...these.. Dramatic Lyrics.. are not merely lyrical as setting to song a passing emotion in the poets' mind: he has possessed himself of the character, or rather is possessed by the character, and so he sings... but (p. 464) one of the most remarkable instances of the manner in which the very form of syllables becomes dramatic, and lyrical too, is the Grammarian's Funeral. . the measure of the syllables keeps time with the very footfall of the bearers of the corpse... (p. 465) if it be conceded that the man is a great poet, the reader may rely upon it, (that) the defect is in himself, and not in the author, if to him the workmanship seems lacking in (p. 466) symmetry. Mr. Br. is a kind of Michael Angelo among our modern poets; he works upon a great scale, he hews at immense blocks, for the vast figures he designs; his grace is not the grace of the drawing-room, but the sweep of a vaulted sky, of the far-off round horizon of the distant sea, of swelling downs, and upheaving mountain chains... Many a (p. 467) reader has perhaps inquired, what meaning the poet attached in his own mind to that remarkable piece, Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came. It is evidently a dark page from some pilgrim's progress or other.... (p. 468). It is one of the most cheerless, weird, utterly desponding fancies in poetry, without a line to light the reader's sense of meaning beyond that which a drear experience and knowledge may supply, to illustrate a picture of life shelving down over the steeps, all drear and desolate to the close,―nature, love, all withering into loneliness and disappointment, until the Dark Tower at the end of the journey, grim as are its fastnesses, becomes as an inn to the weary traveller, a refuge and a rest. "Such is Robert Browning. We agree with those who regard his works as a tonic. More robust poet or writer our language has not produced. In some particulars he reminds us of old Ben Jonson, in his learning, in his elaboration of character, in his pouring the whole wealth of scholarship and language along to develop a character. A "What constitutes. a strong writer? not the power to heap a larger amount of strong and passionate, altho' they may be fitting, words together; it is the sense he conveys, that he has travelled farther and seen more. strong writer is another term for a great discoverer... he has lookt at things with so clear and steady a gaze, that out of the darkness new light has come upon his vision, and he has been able to transfer it to his pages for our benefit. Wordsworth in this spirit interpreted nature . . . (p. 469). But Browning has not found nature so pre-eminently interesting. Man is the entire subject of his whole thought; nature takes her place quite in the background. Man, or men and women, thro all the circles and ages of revolving time; man anywhere, anyhow; Soul, doing, suffering, achieving, sinning, thinking, painting, or fighting; Man is perpetually and perennially interesting; a sense of the indestructible existence of soul seems to be ever present with him. All work abides, perpetuates itself somehow or other; the mysterious here, and now, are themselves the mysterious beyond to those who lived ages since; while still stretches forward the mysterious beyond for us. It is given to some few writers to add to our sense of being; their pages are so surcharged with soul, that the soul of the reader becomes more vital, or more consciously vital; while reading, the destiny seems deeper and larger. Such words have the effect described by our poet himself; they liberate, enfranchise, and set free some ray imprisoned in the spirit, of which until then it was not aware; and this we are told is knowledge: not that the mind accumulates more, but rather that veils drop, walls fall, and skies clear before it and around it, so that it simply becomes able to be itself: this is the highest work of all teaching and spiritual ministration. The reader remembers how this has been done often by a line of Shakspeare or of Wordsworth, and to that same great soul-assisting race of men Robert Browning belongs; to the order of those who help us, rather to see great truths than to manipulate little ones; to whom poetry is no jingle of words, or pretty amusement for harpsichord or piano, but rather a divine trigonometry, a process of celestial triangulation, a taking observations of celestial places and spheres, an attempt to estimate our world, its place, its life amidst the boundless immeasurable sweeps of space and time, or if describing, then describing the animating stories of the giants, how they fought and fell, or conquered. . . . violets and roses have a real and lovely relation. . to the great fountain principles of life, and their beauty comforts and encourages; but the mighty oak out of which we can build the ship, or the tall aspiring palm, which may give life and food to a whole village, are more than violet and rose, and it is no diminution to the loveliness of the flower which blooms at their feet, to say it. So a great allinclusive strength of song, which is as a battle march to warriors, or as the refreshment of brooks and dates to the spent (p. 470) and toiling soldiers on their way, is more than the pretty idyll, whose sweet and plaintive story pleases the idle hour or idle ear. And for these reasons, because we believe it [Mr. B.'s poetry] fulfils these conditions, we hail Mr. Browning as one of the surest aids to faith and trust in the present, and one most certain of . . . immortality in time, as one of the greatest poets of the future." 1868-9. The Ring and the Book. (Ediub. Rev.' July 1869, p. 164-184.) "Like the majority of poets, he [R. B.] is remarkable for a highly sensitive emotional nature, and, like some of the great poets only, he is at the same time and to an equal degree distinguished by the serenity of his intellect. He knows. human nature; [is] familiar with all its gradations, from the 'poach'd filth' of its lowest depravity to the white blamelessness' that crowns as with inviolate snow its moral heights. Everywhere he reveals his love of what is noble, his hatred of what is ignoble; but he never loses the balance of an even mind in adjudicating praise or blame. Through human nature he discerns clearly the problem of human nature, the enigma of man's existence and destiny, that painful riddle of the earth' which has overthrown the calm, and vanquished the courage, of so many a noble mind. Although he confronts that problem always with deep earnestness, he displays something of an eager alacrity in grappling it; and he has never yet come sad and crestfallen from the encounter. To blend a profound knowledge of human nature, and a keen perception of the awful problem of (p. 165) human destiny, with the conservation of a joyous, hopeful spirit-to know men and not despair of them, to battle with men's spiritual foes and not be broken by them-is given only to the very strong. This is to be a valiant and unvanquished soldier of humanity." [The Reviewer then divides great men of the intellectual type into 2 classes: those who have been vanquisht by the problem of man's existence and destiny-like Shelley, Byron, Heine, Carlyle, and those who, although they have not vanquisht it, have not been vanquisht by it, but have kept their hope and cheer, like Shakspere, Goethe, Tennyson, and Browning. He then sketches the Ring and Book story, and gives (p. 178)] "extracts as specimens of the dramatic power of Mr. Br.'s work. That power can only be rightly appreciated by those who will study the poem; and they will find, that the more attention they give to it, the closer the scrutiny to which they subject it, the more vividly distinct will grow the individual characters of the drama. These are not lay figures through the mouth of which, after they have been twisted into the fitting pose, the poet declaims appropriate sentiments; they are men and women throbbing with life and passion, giving vent in words to the emotions of love and hate, and hope and fear, and good and evil desires, that stir within them, and which find only intense expression because they are intensely felt. These characters range, we may almost say, through the entire scale of human nature. Beside the arch-villain, that true 'spark of hell' Count Guido, and his four cut-throats, we have notable specimens of the 'subordinately vile'; Marzi-Medici, pusillanimous Governor of Arezzo, who will not help the weak, lest he offend the strong; the 'hireling' Archbishop, who will not save from the wolf's paw, the lamb that is within reach of his crozier; the craven monk. . Guido's two brothers, the Abate 'fox-faced horrible priest', and the young Girolamo, hybrid between wolf and fox. the mother of these, 'The hag that gave these three abortions birth' Then we have types of average humanity-impulsive gossip-loving busybodies... ... some philosophical dandy... the lawyers... (p. 179). Lastly, to set off against all this superlative and subordinate villany, this humdrum of the commonplace, this professional insincerity and greed-to set off against these, and vindicate the majesty of human nature, stand forth Pope Innocent in all the clarity of wisdom, of Christian fortitude and grace; Pompilia in the and 1869. purity, the sweetness of womanly innocence; Caponsacchi in the full brightness was the trial sore? [Then, showing how Br. holds that sin and sorrow here are meant to 'evolve the moral qualities of man,' and so enable him to wring from out all pain, all pleasure for a common heritage to all eternity'; how within B.'s 'circle of experience burns the central truth, Power, Wisdom, Goodness.-God' and therefore his speech must be throughout the darkness,' "It will end: The light that did burn, will burn"! (p. 182) so thro all trials he has faith.] "So never I miss footing in the maze; No! I have light, nor fear the dark at all.' This is the true felicity of men-to hear, amid the din and direful spectacle of the battle, the sage servant of God and soldier of humanity proclaim, not in any cry of ecstatic hope, but in the calm clear voice of conviction, his faith in the victory to come : 'No! I have light, nor fear the dark at all.' (p. 182.) This is what we meant when we said that Mr. Br. was distinguished by the serenity of his intellect; when we called him a valiant soldier of humanity; when we numbered him with those who, if they have not vanquisht, have at least not been vanquisht, by the problem of human nature." Forster's Life of Landor,' II, 42. See also Forster's remarks, same page.J. D. C. 1869. April 1. Bp. Thirlwall, in 'Letters to a Friend,' 1881, ii. 184. "The Ring and the Book.. here and there is really difficult reading.. I am sometimes forced to read a passage 3 or 4 times before I am sure that I understand it. That is, no doubt, a fault, tho' I think it arises mainly from an exaggeration of a merit. It carries the Chinese-like condensation of English style a little too far. There is an increase of vigour as in the clenching of a fist, but it costs time and pain to open it. "It is not, however, necessary for the enjoyment of the story to stop at these knotty points; but if it was, there would be ample compensation for the exertion in the amazing ingenuity of the invention, and beauty of the execution, tho' a little marred by occasional negligences, which such a poet can well afford, as they rather produce the effect of conscious power." 1872. Fifine at the Fair: on or after June 6, reviewd in a 'Daily Telegraph' leader, the Athenæum,' Examiner,' 'Scotsman,' 'John Bull,' the 'Graphic,' 'Manchester Guardian,' 'Spectator' (a fair analysis), Liverpool Mercury,' 'North British Quarterly,' 'Illustrated London News,''Literary World,' 2 articles (the best of all), 'Observer,' 'Fortnightly Review' (by S. Colvin), 'Saturday Review,' 'Standard,' 'North Atlantic Monthly,' 'The Times,' 'Daily News' (a few lines in the summary of the year's books), 'Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper.'—Mrs. Sutherland-Orr's Collections. 1873. Red-Cotton Night-Cap Country: on or after May 5, reviewd in the 'Globe,' 'Standard,' 'Daily News,' 'Hour,' 'Echo,' 'Spectator,' 'Examiner,' 'Conservative, Scotsman,' John Bull,' 'Graphic, Illustrated London News,' 'Liverpool Mercury,' 'New York Daily Tribune' (May 5).—Orr. 1873. 'Penn Monthly' (Philadelphia), Sept. 1873. Article on Red Cotton NightCap Country. [pp. 657-661, by R. E. T.] This is a high class-American Monthly Magazine emanating from the Pennsylvania University.1-F. H. E. 1875. Aristophanes' Apology: about or after April 12, reviewd in 'Daily News' (leader), Liverpool Mercury,' 'Globe,'' Pictorial World' (and the next week a general appreciative article on R. B. by Mortimer Collins), Hour' (April 19), Scotsman,' World,' John Bull,' 'Examiner' (by Edm. W. Gosse; a pretty article), 'Standard,' 'Observer,' 'Nonconformist,' 'Concordia' (by Joseph Knight), Manchester Guardian' (June 21), Echo,' 'Spectator,' 'Illustrated London News,' 'Pall Mall Gazette.'-Orr. 1875. "Aristophanes' Apology . . . resumes the thread of the poem published a few years ago under the title of Balaustion's Adventure. In that poem.. Balaustion, a Rhodian girl, saves her own life and that of the crew of the vessel in which she had taken passage to Athens,-but which had been driven by stress of weather and the pursuit of pirates into the hostile port of Syracuse,-by reciting to the Syracusans, Euripides's play of Alcestis. In Aristophanes' Apology, Balaustion and her husband, Euthycles, are quitting Athens for Rhodes, after the occupation of the former city by Lysander, at the close of the Peloponnesian War. Balaustion narrates to her husband the story of the death of Euripides, and tells how, on the day of his death, Aristophanes burst into her dwelling at the close of a comic revel, and held long converse with her on his treatment of the dead poet. She tells how she listened patiently to his Apology, which she repeats, together with her own reply, and then, as a final defence of her beloved master, she recites his play of Hercules, the manuscript of which, with other relics of his muse, he had given her. Aristophanes, partly convinced by the splendour of the poem, continues his Apology in a less triumphant tone, and leaves Balaustion half reconciled to him by his acknowledgment of the loss which Athens had sustained by the death of Euripides."-The Times,' Oct. 4, 1875. 1875. The Inn Album: about or after Nov. 27, reviewd in the 'Globe,' 'Saturday Review,' 'Leeds Mercury,' 'Daily News,' John Bull,' 'Liverpool Mercury,' 'Spectator,'' Examiner,' 'Standard,' 'Graphic.'-Orr. 1876. Prof. Geddes's Address to his 2nd Greek Class at Aberdeen University, on the opening of the Winter Session, 1876-7: subject "Some Modern Reproductions of Classic Poetry," ending with that of one who is perhaps the most notable figure on the poetic horizon of the present day-Robert Browning'. . . 'the 1 "Mr. Browning's strength lies very greatly in his vast learning, and his imaginative grasp of the characteristics of different times and places and people. Hardly a period of the race's life, from the pre-historic Caliban down to Napoleon III., but has been the subject of his pen; hardly a situation of human life that he has not touched. But Italy and the Renaissance seem to furnish the historical and geographical centres of his imaginative activity. Never in English speech have the two been so finely reproduced and made intelligible. In his last poem, Mr. B. finds his subject in France under the second empire. One chief interest of the poem is its masterly analysis of the paroxysm of religious enthusiasm that at present possesses France, and which is chiefly striking to observers for the absence of any ethical elements in its operations and its effects. . . the poem is unrelieved by any real nobleness in the actors. And yet Miranda is one of the best drawn of a group of characters that only Browning in modern times has attempted, the selfdeceiving, semi-hypocrites; and few passages from his pen surpass the soliloquy that precedes his [Miranda's] strange and suicidal leap. strongest and subtlest, if not the sweetest, poet of our age': A short review of B.'s general characteristics, a longer one of his Balaustion, and a notice of Aristophanes' Apology. Enough has been indicated to show that the Greek muse is still a potential factor even in English literature, and that the strongest of our living poets is a votary at her shrine-(loud cheers).' An Aberdeen paper, probably early in Nov. 1876.-Orr. 1877. The Agamemnon of Eschylus: on or after Oct. 22, reviewd in 'Daily News,' 'Liverpool Mercury,' 'World,' 'Standard,'‘May Fair' (noted in 'Academy,' May 10, in review of Morshead's englisht Agamemnon), Examiner' (R. B. and Morshead: 2 articles), 'Spectator,' 'Guardian' (p. 1623-4), ‘John Bull,' 'Nineteenth Century,' 'Notes and Queries,' 'Glasgow News.'-Orr. 1879. Dramatic Idyls [First Series]: reviewd in The Spectator,' May 31; an 8vo Review," Mr. Browning's New Poems," by The Editor, p. 269-274; 'Fifeshire Journal,' May 29, by Thomas Bayne; John Bull,' May 17; Daily Free Press,' April 28; Glasgow Herald,' April 28; Journal of Education, p. 128-130; Saturday Review,' June 21; Edinburgh Courant,' July 26; an 8vo Review (the Pen), July, p. 117-124, in an article on "Three Small Books by Great Writers"; a Russian Review, 'The Daily New Times,' col. 108-115, 10 Mar. 1879, 11 Tom.; Helen Zimmern, in a German paper; The Christian World,' "Ned Bratts and John Bunyan."—Orr. 1859. The Wanderer,' by Owen Meredith [the prezent Lord Lytton]. In the Dedication to J[ohn] F[orster] occur the following lines on Browning. Note, p. 24. "And, citing all he said or sung With praise reserved for bards like him, 25. "Than whom a mightier master never Touch'd the deep chords of hidden things; Nor error did from truth dissever With keener glance; nor made endeavour 26. "In those high regions of the soul 350. Where Thought itself grows dim with awe." King Solomon. My knowledge of the Rabbinical legend which suggested this poem is one among the many debts I owe to my friend R. B. I hope these lines may remind him of hours which his society rendered precious and delightful to me, and which are among the most pleasant memories of my life." 1880. Poets in the Pulpit.' By the Rev. H. R. Haweis, M.A. (Vice-Pres. of the Browning Soc.), London. Sampson, Low & Co. 1880. With Woodbury-type photographs of the Poets treated. Robert Browning, p. 116-143. Foretalk; Browning's Characteristics: including a happy contrast of B.'s Prospice and Pope's Dying Christian to his Soul. Then, an account of B.'s Christmas-Eve. Sketchy, but of worth. p. 121 He is chiefly dear to the age as a feeler and thinker; he is also dear because knowing all, and having been racked with its doubts, and stretched upon the mental torture-wheels of its despair; having sounded cynicism and pessimism to their depths. . . he sometimes firmly, and sometimes faintly [?], trusts the larger hope, but always in the last analysis and residuum of thought,-trusts. Coming from such a mind, such a buoyant message this vexed and storm-tossed age will not willingly let die. It clings to Browning... Br. is our friend; we take him by the hand; we feel we can trust him; he is equally incapable of lying or cajolery. We say to him . . . you have the insight and sensibility of the poet, the soul of an artist; you pre |