The ghost, too, is one of the most solemn and affecting that was ever evoked from the dreary land of spirits; and so strikingly are its occasional appearances brought about, as to make us regret that in her former works the gifted authoress should have seemingly disdained the agency of the supernatural world. To say nothing of the exceeding interest of the tale, "Gaston" (if only for the poetical grandeur of the being who so awfully "revisits the glimpses of the moon") is entitled to assume a higher rank in romantic fiction than any other which Mrs. Radcliffe has produced. Some of the late German romances, particularly the "Sintram" of La Motte Fouqué, are also exceptions to Sir Walter's assertion. "It cannot, however, be denied," proceeds Sir Walter in another part of his remarks, "that the character of the supernatural machinery in The Castle of Otranto is liable to objections. Its action and interference is rather too frequent, and presses too hard and constantly upon the same feelings in the reader's mind, to the hazard of diminishing the elasticity of the spring upon which it should operate. The fund of fearful sympathy which can be afforded by a modern reader to a tale of wonder is much diminished by the present habits of life and modes of edu cation. Our ancestors could wonder and thrill through all the mazes of an interminable metrical romance of fairy land, and of an enchantment, the work perhaps of some Prevailing poet, whose undoubting mind But our habits and feelings and belief are different, and a transient, though vivid, impression is all that can be excited by a tale of wonder even in the most fanciful mind of the present day. By the too frequent recurrence of his prodigies, Mr. Walpole ran, perhaps, his greatest risk of awakening la raison froide, that cold common sense,' which he justly deemed the greatest enemy of the effect which he hoped to produce. It may be added, also, that the supernatural occurrences of The Castle of Otranto are brought forward into too strong daylight, and marked by an over degree of distinctness and accuracy of outline. mysterious obscurity seems congenial at least, if not essen A tial, to our ideas of disembodied spirits; and the gigantic limbs of the ghost of Alphonso, as described by the terrified domestics, are somewhat too distinct and corporeal to produce the feelings which their appearance is intended to excite. This fault, however, if it be one, is more than compensated by the high merit of many of the marvellous incidents in the romance. The descent of the picture of Manfred's ancestor, although it borders on extravagance, is finely introduced, and interrupts an interesting dialogue with striking effect. We have heard it observed, that the animated figure should rather have been a statue than a picture. We greatly doubt the justice of the criticism. The advantage of the colouring induces us decidedly to prefer Mr. Walpole's fiction to the proposed substitute. There are few who have not felt, at some period of their childhood, a sort of terror from the manner in which the eye of an ancient portrait appears to fix that of the spectator from every point of view." The colouring, We differ here from the great critic. instead of increasing the effect of such an apparition, would evidently diminish its ghastliness, and so far render it less impressive. The ghost, in the old story of Don Juan, is an animated monumental effigy. The idea of such an agent is absurd enough; but it may safely be asserted, that every one who has read the legend of the Spanish libertine, and every one who has heard the awful music by which the avenger's advent is announced in Mozart's opera, has felt his heart thrill at that phantom of stone. One of the most fearful conceptions that ever issued from the hypochondriacal mind of Cowper the poet is that where, describing his own profound and dreary melancholy, he says that any one, on seeing him pace in listless abstraction about his garden, might think that he beheld a Statue walk."' The power of this gloomy image is obviously derived from the whiteness of the marble figure so brought before the imagination. Colour would at once dissipate the spell. "It is, perhaps," continues Sir Walter, "hypercritical to remark, (what, however, Walpole of all authors might have been expected to attend to,) that the time assigned to the action, being about the eleventh century, is rather too early for the introduction of a full-length por trait. The apparition of the skeleton hermit to the prince of Vicenza was long accounted a master-piece of the horrible; but of late the valley of Jehosophat could hardly supply the dry bones necessary for the exhibition of similar spectres, so that injudicious and repeated imitation has, in some degree, injured the effect of its original model. What is more striking in The Castle of Otranto is the manner in which the various prodigious appearances, bearing each upon the other, and all upon the accomplishment of the ancient prophecy, denouncing the ruin of the house of Manfred, gradually prepare us for the grand catastrophe. The moonlight vision of Alphonso dilated to immense magnitude, the astonished group of spectators in the front, and the shattered ruins of the castle in the back-ground, are briefly and sublimely described. We know no passage of similar merit, unless it be the apparition of Fadzean, or Faudoun, in an ancient Scottish poem. "That part of the romance which depends upon human feelings and agency is conducted with the dramatic talent which afterwards was so conspicuous in The Mysterious Mother. The persons are indeed rather generic than individual; but this was in a degree necessary to a plan, calculated rather to exhibit a general view of society and manners during the times which the author's imagination loved to contemplate, than the more minute shades and discriminating points of particular characters. But the actors in the romance are strikingly drawn, with bold outlines becoming the age and nature of the story. Feudal tyranny was, perhaps, never better exemplified than in the character of Manfred. He has the courage, the art, the duplicity, the ambition of a barbarous chieftain of the dark ages, yet with touches of remorse and natural feeling, which preserve some sympathy for him when his pride is quelled, and his race extinguished. The pious monk, and the patient Hippolita, are well contrasted with this selfish and tyrannical prince. Theodore is the juvenile hero of a romantic tale, and Matilda has more interesting sweetness than usually belongs to its heroine. As the character of Isabella is studiously kept down, in order to relieve that of the daughter of Manfred, few readers are pleased with the concluding insinuation, that she became at length the bride of Theodore. This is in some degree a departure from the rules of chivalry, and, however natural an occurrence in common life, rather injures the magic illusions of romance. In other respects, making allowance for the extraordinary incidents of a dark and tempestuous age, the story, so far as within the course of natural events, is happily detailed, its progress is uniform, its events interesting and well combined, and the conclusion grand, tragical, and affecting." PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. THE following work was found in the library of an ancient Catholic family in the north of England. It was printed at Naples, in the black letter, in the year 1529. How much sooner it was written does not appear. The principal incidents are such as were believed in the darkest ages of Christianity; but the language and conduct have nothing that savours of barbarism. The style is the purest Italian. If the story was written near the time when it is supposed to have happened, it must have been between 1095, the era of the first crusade, and 1243, the date of the last, or not long afterwards. There is no other circumstance in the work, that can lead us to guess at the period in which the scene is laid; the names of the actors are evidently fictitious, and probably disguised on purpose; yet the Spanish names of the domestics seem to indicate, that this work was not composed until the establishment of the Arragonian kings in Naples had made Spanish appellations familiar in that country. The beauty of the diction, and the zeal of the author, (moderated, however, by singular judgment,) concur to make me think that the date of the composition was little antecedent to that of the impression. Letters were then in the most flourishing state in Italy, and contributed to dispel the empire of superstition, at that time so forciby attacked by the reformers. It is not unlikely that an artful priest might endeavour to turn their own arms on the innovators; and might avail himself of |
