The time has gone by when a volume from the pen of Mr. Taylor can be dismissed with a careless line or two. Few writers of our day have made more rapid advances into popular favor, and no one is more justly entitled to the place which he holds. If we are to trust contemporary criticism, a goodly army of what are called "promising young poets" might be raised from any state in the Union. But what becomes of them? It is one thing to promise, and another to perform, and we fear that this suggestion contains a hint at the whole mystery. It seems to be comparatively easy for educated men, blinded to their incapacity by an unwholesome passion for notoriety which is never the inspiring motive of a real poet, to reach a certain degree of excellence which may be denominated "promising." Many a feather has been shed, and many a wing broken, in attempting to soar beyond it. We shall not describe Mr. Taylor with the epithet. We see nothing to justify it in his volume, on every page of which there is actual performance. Maturity may indeed add to his powers, and further increase his poetical insight; but there is no necessity for waiting, lest we commit ourselves by a favorable opinion, and no fear that such an opinion will be falsified by succeeding efforts. Richard Henry Stoddard doubtless has been styled a promising young poet by half the newspaper press; therefore if we venture to say that Mr. Stoddard has performed, and that the promising season is over with him, it is not because we do not think that his future poems will exhibit new and greater excellencies, but because we recognize merits in his present collection which eminently entitle him to respectful consideration.