of immediate action or suffering, which is more properly the dramatic;
but he has all the pathos of sentiment and romance--all that belongs
to distant objects of terror, and uncertain, imaginary distress. His
strength, in like manner, is not strength of will or action, of bone and
muscle, nor is it coarse and palpable--but it assumes a character of
vastness and sublimity seen through the same visionary medium, and
blended with the appalling associations of preternatural agency. We need
only turn, in proof of this, to the Cave of Despair, or the Cave of
Mammon, or to the account of the change of Malbecco into Jealousy. The
following stanzas, in the description of the Cave of Mammon, the grisly
house of Plutus, are unrivalled for the portentous massiness of the
forms, the splendid chiaro-scuro, and shadowy horror.

"That house's form within was rude and strong,
Like an huge cave hewn out of rocky clift,
From whose rough vault the ragged breaches hung,
Embossed with massy gold of glorious gift,
And with rich metal loaded every rift,
That heavy ruin they did seem to threat:
And over them Arachne high did lift
Her cunning web, and spread her subtle net,
Enwrapped in foul smoke, and clouds more black than jet.

Both roof and floor, and walls were all of gold,
But overgrown with dust and old decay, [4]
And hid in darkness that none could behold
The hue thereof: for view of cheerful day
Did never in that house itself display,
But a faint shadow of uncertain light;
Such as a lamp whose life doth fade away;