forcible, is not directed to our involuntary sympathy with popular superstition. Among the minor works of the poet, his Glenfinlas and Eve of St. John‡ afford abundant proof of his terrifying powers; though the first of these ballads, it is just to observe, possesses a much higher claim

*Harold the Dauntless, canto vi. st. 11, &c.
↑ Comus.

See Border Minstrelsy, vol. iii. part iii.

to praise in its beautiful imagery, and mournful sweetness of composition.

I do not presume to insinuate, that either the novelist or the poet is a serious believer in any of those mysterious phenomena, which they have celebrated in their writings; but it is evident that a strong and cherished predilection for the wild and wonderful,' and a continued study of all subjects falling under the denomination of the marvellous, have produced upon their ardent minds an effect at least analogous to that described in the following excellent passage of the Life of Dryden.

"Collins has thus celebrated Fairfax:

"Prevailing poet, whose undoubting mind

Believed the magic wonders which he sung."

Nor can there be a doubt, that, as every work of ima'gination is tinged with the author's passions and pre'judices, it must be deep and energetic in proportion to

the character of these impressions. Those superstitious 'sciences and pursuits, which would by mystic rites, doc

trines, and inferences connect us with the invisible world of 'spirits, or guide our daring researches to a knowledge of 'future events, are indeed usually found to cow, crush, and utterly stupify, understandings of a lower rank; but if the 'mind of a man of acute powers, and of warm fancy, becomes slightly imbued with the visionary feelings excited by such studies, their obscure and undefined influence is ' ever found to aid the sublimity of his ideas, and to give 'that sombre and serious effect, which he can never pro'duce, who does not himself feel the awe which it is his

object to excite. The influence of such a mystic creed is often felt where the cause is concealed; for the habits

thus acquired are not confined to their own sphere of 'belief, but gradually extend themselves over every ad'jacent province: and perhaps we may not go too far in believing, that he who has felt their impression, though only in one branch of faith, becomes fitted to describe, ' with an air of reality and interest, not only kindred sub'jects, but superstitions altogether opposite to his own.'Life of Dryden, sec. viii. p. 506. ed. 1808.

I must not pass without particular notice one purely fanciful subject, on which both writers are unusually fond of exercising their imaginative powers, I mean Dreams. Let me beg of you to compare the following specimens, and observe how strikingly they correspond in thought and manner.

"The hall was cleared-the Stranger's bed
Was there of mountain heather spread,
Where oft an hundred guests had lain,
And dreamed their forest sports again.
But vainly did the heath-flower shed
Its moorland fragrance round his head;
Not Ellen's spell had lulled to rest
The fever of his troubled breast:
In broken dreams the image rose
Of varied perils, pains, and woes;
His steed now flounders in the brake,
Now sinks his barge upon the lake;
Now leader of a broken host,

His standard falls, his honour 's lost.

Then, from my couch may heavenly might

Chase that worst phantom of the night!

Again returned the scenes of youth,

Of confident undoubting truth;

Again his soul he interchanged

With friends whose hearts were long estranged,

1

At length, with Ellen in a grove
He seemed to walk, and speak of love;
She listened with a blush and sigh,
His suit was warm, his hopes were high.

He sought her yielded hand to clasp,

And a cold gauntlet met his grasp:

The phantom's sex was changed and gone,

Upon its head a helmet shone;

Slowly enlarged to giant size,

With darkened cheek and threatening eyes,

The grisly visage, stern and hoar,

To Ellen still a likeness bore.

He woke."

Lady of the Lake, Canto I. St. 33, 4.

It is seldom that sleep, after such violent agitation, is ' either sound or refreshing. Lovel's was disturbed by a 'thousand baseless and confused visions. He was a bird

-he was a fish-or he flew like the one and swam like 'the other, qualities which would have been very essential 'to his safety a few hours before. Then Miss Wardour was

6

a syren, or a bird of paradise; her father a triton, or sea'gull; and Oldbuck alternately a porpoise and a cormorant. • These agreeable imaginations were varied by all the usual vagaries of a feverish dream; the air refused to bear the 'visionary, the water seemed to burn him-the rocks felt ' like down pillows as he was dashed against them-what• ever he undertook failed in some strange and unexpected 6 manner-and whatever attracted his attention underwent,

' as he attempted to investigate it, some wild and wonderful metamorphosis, while his mind continued all the while in 'some degree conscious of the delusion, from which it in ⚫ vain struggled to free itself by awaking-feverish symptoms all, with which those who are haunted by the night

hag, whom the learned call Ephialtes, are but too well 'acquainted. At length these crude phantasmata arranged 'themselves into something more regular.'— Antiquary, vol. i, ch. 10.

6

• Morton retired to a few hours' rest; but his imagination, ❝ disturbed by the events of the day, did not permit him to enjoy sound repose. There was a blended vision of 'horror before him, in which his new friend seemed to be a 'principal actor. The fair form of Edith Bellenden also

mingled in his dream, weeping and with dishevelled hair, ' and appearing to call on him for comfort and assistance which he had it not in his power to render. He awoke 'from these unrefreshing slumbers with a feverish impulse, ' and a heart which foreboded disaster. There was already "a tinge of dazzling lustre on the verge of the distant hills, ' and the dawn was abroad in all the freshness of a summer 'morning.'-Tales of My Landlord, First Series, vol. ii.

ch. 6.

It sometimes happens, as most persons have observed, that a sound reaching the external sense during sleep is caught up by the fancy, and, by some strange power of adaptation, interwoven with the tissue of a dream. This circumstance has not escaped the novelist and poet.

"Again he roused him-on the lake
Look'd forth, where now the twilight flake

Of pale cold dawn began to wake.

On Coolin's cliffs the mist lay furl'd,

The morning breeze the lake had curl'd,