ich assails him with remorse. In the first
place he simply goes to sleep; in the grand finale he resists, like Don
Juan, or, as the saying is, "dies game"--"only this, and nothing
more"--leaving all idea of an end, object, moral, or system, entirely in
the dark. "Manfred" is merely dramatic for the sake of _stage effect_,
and only excellent in impressing us with the artistic skill of the
author. Its key is art for the sake of art, and effect on anybody, no
matter who. Within this limit it is most admirable.

In both the Italian and English poems the one persecuted makes his strong
point of departure from the discovery or knowledge that the persecuted is
not one whom he has injured, but simply a mocking and tormenting sprite.
Thus the former text declares that when he finds he is pursued simply by
Intialo, the shadow, which we may here translate "his own imagination,"
he rallies with a tremendous counter-curse in which far more is meant
than meets the eye. The grand mission of the _magus_ or sorcerer in all
the occult lore of all antiquity, whether he appear as Buddha or any
other man of men, is to conquer all enemies by tremendous power won by
penance or by iron _will_. A favourite means of tormenting the enemy or
fiend is to awaken the conscience of the magician, or, what is the same
thing, to tempt him to sin, as Satan did Christ. But even conscience
loses its power when we feel that the foe is exaggerating our sins, and
only urging them for torment's sake, and especially when these sins are
of a kind which from a _certain_ standpoint or code, are not sins at all.

And here we are brought to a subject so strange and witch-like that it is
difficult to discuss or make clear. It is evident enough in "Manfred"
that the great crime was the hero's forbidden love for his sister
Astarte. This it is which crushes him. But it does not appear from the
Italian (save to those deeply learned in the darker secrets of sorcery)
why or how it is that the one persecuted so suddenly revives and defies
the spirit, turning, as it were, his own power against him. In
explaining this, I do not in the least conjecture, guess, or infer
anything; I give the explanation as it was understood by the narrator,
and as confirmed by other legends and traditions. It is this:

Michelet, in _La Sorciere_, which amid much lunacy or folly contains many
truths and ingenious perceptions, has explained that the witchcraft of
the Middle Ages was a