his superlative excellence by our English critics. To resume: We will first cite a few lines spoken by Valence, who brings a petition from the starving people of Cleves to the Duchess, and is informed that it is her birthday, therefore, no time for business. Valence replies: "I know that the Great, For Pleasure born, should still be on the watch To exclude Pleasure, when a Duty offers; Even as the Lowly too, for duty born, May ever snatch a Pleasure if in reach :Both will have plenty of their birthright, Sir." An example of the aptness and beauty of the epithets Mr. Browning employs, may be discovered in these simple lines, addressed by the Duchess to Valence, when he appears as the spokesman of Cleves' miseries; and she unsuspectingly says, “And you, sir, are from Cleves ?-How fresh in mind Say, this life I lead now, differs from the common life Finely is Berthold afterward described by Valence, who thus speaks to Colombe : "In that large eye there seem'd a latent pride, I wish, he less had bent that brow to smile, From rudeness, violence, you rest secure : The scene betwixt Valence and Colombe, at the end of the fourth act, is one of the most exquisite in any language: to be appreciated, it must be read from beginning to end, and then only in connection with the rest of the play. We will only cite besides, Berthold's speech to Colombe, when he demands her hand. She has asked whether he could wed her, if she did not yield her heart. He replies, "When have I made pretension to your heart? His last words, too, after Colombe has resigned the crown and plighted her faith to Valence, are very admirable; so admirable, that we must add them : Lady, well rewarded!-Sir, as well deserved!- I do admire you! All is for the best.- We must leave "Colombe's Birthday,' though we could find in our hearts to devote many more pages to this Play. It is likely to be an especial favorite with lady-readers, though the gravest men also may find much in it to command their admiration and respect. Perhaps its effects are here and there a little forced; but nothing is perfect, and "Colombe's Birthday" as nearly approaches perfection as any modern dramatic work we are acquainted with; even as Grillparzer's master-pieces, which a little. man like Carlyle has presumed to speak of as the productions of a playwright. We have now arrived at the most pathetic, and in many respects the most beautiful, but also the most painful, perhaps, of all Mr. Browning's dramas; we allude to the domestic tragedy of " A Blot in the 'Scutcheon." It is not free, we fear, from morbid and even evil tendencies. The hero and heroine of the piece, both supposed to be very young and noble in their characters, have "fallen, fallen, fallen, from their high estate:" the lover's desire (his name is Earl Mertoun) is to make the only reparation in his power, and wed the lady. What is most objectionable is, that there is scarcely supposed to have been any criminality, real "Mildred-here's a line(Don't lean on me !-I'll English it for you) Love conquers all things.'- What love conquers What love should you esteem-best love? them? MILDRED. True love. TRESHAM. I mean, and should have said, whose love is best innocence of heart and mind being the | afraid to come to the point, unwilling to prevailing characteristic of either and both believe the possibility of her guilt,of the offenders. It is true, that they are most grievously punished; that after suffering all the pangs of remorse, they are doomed to an early death: still the sympathy created for them may be dangerous in its effects, and the halo cast around them may mislead. Yet there is so much of moral, and even religious beauty in this drama, that we know not how to condemn it. The lovers already alluded to, Mildred and Earl Mertoun, are charmingly depicted; but Thorold, Lord Tresham, Mildred's brother, is the real hero of the play, and in him, perhaps, the interest centres. He is the noblest of English noblemen: his only fault is too great pride. Guendolen, his cousin, thus describes him: she is speaking to Mildred : Of all that love, or that profess to love? TRESHAM. Mildred, I do believe, a brother's love Freedom from earthliness.-You'll never hope your Is felt; there's growing sympathy of tastes, teem -Much head these make against the New-comer! Her soul, that is, the sister's soul!- "Twas winter yesterday: now all is warmth, I think, such love, (apart from yours and mine,) We shall tell no more of this sad tale, and cite no more passages from it, referring our readers to the original drama, where they may discover "through the troubled surface, as Tresham subsequently says, "A depth of purity immovable." Guendolen is very gracefully depicted. The next Tragedy, "The Return of the Druses," is not one of our special fovorites. Mr. Browning's main defects, a want of clearness, and a tendency to sacrifice truth to effect, are very conspicuous in it. The hero Djabal, as we have already said, wishes to gain a noble end by base means, for which he is rightly punished. Our only sympathy throughout (with the exception of a slight regard for Khalil, Anael's, the heroine's, brother) is with Loys de Dreux, a KnightNovice of the Hospitallers, duped by Djabal, and bent on saving the Druses, without the slightest suspicion of their intended conspiracy against his order. Nothing can be finer and more effective in its way than the scene in which he finally learns the truth from the traitor Djabal's lips, and thus acts This is undoubtedly sufficiently spirited. We would not be misunderstood: there is much that is extremely beautiful in this Tragedy also, and it is only by comparison with Mr. Browning's other creations that we are induced or enabled to disparage it. The stirring interest maintained throughout, the concentration of the action within a few hours, the various individualities so forcibly and dramatically sustained, are worthy of all praise. There is some beautiful poetry placed in the lips of Khalil and Anael. The characters of the Order's Prefect and the Nuncio, both specimens of thorough villany, are admirably conceived and embodied. On the other hand, the motives in various instances are not as clear as might be desired. Djabal is decidedly ambiguous: he does not seem to know himself whether he loves or not; and though this may be said to be a part of his character, it is certainly not comfortable. Anael's motives, too, are throughout only indicated, and not sufficiently or clearly indi cated; her intention of slaying the Prefect would never be guessed by the vast majority of readers. We do not like alterations in published works; but this play might certainly be rendered far superior to what it is. We now come to a very great work, one of Mr. Browning's greatest, indeed, the "Tragedy," or rather the dramatic Poem, of "Luria." In this, Genius is shown in conflict with obstinate mediocrity which will not believe in it, which will persist in attributing all manner of unnatural motives to its every action, and which finally accomplishes its ruin. Another view of this piece would present to us the contrast betwixt Luria, the impulsive half-savage Moor, and the comparatively Northern Machiavelian prudent Florentines, betwixt impulse in fact and worldly wisdom. Regard it as we will, "Luria" is a great work, and deserving of far other notice than we can bestow upon it here. There are some strained effects in it, some striking improbabilities, and there is a final suicide (of which the poetic effect is great), which we cannot admire from a moral or religious point of view. We can only hope that "Luria" was not a Christian; for then the deed of ignorance might be forgiven. It is certain that this excuse would not have availed poor Thorold. To resume: One unnatural circumstance we may not pass without direct censure. Luria, it must be observed, is the General of the Florentine army against the Pisans; Braccio, his great common-sense worldly adversary, is the Commissary of the Republic in the camp. Now a certain Florentine lady, called Domizia, is also there: we are not at all informed for what expressed purpose. We learn, indeed, that Braccio has had her placed there to entrap Luria; and that her secret wish is to lead Luria to rebellion against Florence, which she hopes to destroy through him; but all this does not bring us a step nearer any avowed motive for her presence, which is indeed wholly wanting. This deficiency greatly injures the effect of the part she takes in the play, and tends to give an unreality to the whole. Here, too, an argument seems needful. At all events, no one, we should say, would clearly understand the work, on his first perusal of it. But we must not pause for further comments. Our readers will thank us more for a few extracts. Luria's character is admirably conveyed in a speech which he makes to Braccio and Domizia in the first act :— "I wonder, do you guess, why I delay, Involuntarily, the final blow, As long as possible ?-Peace follows it!-- The walls are peopled by the painter's brush; -But Luria,-where will then be Luria's place?" Tiburzio expresses his admiration and goes. The following soliloquy of Luria's is so grand, and so characteristic of our author, that we cannot find in our heart to omit or even to shorten it: 'My heart will have it, he speaks true! My Beats close to this Tiburzio as a friend. Oh, life, the long mutation! Is it so ? Nor age's wisdom in its turn find strength; The unaffected humility and candor of "There stands a wall But we must not keep Tiburzio waiting. We may return later to Husain. The Pisan General comes. He remains alone with Luria, he proffers him the proof of Florentine treachery, and conjures him to open the intercepted missive, and act thereon, as he may feel inclined. Luria replies at last: "And act on what I read? What act were fit? ... You do not wish to find yourself alone. mouth, Domizia's eyes reject the searcher;—yes: Alas, poor Luria, he is deceived. But we cannot directly pursue the narrative. He remains true to Florence; he fights and wins for her; then learns his intended doom. The adoring army is at his beck and call, and the "There lie beneath thee thine own multitudes- What would the world be worth? Whose love HUSAIN. king! I saw. Then, hold thy course, my The years return.-Let thy heart have its way!” And, again, further on :— ROBERT BROWNING'S POEMS. [Dec. "Oh, friend, oh, lord,—for me, Thy foot, that glows, when in the heart fresh blood he is in Luitolfo's house, with Eulalia, the And, finally, "Both armies against Florence! Take revenge! Wide, deep,-to live upon in feeling now, And after, in remembrance, year by year, And, with the dear conviction, die at last!— She lies now at thy pleasure :—pleasure have!" Luria, however, resists this and all other temptations. His only vengeance on Florence is to destroy himself by poison, from love for her, lest she should incur the disgrace of his punishment :-before his death, his true greatness is acknowledged by one after the other of those Florentines who have been leagued against him: finally, even the worldly-wise Braccio bows down before the purity of Genius. But it is all too late--he dies! One more passage we must cite from one of Luria's later speeches: "My own East! How nearer God we were! He glows above Is felt there; now it is, as it was then :- Whose maker is elsewhere at other work! fo, who is one of these. The Provost, who governs Faenza under the Pope, has not improperly banished this very odious fellow: latter's betrothed, whilst the honest, comparatively conservative friend, has gone to interhimself in the mean time with abusing Luicede for him with the Provost. He amuses tolfo, whom he hates on account of his happy, genial nature, which contrasts with his own currish temperament. He derides what he calls his friend's "wise passiveness," and says most characteristically of himself:"True, I thank God, I ever said 'you sin,' When a man did sin: if I could not say it, I glared it at him; if I could not glare it, pray'd against him. Then, my part seem'd over. God's may begin yet: so it will, I trust.” I up a little additional misery on the score of Not contented with this, Chiappino gets his being madly in love with Eulalia, though he has never mentioned it: oh, no! he loved too deeply for that. Talking was all very well for Luitolfo, with his "slight, free, loose, and incapacious soul." The fellow proceeds a long time in this strain. He is interrupted by Luitolfo's arrival, who, maddened by the Provost's refusal to spare his worthless friend, had actually come to blows with him, and left him for dead of course he is very remorseful for this deed. Chiappino bright ens up or sing How natural to sing now!" ... To this twaddle Eulalia very finely responds : and resolves to act the martyr. Luitolfo shall fly in his stead. He will remain, and accept the penalty of this heroic deed. Luitolfo, half deadened by horror, goes. The And now we pass on to the last of Mr. vain-glorious heroism, which must be prating, mob are heard approaching. Chiappino's Browning's longer works, socially and politis admirably conveyed :-ically, perhaps, the most important of them all, entitled "The Soul's Tragedy," a wild species of Drama, the design and execution of which are thoroughly after our own heart. It is written for the purpose of flaying alive (if we may so express ourselves) certain morbid restless " byronizers" and troublesome democrats to be found in all countries in this our age. The hero, the representative of this class, called Chiappino, is a citizen of the Italian town Faenza, which is under papal domination. No matter, however, what the government may be, Chiappino is one of those who will always be found on the side of opposition (unless, indeed, they have secured the loaves and fishes for themselves); oud, noisy, turbulent, a mischief-maker by profession. Nevertheless, some good men are taken in by his high-sounding liberalism, and our Chiappino has a friend called Luitol Hush, and pray! "If they would drag one to the market-place, talking.' |