a sudden paroxysm of madness. The horror of the
act restores his reason; but, with the return of sanity, the dreams and
visions of the artist's nature begin to vanish; the musician sees the
world not through a glass but face to face, and he dies just as the world
is awakening to his music.

The character of Melchior, who inherits his music from his father, and
from his mother his mysticism, is extremely fascinating as a
psychological study. Mr. Wills has made a most artistic use of that
scientific law of heredity which has already strongly influenced the
literature of this century, and to which we owe Dr. Holmes's fantastic
Elsie Venner, Daniel Deronda--that dullest of masterpieces--and the
dreadful Rougon-Macquart family with whose misdeeds M. Zola is never
weary of troubling us.

Blanca, the girl, is a somewhat slight sketch, but then, like Ophelia,
she is merely the occasion of a tragedy and not its heroine. The rest of
the characters are most powerfully drawn and create themselves simply and
swiftly before us as the story proceeds, the method of the practised
dramatist being here of great value.

As regards the style, we notice some accidental assonances of rhyme which
in an unrhymed poem are never pleasing; and the unfinished short line of
five or six syllables, however legitimate on the stage where the actor
himself can make the requisite musical pause, is not a beauty in a blank
verse poem, and is employed by Mr. Wills far too frequently. Still,
taken as a whole, the style has the distinction of noble melody.

There are many passages which, did space permit us, we would like to
quote, but we must content ourselves with saying that in Melchior we find
not merely pretty gems of rich imagery and delicate fancy, but a fine
imaginative treatment of many of the most important modern problems,
notably of the relation of life to art. It is a pleasure to herald a
poem which combines so many elements of strength and beauty.

Melchior. By W. G. Wills, author of Charles I., Olivia, etc., and writer
of Claudian. (Macmillan and Co.)

SHAKESPEARE ON SCENERY

(Dramatic Review, March 14, 1885.)

I have often heard people wonder what Shakespeare would say, could he see
Mr. Irving's production of his Much Ado About Nothing, or Mr. Wilson
Barrett's setting of his Hamlet. Would he take pleasure in the glory of
the scenery and the marvel of the colour? Would he be interested in the
Cathedral of Messina, and t