quays, in which
the bodies of drowned persons were placed for identification.]

CONCLUDING GROUP.

"DRAMATIC IDYLS." "JOCOSERIA."

"DRAMATIC IDYLS."

The Dramatic Idyls form, like the Dramas, a natural group; and though,
unlike these, they might be distributed under various heads, it would
not be desirable to thus disconnect them; for their appearing together
at this late period of Mr. Browning's career, constitutes them a
landmark in it. They each consist of a nucleus of fact--supplied by
history or by romance, as the case may be--and of material, and in most
cases, mental circumstance, which Mr. Browning's fancy has engrafted on
it; and in both their material and their mental aspect they display a
concentrated power, which clearly indicates what I have spoken of as the
"crystallizing" process Mr. Browning's genius has undergone. A
comparison of these poems with "Pauline," "Paracelsus," or even "Pippa
Passes," will be found to justify this assertion.

The Idyls consist of two series, occupying each a volume. The first,
published 1879, contains:--

"Martin Relph."
"Pheidippides."
"Halbert and Hob."
"Ivan Ivanovitch."
"Tray."
"Ned Bratts."

The hero of "MARTIN RELPH" is an old man, whose life is haunted by
something which happened to him when little more than a boy. A girl of
his own village had been falsely convicted of treason, and the guns were
already levelled for her execution, when Martin Relph, who had stolen
round on to some rising ground behind the soldiers and villagers who
witnessed the scene, saw what no one else could see: a man, about a
quarter of mile distant, rushing onwards in staggering haste, and waving
a white object over his head. He knew this was Vincent Parkes, Rosamond
Page's lover, bearing the expected proofs of her innocence. He knew also
that by a shout he might avert her doom. But something paralyzed his
tongue, and the girl fell. The man who would have rescued her but for
delays and obstacles, which no power of his could overcome, was found
dead where Martin Relph had seen him.

The remembrance of these two deaths leaves Martin Relph no rest; for
conscience tells him that his part in them was far worse than it
appeared. It tells him that what struck him dumb at that awful moment
was not, as others said, the simple cowardice of a boy: he loved in
secret the girl whom Vincent Parkes was coming to save; and if _he_ had
saved her, it would ha