Mr. Boker's next publication was the tragedy of _Anne Boleyn_, which appeared in February, 1850. In this work he touched on more familiar ground, and in some instances, in his treatment of historical characters, came in conflict with the opinions or prejudices of the critics. The necessity of adhering to history in the arrangement of the plot and selection of the dramatis personæ, imposed some restraint on the author's mind, and hence, while _Anne Boleyn_ exhibits a calmer and more secure strength, and a riper artistic knowledge than _Calaynos_, it lacks the fire and passionate fervor of some passages of the latter. We should not forget, however, that the Thames has a colder and sadder sun than the Guadalquiver. Objections have been made to Mr. Boker's King Henry, especially to his complaint of the torments of his conscience, and his moralizing over Norris's ingratitude. But those who cavil at these points seem to forget that however vile and heartless King Henry appears to them, he is a very different man to himself. The author's idea--and it is true to human nature--evidently is, that a criminal is not always guilty to his own mind. This marked insensibility of King Henry to his own false and corrupt nature is a subtle stroke of art. The language of the tragedy is strong, terse, and full of point, approaching the sturdy Saxon idiom of the early English dramatists. We might quote many passages in support of our opinion, as, for instance, the scene between the Queen and her brother, Lord Rochford; between the Queen and King Henry; Wyatt and Rochford, and King Henry and Jane Seymour. Two or three brief extracts we cannot avoid giving. Wyatt and Rochford are in "The Safety," the thieves' quarter of London--the St. Giles of that day. Wyatt speaks: "I oft have thought the watchful eye of God Upon this place ne'er rested; or that hell Had raised so black a smoke of densest sin That the All-Beautiful, appalled, shrunk back From its fierce ugliness. I tell you, friend, When the great treason, which shall surely come To burst in shards law-bound society, Gives the first shudder, ere it grinds to dust Thrones, ranks, and fortunes, and most cunning law-- When the great temple of our social state Staggers and throbs, and totters back to chaos-- Let men look here, here in this fiery mass Of aged crime and primal ignorance, For the hot heart of all the mystery!-- Here, on this howling sea, let fall the scourge, Or pour the oil of mercy! _Rochford._ Pour the oil-- In God's name, pour the blessed oil! The scourge, Bloody and fierce, has fallen for ages past Upon the foreward crests within its reach; Yet made no more impression on the mass Than Persia's whips upon the Hellespont!" Wyatt's soliloquy on beholding Queen Anne led forth to execution is full of a rare and subtle beauty, both of thought and expression: