feel that so dies a hero. The other
_dramatis personae_ pale their ineffectual fires before his central
light.

After a silence of nearly ten years--characteristic of Mr Taylor's
deliberative and disciplined mind--he produced (1842) _Edwin the
Fair_, of whose story the little that was known, he observes, was
romantic enough to have impressed itself on the popular memory--the
tale of _Edwy and Elgiva_ having been current in the nursery long
before it came to be studied as a historical question. In illustrating
this tale he borrows from the bordering reigns 'incidents which were
characteristic of the times,' though some are of opinion, that his
deviation from historical truth has rather impaired than aided the
poetical effect of the drama. With artistic skill, and often with
sustained energy, he develops the career of the 'All-Fair' prince, and
his relation to the monkish struggle of the tenth century; the hostile
intrigues and stormy violence of Dunstan; the loyal tenacity and Saxon
frank-heartedness of Earl Leolf and his allies; the celebrated
coronation-scene, and 'most admired disorder' of the banquet; the
discovery and denunciation of Edwin's secret nuptials; his
imprisonment in the Tower of London; the confusion and dispersion of
his adherents; the ecclesiastical finesse and conjuror-tricks of
Dunstan; the king's rescue and temporary success; the murder of
Elgiva, and Edwin's own death in the essay to avenge her. It is around
Dunstan, the representative of spiritual despotism, that the interest
centres. The character of this 'Saint,' like that of Hildebrand and a
Becket, has been made one of the problems of history. Mr Taylor's
reading of the part is masterly, and we think correct. His Dunstan is
not wholly sane; he believes himself inspired to read the alphabet of
Heaven's stars, and to behold visions beyond the bounds of human
foresight; one of the few to whom, 'and not in mercy, is it given to
read the mixed celestial cypher: not in mercy, save as a penance
merciful in issue.' His mischievous influence over the popular mind is
sealed by the partial and latent degree of his insanity, for 'madness
that doth least declare itself endangers most, and ever most infects
the unsound many.' His great natural powers are tainted by the one
black spot; his youth has been devoted to books, to the study of
chemistry and mechanics; his manhood to observing 'the ways of men and
policies of state' in the court of Edred; 'and wer