Tumbling the hollow helmets of the fallen, And shiver'd brands that once had fought with Rome, The voice of days of old and days to be.' It is the end of all things which is thus set before us-the conclusion, not of a single existence, but of a world; a grand melancholy winding-up of human effort, and passive triumph of the older elements, the negations that are ever ready to close over the termination of life. Arthur's attempt to bring light out of darkness, and harmony out of chaos, his reign of truth among the embodied falsehoods, his fond imagination of spotless love and loyalty, have all been vanquished by the old perennial forms of error. But he himself is not vanquished. When he gives up his sword by the hands of Bedivene to the unseen powers who trusted him with that matchless weapon, he gives it up spotless, stained by no cruelty-a blade which has never stricken treacherous blow, or failed when wrong was to be redressed. His work is destroyed, but Arthur is not destroyedfor none but himself could ruin the stainless knight and perfect man. Wounded to death both in body and in heart, he is placed in that black barge, dark as a funeral scarf from stem 'to stern,' and glides away over the level lake under the long 'glories of the winter moon.' Whither? To be king among the dead, as his last follower marvels in woe and wonder, or to come again? In all that has been said we have made no attempt to select either from the new volume or from the Idylls of the King' any of those finer passages which catch the general fancy, and become the current coin of criticism. Mr. Tennyson has been too much treated in this fragmentary manner, and our aim has been rather to set before the reader the great drama which he has told in his own individual fashion, but which is not less a tragedy than Hamlet or Lear, with one great leading interest and plan of action. The superficial aspect of a group of independent narratives which it has pleased the poet to give to his most important work, especially demands this leisurely and respectful study to grasp the general plan of the poem. The more it is studied the more manifest it will be that every part of it has been composed with careful reference to the leading conception, and that those individual portions which throw but broken lights when taken by themselves, become full of force and significance when considered in their relation to the rest. Nothing more grand or perfect exists in modern poetry than the plan of this tragedy. Mr. Tennyson found a certain shadow of Arthur made ready to his hand, and he found almost complete the stories of Enid and Elaine and Vivien, and the master-tale of Lancelot and Guinevere. But into these antique bodies he has breathed a soul of meaning which they did not possess by right of nature. He has given to Arthur's enterprise a grandeur and conscious elevation of purpose, such as the old chroniclers knew not of; and he has woven into such solemnity of fate as no medieval writer would have conceived, the too common tale of the unfaithful wife. We cannot remember any parallel in modern poetry to the wonderful moral meaning of the drama. The utter confusion which one secret sin introduces into a court and kingdom, and the effect of its unseen unsuspected influence upon places and persons not immediately connected with it; its subtle workings upon the common mind, its still more subtle invisible draining of all strength and efficacy out of the most heroic exertions; its own damning force and vigour, flourishing where everything else fades, have never been more forcibly, more pitilessly represented; and yet we do not hate even the immediate culprits. Lancelot is no less a hero, and a noble one, because his ill-doing has so awful a power and punishment; and even Guinevere rises to a certain grandeur when the finger of fate touches her. In the wild chaos of her false position, in her petulance and passion, her gusts of sudden jealousy and causeless suspicion, we cannot altogether withdraw our regard from the guilty Queen. Yet what havoc, what destruction her sin works! not Helen, fatal as was her beauty, proved more baleful. Helen destroyed only Troy, but Guinevere is the destroyer of a Christian enterprise, burying in dismay and downfal one of the grandest attempts ever made for the reconstruction of a spiritual kingdom. Her character is, perhaps, the most slightly drawn in the whole poem; yet how she rises before us in her splendid beauty-wilful, impetuous, self-indulgent-yet full of courtesy and grace, and when she pleases of self-control also; not without a sense in her of the greatness of the work which she is marring; not without a bitter consciousness of her secret humiliation and the place she has lost; but yet too proud, too passionate, too resolute to yield even to her own compunctions. And opposite to her in this guilty grandeur stands the lily maid, all simple and guileless, most sweet ideal of absolute and visionary youth. Elaine, who will have all or nothing, whom no compromise will satisfy; whose heart flies to the highest point her virgin eyes have ever lighted on, and rests there, come death or life, with a simplicity of devotion which is beyond all force of reason, is the very embodiment of the pure, brave, innocent maiden, without a thought of evil. Shamefaced and shy in her sweetness of youth, she yet gives her heart, and avows it with a tragic simple frankness which no woman yet has ever blamed her with. She is as perfect, as true, as tenderly visionary and real as Miranda or Desdemona. What she wants in grandeur she makes up in sweetThese two women, the guilty Queen and the spotless maiden, stand out upon the full and rich background with a reality which, more than any sweet combinations of words, more than any perfection of musical utterance, prove their creator a true poet. ness. Still more fully is this the case in respect to Lancelot. Arthur is more vague, for reasons which have been already specified; and we are willing to allow that in Arthur is the weak point of the poem. His is not a character which can be brought before us by a few bold touches like that of Guinevere; he is too much described, too much commended through the whole course of the drama; and there is a certain lack of sympathy in his goodness which repels us. We cannot believe it possible that any mind of the noblest type could have gone on so long unmoved by any sense of the secret pollution by his side. He must have felt it however he shut his heart against suspicion; yet he does not appear to have felt it; a fact which makes us a little impatient of him till despair approaches him with her chill touch, and the man grows great in her ghastly illumination. But only a great poet could have drawn so noble a conception as that of Lancelot from the homely indications of the romancers, the simple frank tales in which he has his first beginning. No medieval minstrel ever dreamt of a soul so complex, yet so simple, of the nobleness so mixed with the guilt, and yet so noble through it. Such an idea is far beyond the grasp of the French romance writers, or any of their imitators. It is entirely original, as much so as if the name had never before appeared in literature. And, we repeat, could every melodious line Mr. Tennyson has ever written be destroyed, and just enough left to show in the barest way the group of Lancelot, Guinevere, and Elaine, we should be ready on this foundation to hand down his fame to posterity, doubting nothing. The creator of three such human creatures could not be less than a master of his art. ART. IX.-1. Report and Proceedings of Select Committee on Parliamentary and Municipal Elections. 1870. 2. How the Ballot really Works. Speech of the Right Hon. H. C. E. CHILDERS, M.P. 2nd edition. London: 1869. WHAT is it that we in England mean by the Ballot as applied to our public elections? Let the question be put to whomsoever of its advocates we may choose, the answer will indubitably be that by the Ballot is meant a system of conducting elections which shall secure the individual voter from interference by intimidation or corruption, and the country from disturbance, and at the same time leave the result of the elections as free from suspicion of fraud as if the entire process had taken place in public. Sharing the general desire to obtain all possible perfection in the conduct of our elections, but distrusting mechanical panaceas for moral or intellectual defects, we offer for serious consideration at this crisis the views stated in this article. It is of course possible that, notwithstanding the facts which we propose to adduce, the balance of evidence, theoretical or practical, may be adjudged to incline to the side of secret voting; but that is no reason why we should abstain from setting forth the reasons which at present lead us to the conclusion that the Ballot, such as the British people imagine and desire it, has no existence whatever; in short, is no other than a figment of the imagination, and that whatever advantages are found in connexion with secret voting are readily attainable by slight modifications of our present system; while, whatever disadvantages discredit our present system, exist elsewhere in an aggravated form under secret voting. We If the Ballot be not a myth, it must have or have had existence somewhere, and be accessible to investigation. We propose to take in turn the various countries which are quoted as favourable examples of its presence and practice, and show that in none of them exists or is known any such institution or method of conducting elections as that which is being commended to British use under the name of the Ballot. propose to support this conclusion by information gathered from the evidence taken by the Select Parliamentary Committee, and from statements public and private of competent witnesses. The United States of America being the country most nearly allied to us in blood, language, and institutions, and the most prominent of all the examples set before us, claim the first place in the inquiry. The cities of New York and Brooklyn in the east, and Chicago in the western state of Illinois, will serve as fair samples of American usage. There is an important difference in the practice of these places: 'Since 1865 it has been the rule in Illinois for the voting tickets to be provided by the authorities, and to have on them a number corresponding with the voter's number on the poll list. These tickets are preserved for a year after the election is over, and are open to the inspection of anybody who chooses to see them. The object of this precaution' (writes the editor of a highly respectable Chicago newspaper in a recent letter) is to prevent and detect frauds, such as double voting, and it has proved very useful in this regard. It would be easy to abuse the privilege for purposes of intimidation. Practically there is no after examination except in cases of alleged fraud. The Ballot was introduced more for the sake of convenience in taking the votes than for any other purpose. In the rural districts neither corruption nor intimidation have any perceptible influence. In large towns corruption has considerable influence; intimidation scarcely any. Where coercion is sought to be enforced the Ballot only partially protects the voter. It is within my knowledge that a great deal of money is expended for purposes of corruption.' 6 Does a system of voting which allows anyone who chooses' to ascertain a man's vote at any time for a year after an election come into the same category with the Ballot as it exists in an Englishman's mind? And is it credible that Americans would indulge the practice of expending a great deal of money for purposes of corruption,' and yet abstain from applying harsh measures to secure the desired results when they had such facilities of knowledge afforded them? Corruption under such circumstances could not possibly fail to be accompanied by intimidation in some shape. In New York and Brooklyn there seems to be no such provision for checking or scrutinising an election after once the poll has been officially declared. A gentleman who has lived there the last sixteen years, says, in a letter written in January last, that 'Citizens have the privilege of seeing the ballot-boxes opened and the votes counted; but as this is the turning-point of the election, it is not always prudent for those of a different party from the canvassers (or official controllers) to remain, and very frequently the ruling party carries the count in a way more high-handed than honourable. At the very last election in Brooklyn for the office of sheriff, at some of the polling places where a certain candidate was known to be in a minority, the canvassers set the laws at defiance and refused to count the vote, and this in defiance of the police placed there to see the law enforced. The police force took possession of the ballot-boxes and ultimately the law was enforced. So desperately did the party leaders fight to put their candidate in the position they desired that many |