in action and re-action with his full command of English, vernacular and literary, produced a dialect which, if not the most graceful that the language has ever known, is perhaps the strongest and most nervous. Little change takes place in the last twenty years, though the tendency to classicism and archaism, strengthened it may be by the work of translation, not unfrequently reappears. In versification the great achievement of Dryden was the alteration of what may be called the balance of the line, causing it to run more quickly and to strike its rhymes with a sharper and less prolonged sound. One obvious means of obtaining this end was, as a matter of course, the isolation of the couplet and the avoidance of overlapping the different lines one upon the other. The effect of this overlapping, by depriving the eye and voice of the expectation of rest at the end of each couplet, is always one of two things. Either the lines are converted into a sort of rhythmic prose, made musical by the rhymes rather than divided by them, or else a considerable pause is invited at the end of each, or of most lines, and the cadence of the whole becomes comparatively slow and languid. Both these forms, as may be seen in the works of Mr. Morris, as well as in the older writers, are excellently suited for narration of some considerable length. They are less well suited for satire, for argument, and for the moral reflections which the age of Dryden loved. He therefore set himself to elaborate the couplet with its sharp point, its quick delivery, and the pistol-like detonation of its rhyme. But there is an obvious objection, or rather there are several obvious objections which present themselves to the couplet. It was natural that to one accustomed to the more varied range of the older rhythm and metre, there might seem to be a danger of the snip-snap monotony into which, as

we know, it did actually fall when it passed out of the hands of its first great practitioners. There might also be a fear that it would not always be possible to compress the sense of a complete clause within the narrow limits of twenty syllables. To meet these difficulties Dryden resorted to three mechanical devices,-the hemistich, the Alexandrine, and the triplet; all three of which could be used indifferently to eke out the space or to give variety of sound. The use of the hemistich, or fragmentary line, appears to have been based partly on the well-known prac tice of Virgil, partly on the necessities of dramatic composition where the unbroken English couplet is to English ears intolerable. In poetry proper the hemistich is anything but pleasing, and Dryden becoming convinced of the fact almost discarded it. The Alexandrine and the triplet he always continued to use, and they are to this day the most obvious characteristics, to a casual observer, of his versification. To the Alexandrine, judiciously used, and limited to its proper acceptation of a verse of twelve syllables, I can see no objection. The metre, though a wellknown English critic has maltreated it of late, is a very fine one; and some of Dryden's own lines are unmatched examples of that " energy divine" which has been attributed to him. In an essay on the Alexandrine in English poetry, which yet remains to be written, and which would be not the least valuable of contributions to poetical criticism, this use of the verse would have to be considered, as well as its regular recurrent employment at the close of the Spenserian stanza, and its continuous use, of which not many poets besides Drayton and Mr. Browning have given us considerable examples. An examination of the Polyolbion and of Fifine at the Fair, side by side, would, I think, reveal capacities somewhat unexpected even in this form

of arrangement. But so far as the occasional Alexandrine is concerned, it is not a hyperbole to say that a number, out of all proportion, of the best lines in English poetry may be found in the closing verses of the Spenserian stave as used by Spenser himself, by Shelley, and by the present Laureate, and in the occasional Alexandrines of Dryden. The only thing to be said against this latter use is, that it demands a very skilful ear and hand to adjust the cadence. So much for the Alexandrine.

For the triplet I must confess myself to be entirely without affection. Except in the very rare cases when its contents come in, in point of sense, as a kind of parenthesis or aside, it seems to me to spoil the metre, if any thing could spoil Dryden's verse. That there was some doubt about it even in the minds of those who used it, may be inferred from the care they generally took to accompany it in print with the bracket indicator, as if to invite the eye to break it gently to the ear. So strong was Dryden's verse, so well able to subdue all forms to its own measure, that in him it mattered but little ; in his followers its drawbacks at once appeared.

A few personal details not already alluded to remain as to Dryden's life at this time. To this period belongs the second and only other considerable series of his letters. They are addressed to Mrs. Steward, a cousin of his, though of a much younger generation. Mrs. Steward was the daughter of Mrs. Creed, the already-mentioned indefatigable decorator of Northamptonshire churches and halls, and she herself was given to the arts of painting and poetry. She had married Mr. Elmes Steward, a mighty sportsman, whose house at Cotterstock still exists by the roadside from Oundle to Peterborough. The correspondence extends over the last eighteen months of the

poet's life, beginning in October, 1698, and not ending till a week or two before his death in the spring of 1700. Mrs. Steward is said to have been about eight-and-twenty at the time, and beautiful. The first letter speaks of a visit soon to be paid to Cotterstock after many invitations, and is rather formal in style. Thenceforward, however, the epistles, sometimes addressed to Mr. Steward (Dryden not infrequently spells it Stewart and Stuart), and sometimes to his wife, are very cordial, and full of thanks for presents of country produce. On one occasion Dryden "intends" that Lady Elizabeth should "taste the plover he had received," an incident upon which, if I were a commentator, I should build a legend of conjugal happiness quite as plausible, and probably quite as well founded, as the legend of conjugal unhappiness which has actually been constructed. Then there are injurious allusions to a certain parson's wife at Tichmarsh, who is "just the contrary" of Mrs. Steward. Marrow puddings are next acknowledged, which it seems were so good that they had quite spoiled Charles Dryden's taste for any other. Then comes that sentence, "Old men are not so insensible of beauty as, it may be, you young ladies think," which was elsewhere translated into eloquent verse, and the same letter describes the writer as passing his time "sometimes with Ovid, sometimes with our old English poet Chaucer." More acknowledgments of presents follow, and then a visit is promised, with the prayer that Mrs. Steward will have some small beer brewed for him without hops, or with a very inconsiderable quantity, because the bitter beer at Tichmarsh had made him very ill. The visit came off in August, 1699, and it is to be hoped that the beer was not bitter. After his return the poet sends, in the pleasant old fashion, a history of his journey back to London,

whither the stage coach took him out of his way, whereby not passing certain friends' houses, he missed "two couple of rabbits, and Mr. Cole's Ribadavia wine," a stirrup cup of the latter being probably intended. In November occurs the famous description of himself as a man who has done his best to improve the language, and especially the poetry," with much literary and political gossip, and occasional complaints of bad health. This letter may. perhaps be quoted as a specimen :

Nov. 7, 1699.

MADAM,- Even your expostulations are pleasing to me; for though they show you angry, yet they are not without many expressions of your kindness; and therefore I am proud to be so chidden. Yet I cannot so farr abandon my own defence, as to confess any idleness or forgetfulness on my part. What has hind'red me from writeing to you, was neither ill health, nor, a worse thing, ingratitude; but a flood of little businesses, which yet are necessary to my subsistance, and of which I hop'd to have given you a good account before this time: but the Court rather speaks kindly of me, than does anything for me, though they promise largely; and perhaps they think I will advance as they go backward, in which they will be much deceiv'd; for I can never go an inch beyond my conscience and my honour. If they will consider me as a man who has done my best to improve the language, and especially the poetry, and will be content with my acquiescence under the present government, and forbearing satire on it, that I can promise, because I can perform it; but I can neither take the oaths, nor forsake my religion : because I know not what church to go to, if I leave the Catholique; they are all so divided amongst themselves in matters of faith necessary to salvation, and yet all assumeing the name of Protestants. May God be pleased to open your eyes, as he has open'd mine! Truth is but one; and they who have once heard of it, can plead no excuse, if they do not embrace it. But these are things too serious for a trifling letter. If you desire to hear anything more of my affairs, the Earl of Dorsett, and