glare of the lamp fell on his pale features, which were no longer obscured as formerly, by long matted locks, or the overgrown grizzly beard, for these had been closely. shaven. It could no longer be said that I was in vigorous health, while he was emaciated, for in that respect we were now alike. He glared on me with the grin, the ghastly laughter, of madness on his visage. At the first glance I RECOGNIZED MYSELF, and losing all consciousness and self-possession, fell in a deadly swoon on the pavement. "From this state of insensibility I was awoke by a violent pain in the arm. There was a clear light around me; the rattling of chains, and knocking of hammers sounded through the vault. The gaoler and his assistants were occupied in loading me with irons. Besides handcuffs and anklefetters, I was, by means of a chain and an iron hoop, to be fastened to the wall. "Now,' said the gaoler, in a satisfied tone, when the workmen had finished, the gentleman will probably find it adviseable to give over troubling us with his attempts to escape for the future!' "But what crimes, then,' said the blacksmith, in an under tone, has this obstreperous fellow committed ?' 6 "How?' said the gaoler, dost thou not know that much, Jonathan? The whole town talks of nothing else. He is a cursed Capuchin monk, who has murdered three men. All has been fully proved. In a few days there is to be a grand gala; and among other diversions, the scaffold and the wheel will not fail to play their part!' "I heard no more, and my senses were again lost. I know not how long I remained in that state, from which I only painfully and with difficulty awoke. I was alone, and all was utter darkness; but, after some interval, faint gleams of daylight broke into the low deep vault, scarcely six feet square, into which I now, with the utmost horror, perceived that I had been removed from my former prison. I was tormented with extreme thirst, and grappled at the water-jug which stood near me. Cold and moist, it slipped out of my benumbed hands before I had gained from it even one imperfect draught, and, with abhorrence, I saw a large overgrown toad crawl out of it as it lay on the floor. 'Aurelia ! I groaned, in that feeling of nameless misery into which I was now sunk-"Aurelia!—and was it for this that I have been guilty of hypocrisy and abominable falsehood in the court of justicefor this only, that I might protract, by a few hours, a life of torment and misery? What would'st thou,' said I to myself, ⚫ delirious wretch, as thou art? Thou strivest after the possession of Aurelia, who could be thine only through an abominable and blasphemous crime; and however thou VOL. XVI. might'st disguise thyself from the world, she would infallibly recognize in thee the accursed murderer of Hermogen, and look on thee with detestation. Miserable deluded fool, where are now all thy high-flown projects, thy belief and confidence in thine own supernatural power, by which thou could'st guide thy destiny even as thou wilt? Thou art wholly unable and power. less to kill the worm of conscience, which gnaws on the heart's marrow, and thou wilt shamefully perish in hopeless grief, even if the arm of temporal justice should spare thee!'" Suppose, now, that Mr Von Leonard, in other words our Medardus, is not only at liberty, in consequence of the discovery of the other Medardus, but that he is on the very brink of being made the husband of her whose love has already tempted him to a hundred crimes-her whose beauty first fired his monkish bosom-her whose pure and lovely idea is destined to haunt him wherever he goes, almost as faithfully as the black shadow frantically, and who yet, even at the of his own guilt-her, who loves him moment when she is about to be his bride, can scarcely divest herself of the horror which Leonard's likeness to Medardus the murderer had at first excited in her bosom.-Imagine all this, and then read "We had no time for conversation, however. Scarcely had I saluted Aurelia, when a servant of the Prince announced that we were waited for by the wedding-party. She quickly drew on her gloves, and gave me her arm. Then one of her attendants remarked that some ringlets of her hair had fallen loose, and begged for a moment's delay. Aurelia seemed vexed at the interruption, but waited accordingly. At that moment a hollow rumbling noise, and a tumult of voices on the street, attracted our attention. At Aurelia's request I hastened to the window. There, just before the palace, was a leiter-wagen, which, on account of some obstacle, had stopped in the street. The car was surrounded by the executioners of justice; and within it, I perceived the horrible monk, who sat looking backwards, while before him was a capuchin, earnestly engaged in prayer. His countenance was deadly pale, and again disfigured by a grizzly beard, but the features of my detestable double were to me but too easily recognizable. "When the carriage, that had been for a short space interrupted by the crowd, began to roll on, he seemed awoke from his reverie, and turning up his staring spectral eyes towards me, instantly became animated. He laughed and howled aloudI Brüd-er-lein-Brüd-er-lein !' cried he. -Bride-groom!-Bride-groom!-Come quickly come quickly.-Up-up to the roof of the house. There the owl holds his wedding-feast; the weather-cock sings aloud! There shall we contend together, and whoever casts the other down is king, and may drink blood!" "The howling voice in which he uttered these words, the glare of his eyes, and the horrible writhings of his visage, that was like that of an animated corse, were more than, weakened as I was by previous agitation, I was able to withstand. From that moment I lost all self-possession; I became also utterly insane, and unconscious what I did! At first I tried to speak calmly. Horrible wretch !' said I; 'what mean'st thou? What would'st thou from me ?' "Then I grinned, jabbered, and howled back to the madman; and Aurelia, in an agony of terror, broke from her attendants, and ran up to me. With all her strength, she seized my arms, and endeavoured to draw me from the window. For God's sake,' cried she, leave that horrible spectacle; they are dragging Medardus, the murderer of my brother, to the scaffold. Leonard!-Leonard !' Ha "Then all the demons of hell seemed awoke within me, and manifested, in its utmost extent, that power which they are allowed to exercise over an obdurate and unrepentant sinner. With reckless cruelty I repulsed Aurelia, who trembled, as if shook by convulsions, in every limb -ha-ha!' I almost shrieked aloud'foolish, insane girl! I myself, thy lover, thy chosen bridegroom, am the murderer of thy brother! Would'st thou by thy complaints bring down destruction from heaven on thy sworn husband ?-Ho-ho-ho! I am king-I am king and will drink blood!' "I drew out the stiletto-I struck at Aurelia, blood streamed over my arm and hand, and she fell lifeless at my feet. I rushed down stairs,-forced my way through the crowd to the carriage-seized the monk by the collar, and with supernatural strength tore him from the car. Then I was arrested by the executioner; but with the stiletto in my hand, I defended myself so furiously, that I broke loose, and rushed into the thick of the mob, where, in a few moments, I found myself wounded by a stab in the side; but the people were struck with such terror, that I made my way through them as far as to the neighbouring wall of the park, which, by a frightful effort, I leapt over. "Murder-murder!-Stop-stop the murderer!' I had fallen down, almost fainting, on the other side of the wall, but these outcries instantly gave me new strength. Some were knocking with great violence, in vain endeavours to break open one of the park gates, which, not being the regular entrance, was always kept closed. Others were striving to clamber over the wall, which I had cleared by an incredible leap. I rose, and exerting my utmost speed, ran forward. I came, ere long, to a broad fosse, by which the park was separated from the adjoining forest. By another tremendous effort, I jumped over, and continued to run on through the wood, until at last I sank down, utterly exhausted, under a tree. "I know not how the time had passed, but it was already evening, and dark shadows reigned through the forest, when I came again to my recollection. My progress in running so far had passed over like an obscure dream. I recollect only the wind roaring amid the dense canopy of the trees, and that many times I mistook some old moss-grown pollard stem for an officer of justice, armed and ready to seize upon me! "When I awoke from the swoon and. utter stupefaction into which I had fallen, my first impulse was merely to set out again, like a hunted wild beast, and fly, if possible, from my pursuers to the very end of the earth! As soon, however, as I was only past the frontiers of the Prince's dominions, I would certainly be safe from all immediate persecution. "I rose accordingly, but scarcely had I advanced a few steps, when there was a violent rustling in the thicket; and from thence, in a state of the most vehement rage and excitement, sprung the monk, who, no doubt in consequence of the disturbance. that I had raised, had contrived to make his escape from the guards and executioners. "In a paroxysm of madness he flew towards me, leaping through the bushes like a tiger, and finally sprung upon my shoulders, clasping his arms about my throat, so that I was almost suffocated. Under any other circumstances, I would have instantly freed myself from such an attack, but I was enfeebled to the last degree by the exertions I had undergone, and all that I could attempt was to render this feebleness subservient to my rescue. I fell down under his weight, and endeavoured to take advantage of that event. I rolled myself on the ground, and grappled with him; but in vain! I could not disengage myself, and my infernal double laughed scornfully. His abominable accents, 'He-he-he! He he he!' sounded amid the desolate loneliness of the woods. "During this contest, the moon broke, only for a moment, through the clouds, for the night was gloomy and tempestuous. Then, as her silvery gleam slanted through the dark shade of the pine trees, I beheld, in all its horror, the deadly pale visage of my second self, with the same expression which had glared out upon me from the cart in which he had been dragged to exe cution. He he he!-Broth-er, broth- These passages must suffice for "The Devil's Elixir." We had intended to introduce this work to our readers by some notices of the personal history of the author. His Memoirs are now before us: but we perceive that we cannot make any use of them without extending our article beyond all reasonable bounds. We shall, however, return to M. Hoffman next month, and present our friends with some of the most interesting passages in his very singular and picturesque life. In particular, his narrative of the occurrences which took place in and about Dresden at the time of Moreau's death, will, we are sure, be acceptable to all classes of readers. He was a man of true genius-unfortunately for himself, and for the world, he was a man of most irregular life and conversation, and he died at a very early period, of nothing but Rhine-wine and brandy punch, leaving many works behind to attest the greatness of the talents which he for the most part abused. His romances and tales are at present about the most popular of all books among the light readers of Germany: and, we have no doubt, "The Devil's Elixir" will command an abundant portion of favour among the kindred tribes of our own country. But we also think lessons of great and serious importance may be drawn from certain sonal and literary, and we shall therecircumstances in his career, both perfore not fail to redeem the pledge now given, in our ensuing Number. COCKNEY CONTRIBUTIONS FOR THE FIRST OF APRIL. [The following articles were intended for our April Number, but unfortunately have only now reached us. We print them, however, for the amazement of our readers. We had certainly appointed Leigh Hunt our Vice-laureat, but we gave him the place merely as a kind of sinecure. However, as Leigh hates all sinecures, he has taken up his pen crisply, and has not only sent us a complimentary letter, accompanied by a contribution of his own, written in a fine Italian hand, but has moreover ordered one of his gentlemen of the press-Billingsgate, alias Billy Hazlitt, Esquire,— to furnish an article, which he has done. HUNT AND HAZLITT BECOME CONTRIBUTORS TO BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE!!! The Aristotle and Longinus of the Cockneys joining the "Crew of mischievous Critics in Edinburgh!"—!!!!!" Vy, this is vonders above vonders!" as Mr Coleridge says-and as all Cockneys must say-compelled by the same eternal and immutable law which obliges them to superadd an R to every word, of which the final letter has the misfortune to be a vowel.] I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.-Twelfth Night. LETTER FROM LEIGH HUNT TO CHRISTOPHER NORTH, ESQ. MY DEAR NORTH, Florence, 1st April, 1824. (WHAT a jauntiness there is in beginning a letter in this way!) We (for we are still so conscious of the critical, that we are apt to slide into these sorts of contradictions to personal identity) began the dedication of "The Story of Rimini" with an address to "My dear Byron," for which a certain base and reviewatory person had an uncongenial fling at us in the Quarterly. This awakened in our spirits a mild surprise; for we thought we were only engrafting upon the passionate, and breathing of our rhymes some natural and hushing gentilities-too fine to be apprehended by the person aforesaid. But we are sure that you, Mr Christopher North, (we find ourselves unconsciously writing these words in a better hand than the rest,) feel too well what is social and off-hand, to be offended at this kind-of-sort-of-kind-of-thing, or to rate us very clerically about it; and though you have often a touch of the minaceous or so about you, one may easily see that it proceeds only from an excess of the jovial, and that there are always handsome laughs ready to sparkle out over the deep and sweet gravity of your face. We like a charming nature of all things; and there is a kind of sufficing and enjoying naturalness about all you write, that convinces us that you love all true and fine humanities, and that you are an admirer of all sorts of green leafinesses in your heart. We have therefore determined (ourselves and some more) to send you certain liberalities of ours, in the shape of articles, which we are sure will give you a lift in the world. Indeed, though we feel that we have been great and calumniated spirits, we are just now in such good humour with every possible thing and body, that we could go rhyme on the grass, or stand upon our heads, or drink tea out of an absolute rain-spout. But we will do none of these nice and graceful things; but sit down at our piano, and put forth our whole gentle strength in composing an elaborate harmony to that handsome and genteel lyric Hey, Johnny, Johnny, With hat just thrown upon ye, &c. -which seems as if it would warble itself into chromatics. Music is always sure to float us into a fine kind-spiritedness; and it is for this reason we are coy of a science which was Mozart's, and is now ours. This will give us a little inspiring to effect what is to follow; and we shall then go into the most agreeable-looking corner of our library, which pierces out upon the youngest green of a garden, powdered all over with flowers, that are perking up their beauty in your face, in spite of you-together with all sorts of jauntinesses in general-and then we will write a deep and lively article for Blackwood's Magazine. What shall be the subject? Let us poke about and see. There is Croly's new Comedy laying on the table, like a petition to the House of Commons; let us notice it, which the House never does the other. The comedy will, no doubt, have been already reviewed by some of the great and pleasant men who write for that oddic and periodic Miscellany; for in this spot of spots ("sitting by the sweet shores Italian," as that most lovely and fearful spirit Barry Cornwall* says) we do not hear as often as we wish of what is going on in the one we have left. But we must try our hand at plumping up an article upon it, notwithstanding. We shall no doubt have something abundant and sweet-natured to say about it, which the readers of that apex and tenderest top of Magazines could not afford to go without. We have no rhymes upon table at present, not having put on our mild singing clothes this morning; but we must try to set some a-flowing before your next Number. We could easily send you a good savage assortment of blank verse; but as to having it said that we could not do anything better and more rimatory, we had as lief be told that we never had an old aunt, or that we were our grandmother. However, to make up for our lack of verse, we have sent our commands to Mr W. Hazlitt, to furnish you with an article before he writes any more for Mr Jeffrey, or Mr Campbell, or The London; and we inclose you a copy of our royal orders to Mr H., which will be like a thump to make him jump, and give a sort of twitch to his memory like a dun, or any other dull stumbling-block to orthodox fancies. We are sure you will print our contributions (as Mr Jeffrey does) without even looking at them, a custom for which we have no light esteem(Black, but such as in esteem, &c.) We have got a Wishing Cap of our own, as good as new, though not quite so good as Fortunatus's: if it were, we would put it on, and wish you could • We have been promised an article-a fragment of a poem-by Barry Cornwall. It is to be called "The Skiey Immortals (those who peopled Greece"), and will be about “Apollar, and Mercurius, and the rest.”—C. N. be brought to our gate some day or other, just as we were sitting at our writing of an evening: And some one of our two maid-servants, with their worsted graces, should conduct you hushing to our library-door, which opening, should shew a kind face reflected in our own graceful and social looks. Our wife should make tea and hot buttered toast, (a thing of taste " not inelegant," as Milton says-especially in July, and under Italian heavens ;) we would then go out and taste the lawns and trees, and returning at night through the green leaves, we would have a booze of gin and water sociable together. We, however, never take more than one weak glass-for we are fonder of nice health and quiet sleeps, than of all sorts of contradictions to both. But we must make an end of this, for fear of sliding off into something which would make us forget our promised article, which would be a dull mistake: So, to finish our letter, pleasantly and grandly, as we like to do everything, we add only our sign manual. (COPY OF HIS MAJESTY'S LETTER TO MR HAZLITT.) WE, Leigh the First, Autocrat of all the Cockneys, command our trusty and well-beloved cousin and counsellor, William Hazlitt, Gentleman of the Press, &c. &c. &c., to furnish forthwith, in virtue of his allegiance, an article for Blackwood's Magazine-in which there shall be nothing taken out of the Edinburgh Review, or other Periodicals for which the said William Hazlitt scribbleth, and in which there shall be as little as may be possible to the Gentleman of the Press aforesaid, about "candied coats of the auricula,”—“ a fine paste of poetic diction encrusting" something or another "clear waters, dews, moonlit bowers, Sally L-," &c. &c. As witness our hand. LIUNTO, Imperatore e Re di Cocagna. PART OF AN ARTICLE BY LEIGH HUNT. (Addressed to C. North, Esq.) We are always unwilling to speak of ourselves: but as your readers will otherwise see no reason upon table for the delay of our article promised on the First of April, we are obliged to afflict them by saying, that we have had for the last fortnight an aggravating (as the old women say) toothache, in the fourth tooth of our critical under-jaw. The said toothache has not only shut us out from such in-door amusements as theatres and books, but even from relishing as finely and deeply as we do at other times the green and glad world without them, which is invidious. We are not even yet quite as we should be, and are afraid that instead of saying natural and lively things, as usual, we máy slide into a melancholy hilarity, amounting to the ponderous. How ever, as everybody told us, that folks would be impatient to know what those at the top of the critical in these matters thought of the new comedy, we contrived to fortify ourselves with flannel and fortitude, (things not to be lightly praised,) and sat down to our desk. The evening was most bird-like and sparkling-and was just such one as we once described in a distich of our own, written long before a sense of wars and debts had taken place in our minds of all sorts of amenities and merry graces The climbing trees were sleeping in that colour Which richly trembles out crisp-hair'd What a contrast there is now to those days when we used to go to town of an evening to see plays, and write our Theatrical Examiner! Oh, the sweet morning-time of these evenings! If the wind was now and then thundering without doors, we had an inside place, and could enjoy it ; and thinking of all sorts of natural pieties, we used to get snugly into the thea tre, which to us had always a frank and agreeable-looking feel about it. There is nothing that draws us to such a fine and true humanity, as finding ourselves together at the theatre. In the original MS. wartue. |