I will now pass on to the other plays, having left myself but small space in which to speak of them. The first of these, in point of time, is "Edwin the Fair," and that did not appear for some seven or eight years after "Van Artevelde." It is not altogether satisfactory as coming from such a poet as Henry Taylor. It has the great merit of telling its story very clearly, a merit which Mr. Taylor never misses. And it has that verisimilitude of which I have before spoken. The characters and incidents, as they are drawn and told, make us feel that such probably were the persons and such the course of events in the time of which the poet speaks. But the play, as a whole, leaves no strong impress on the mind of the reader. It is read with pleasure, with the double pleasure arising from poetry and historic story,-but there is no personage that strikes the senses with power and leaves his picture clearly behind him. Dunstan, the saint and tyrant of the time, who did the king to death, is intended for such a part; but by some weakness the aim is missed, and Dunstan is not a great poetical sucLeolf is probably the best character in the play; but even Leolf does not leave much with the reader. And the women of the play are weak. We expect something from the intriguing Emma, but that something we miss at last. "Isaac Comnenus" is very much better, and chiefly for this reason,-that the character of Comnenus is drawn with a steady hand, and is cut powerfully, as it were, out of the marble. It is the story of the overthrow of one of the families who for a while held the Eastern Empire, and of the success of another, and has not, as such, that interest with us which the chroniclers of Van Artevelde and of Dunstan possess. And indeed, Isaac Comnenus, who is the hero here, was not, I think, very great in history. But "St. Clement's Eve" is the last, and there is a majesty about the man as he is by much the latest, of Mr. Taylor's plays, here drawn, and a fixed sobriety of heart and I think that in merit it should be and purpose, that force us to acknowl-placed next to "Van Artevelde." There edge the creation to be great. And there is in its plot, or rather in its name, this is wit in the play; the exorcist is very fault,-that the special period of St. witty. And the women, though their parts are comparatively small, leave their impress behind them. Theodora, with her injured love and guilty heart, is not, perhaps, as powerful as Mr. Taylor might

have made her; but Anna Comnena is a gentle, loving woman, whom the reader will remember. The strength of the play, however, lies in the character of Isaac Comnenus. When he is wandering

among the tombs and comes upon the grave of Irene, the poet misses, but only misses, to be as great as he has ever been.

Leviore plectro is the legend with which Mr. Taylor graces his comedy called a "Sicilian Summer;" and in a preface to the volume containing it,—which should rather have been inserted as a preface to the comedy itself, he tells us that he has passed the age in which tragedy can be endured, and that he now writes for persons who, like himself, do not desire to be harrowed. But Mr. Taylor would never have achieved the highest order of success,-such fame as undoubtedly will be his sooner or later,—as a writer of comedies. The "Sicilian Summer" is a pretty play, well told, always readable, giving assurance that it has come from a poet's mint; but it leaves no mark behind. In this it is like so many of the plays of those old English dramatists whom we are in the habit of extolling, but which, the plays themselves,-leave no impress on us. How many ordinary readers of English literature will undertake to say that they remember the characters and plots of the "Loyal Subject" and the "Mad Lover?" And yet who is there that does not presume himself to be acquainted with the works of Beaumont and Fletcher? But of the characters and plots of "As You Like It" and "The Merchant of Venice" every ordinary reader has a clearly defined knowledge. The "Sicilian Summer" will be with us as are the " Loyal Subject" and the "Mad Lover;" but for "Van Artevelde" I venture to foretell the other fate.

cess.

Clement's Eve has very little to do with the story. There is a legend about St. Clement's Eve, and of the Fleur de Lys as emblematic of the French throne, with which the reader is made acquainted;

but the legend has no palpable connection | ever and again the reader feels that some with the story, and the play, had it been old well-loved note is sounding in his ear; written two hundred years ago, would and then, as he listens, the burden of the probably have been called "Cures for a tune comes to him completed. It is only King's Malady." But such names are just to say that the tunes so repeated are now out of vogue. The chief charm of always of the most approved melody. As the play is in the beautiful humanity and an instance of this, I may quote the manstruggling purity of the character of ner in which Montarges works upon the Iolande. At the end of a paper so long Duke of Burgundy, among the pictures as this I may not venture to quote fur- of the Duke of Orleans, in which scene ther; but it is not from lack of matter, it is impossible to escape a reminiscence er from the absence of temptation, that of Iago. And it is just to mention the I abstain. The story of Iolande is won- single accusation to which, as far as I can derfully graceful, and, if original with judge, Mr. Taylor lays himself open in Mr. Taylor, contains strong evidence of the construction of his words. He somethe fertility of his imagination. It has times allows himself to use a terribly been declared from some priest's oracle inflated epithet. "God's mandaments that a pure virgin, who shall have dipped eterne;" "the plangent wave;" "the her finger in the sacred contents of a cer- vegetable dead;" and the " gibbous tain vial, and shall lay it then on the moon," cause us, as we read, some slight king's head, shall work the king's cure. passing uneasiness. Now and again, too, Iolande consents to try, doubting some- a line is rough and unmusical,-will have thing as to her own purity, because she has itself absolutely scanned before we can loved where her love could not be purely let it pass us; but his offences in this given. She had loved a man whose wife direction are so unfrequent that mine is was living, but had learned to love him perhaps greater to mention them. while she thought him unmarried. could not quench her love,-but she could separate herself from the man. With so much purity, with a feminine purity, which the reader knows to be perfect, she attemps her task. The king is not cured. That there was nothing in the vial, or even in the purity, to work such a cure, we of course know; but Iolande, when her effort failed, gave all the blame to herself. Her love for the man had still been warm within her bosom,-and therefore all her faith had been in vain. It is a pretty story, and prettily told; but that levius plectrum, of which our poet had told us, when declaring, some ten years earlier, that he cared no longer to harrow or be harrowed by tragedy, had been altogether laid aside when St. Clement's Eve was written. Of all Mr. Taylor's dramas, this last is the most tragic.

She

Mr. Taylor is subject to a propensity which I hardly know whether I should describe as a fault or a virtue. In a reader it is a great and a comforting virtue; but in a writer it may lead to some danger. He makes the ideas and images of other men, of other great men,-so completely his own by the strength of his appreciation, that he reproduces them unconsciously. In studying his works,

At last I have done; and I feel that I owe some apology to my readers for going back, in this our new Review, to works which have been so long before the public as these plays of Mr. Taylor. My apology is this,-that I have loved them so long and well, that I can not allow this opportunity of speaking of them in good company to pass by me. They are well known, but not yet well known up to the measure of their deserts. That they will reach the fame due to them I do not in the least doubt; but I would hurry on such justice if it might at all be in my power to do so.

Temple Bar.

HEART AND STATE.

THE question of Church and State is one that has occupied ecclesiastical and political historians for a very long period. There is another domain of history which has not been so well traversed,-that of heart and state, illustrations of social life and sentiments,-for which facilities are now profusely given in the Calendars of State-papers, as well as in the Chronicles and Memorials of Great Britain and Ireland,

te hamily, and the only one who Case” When Elizabeth told

sce ever wedded with a subject, evitham, that potential “i” vei, as the verbiage of her - wont more equal suitors, to er ground and justification for caem. When she made Leicester the Garter, an-1, as he knelt er, ut her hand between his ruff ees and nickled him into inconmonter, me filowed the natuer mind. If she excited im. I was 10t that he might ter, but that vie might draw

ader brother, Lre of Vrves, of that decentre poet winets, mich begine efter if he ainosLoirs and of ders vio married ng that a 4 len seintei beLerma Buntess of

Lar at his bunelis" Di

les I I's "Deelings De let sang his le Now this St Bert Dud**te aris son i te row of team of die semory Lord trefeld, At this use e-was, at erveen Dry vide the twat eight years of mi thus TE DU TOJ KArm "sad, tary was his claim set up. But Leicesas mi er pæ agits de ter, wo doved him well enou” to leave um teged "lekedete, tim Kenworth, especially terrives his new stamer.is;" and that the won, in the will, as "bas. The ae were of the marriage of young flow in after years revertheless, una - Levice Kuhye--awra asserted again and again is timacy; o the queen by Sumier, the and that he nearly sucesin estabavoy-did wa so utterly de- lishing it, is proved from it which Lester's influence with the sov- arose from a proceeding :ć ze wilow of some writers have imagined. Leicester (Lettice Knollys 12 ir ne be ever believed that she would came the wife of Sir Christopher Bount Dudley, whose great On her application, the site Sir Robert cen a carpenter, and, as Dudley (who had been knighted for his aid to every one but bravery by Elizabeth) was removed to en, "the only honest the Star-Chamber, which it no sooner

This letter did its intended office. Balow, my babe, lie still and sleep; It grieves me sair to see thee weep. Within a week the queen addressed a reply to him, which unfortunately has If Leicester afforded cause for unfavor- perished. To judge from Leicester's able censure, his influence with the queen delicate allusion to its contents it would was undoubtedly the cause of much pay perusal. He has received, he says, scandal against Queen Elizabeth. There in secret, the news that pleaseth him were not wanting men who officiously most. His next joy is that she will visit carried such scandal to his ears. One the camp: "Good sweet queen!" The Thomas Scot, by profession a preacher, lodging prepared for her is "a proper,