Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 001.djvu/499

18 1 f.^] Review. Lalla Rookh. 60S

When we gave our readers an account of the "Veiled Prophet of Khorassan," and "Paradise and the Peri," the romance of Lalla Rookh had just been presented to the public, and some anxiety was naturally felt by the friends and admirers of Mr Moore, respecting its ultimate destiny. For the first time, he had come forward as the author of a long and continuous work; and while they, who saw in his former short compositions convincing and satisfactory evidence that he had the strength and power of a poet, confidently hoped that his oriental romance would entitle him to sit by the side of his loftiest contemporaries, others, again, who had hitherto regarded him in the light of an elegant and graceful versifier merely, were afraid that he had rashly committed himself in too great an undertaking, and anticipated failure, discomfiture, and defeat. On the first appearance, therefore, of this work, there was a kind of doubting, and pausing hesitation and perplexity, in the minds of those readers who think it better to criticise than to admire; and who, instead of yielding to the genial sense of delight which the inspiration of genius awakens, are intent only on the discovery of faults, defects, and imperfections, and ever seeking opportunities of displaying their own acumen and perspicacity. But this wavering uncertainty in the public mind soon gave way to favourable decision; the carping criticism of paltry tastes and limited understandings faded before that burst of admiration with which all enlightened spirits hailed the beauty and magnificence of Lalla Rookh; and it was universally acknowledged throughout Britain, that the star of Moore's genius, which had long been seen shining on the horizon, had now reached its altitude in heaven, and burnt with uneclipsed glory among its surrounding luminaries.

As, however, a two-guinea quarto must have a comparatively slow circulation, it is probable that many of our readers have not yet seen this delightful romance, and will be obliged to us for an analysis of the "Fire Worshippers" and "The Light of the Haram," with such extracts as may enable them to judge for themselves of the poetical genius which they display. They must bear in remembrance the wild and supernatural majesty of the Veiled Prophet—the pomp and magnificence of his array, when waging war against tyranny and superstition—the demoniac and remorseless wickedness of his soul, rendered fierce and savage by the hideous aspect with which nature had cursed him—his scorn, and mockery, and insult, and murder, of all the best hopes, and passions, and aspirations of humanity—his headlong and precipitous career, whether in victory or defeat—his sinful and insane enjoyment of distraction, misery, and blood—and, finally, his last mortal repast, where he sat alone amid the poisoned carcases of his deluded proselytes,—and that fearful plunge into annihilation from the ship wreck of his insatiable ambition, which left on earth only the remembrance of his name and the terror of his guilt. In contrast with this mysterious Personification, they will remember the pure and lofty faith of the heroic Azim in the creed and destiny of the Impostor—his agony on discovering the delusion under which he had cherished such elevating dreams—his silent, and uncomplaining, and rooted despair, when he finds his Zelica the prey of sin and insanity—his sudden apparition, like a War-God, among the triumphant troops of the Caliph—and at last, when his victorious career is closed, his retirement into solitude, and his calm and happy death, a gray-haired man, on the grave of her he had loved, and whose Vision, restored to former innocence and beauty, comes to bless the hour of his dissolution. Powerfully and beautifully drawn as these two Characters are, and impressive when separately considered, it will be felt that the most striking effect is produced by their opposition, and that the picture of wicked ambition, relent-