is poem, by a series of lucky hits and
incalculable chances, certainly manages matters in a very economical way
for his judgment and invention, and will probably be found to have
consulted his own ease, rather than the delight of his readers. Now,
the whole story of Marmion seems to us to turn upon a tissue of such
incredible accidents. In the first place, it was totally beyond all
calculation, that Marmion and De Wilton should meet, by pure chance, at
Norham, on the only night which either of them could spend in that
fortress. In the next place, it is almost totally incredible that the
former should not recognize his antient rival and antagonist, merely
because he had assumed a palmer's habit, and lost a little flesh and
colour in his travels. He appears unhooded, and walks and speaks before
him; and, as near as we can guess, it could not be more than a year
since they had entered the lists against each other. Constance, at her
death, says she had lived but three years with Marmion; and, it was not
till he tired of her, that he aspired to Clara, or laid plots against De
Wilton. It is equally inconceivable that De Wilton should have taken
upon himself the friendly office of a guide to his arch enemy, and
discharged it quietly and faithfully, without seeking, or apparently
thinking of any opportunity of disclosure or revenge. So far from
meditating anything of the sort, he makes two several efforts to leave
him, when it appears that his services are no longer indispensable. If
his accidental meeting, and continued association with Marmion, be
altogether unnatural, it must appear still more extraordinary, that he
should afterwards meet with the Lady Clare, his adored mistress, and the
Abbess of Whitby, who had in her pocket the written proofs of his
innocence, in consequence of an occurrence equally accidental. These two
ladies, the only two persons in the universe whom it was of any
consequence to him to meet, are captured in their voyage from Holy Isle,
and brought to Edinburgh, by the luckiest accident in the world, the
very day that De Wilton and Marmion make their entry into it. Nay, the
king, without knowing that they are at all of his acquaintance, happens
to appoint them lodgings in the same stair-case, and to make them travel
under his escort! We pass the night combat at Gifford, in which Marmion
knows his opponent by moonlight, though he never could guess at him in
sunshine; and all the inconsistencies of his dila