Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's,
Therefore, on him no speech! and brief for thee,
Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale
No man has walked along our roads with step
So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue
So varied in discourse. But warmer climes
Give brighter plumage, stronger wing: the breeze
Of Alpine heights thou playest with, borne on
Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where
The Siren waits thee, singing song for song.
--WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR.
Tennyson has a vivid feeling of the dignity and potency of
_law_.... Browning vividly feels the importance, the greatness
and beauty of passions and enthusiasms, and his imagination
is comparatively unimpressed by the presence of law and its
operations.... It is not the order and regularity in the processes of
the natural world which chiefly delight Browning's imagination, but
the streaming forth of power, and will, and love from the whole face
of the visible universe....
Tennyson considers the chief instruments of human progress to be a
vast increase of knowledge and of political organization. Browning
makes that progress dependent on the production of higher passions,
and aspirations,--hopes, and joys, and sorrows; Tennyson finds the
evidence of the truth of the doctrine of progress in the universal
presence of a self-evolving law. Browning obtains his assurance of
its truth from inward presages and prophecies of the soul, from
anticipations, types, and symbols of a higher greatness in store for
man, which even now reside within him, a creature ever unsatisfied,
ever yearning upward in thought, feeling, and endeavour.
... Hence, it is not obedience, it is not submission to the law
of duty, which points out to us our true path of life, but rather
infinite desire and endless aspiration. Browning's ideal of manhood
in this world always recognizes the fact that it is the ideal of a
creature who never can be perfected on earth, a creature whom other
and higher lives await in an endless hereafter....
The gleams of knowledge which we possess are of chief value because
they "sting with hunger for full light." The goal of knowledge, as of
love, is God himself. Its most precious part is that which is least
positive--those momentary intuitions of things which eye hath not seen
nor ear heard. The needs of the highest parts of our humanity cannot
be supplied by ascertained truth, in which we might rest, or which we
might put to use for definite ends; rather by ventures of faith, which
test the courage of the soul, we ascend from surmise to assurance, and
so again to higher surmise.--Condensed from EDWARD DOWDEN, _Studies
in Literature_.
... Browning has not cared for that poetic form which bestows
perennial charm, or else he was incapable of it. He fails in beauty,
in concentration of interest, in economy of language, in selection of
the best from the common treasure of experience. In those works where
he has been most indifferent, as in the _Red Cotton Night-Cap
Country_, he has been merely whimsical and dull; in those works
where the genius he possessed is most felt, as in _Saul_, _A Toccata
of Galuppi's_, _Rabbi Ben Ezra_, _The Flight of the Duchess_, _The Bishop
Orders his Tomb in Saint Praxed's Church_, _Hervé Riel_, _Cavalier Tunes_,
_Time's Revenges_, and many more, he achieves beauty, or nobility,
or fitness of phrase such as only a poet is capable of. It is in these
last pieces and their like that his fame lies for the future. It
was his lot to be strong as the thinker, the moralist, with "the
accomplishment of verse," the scholar interested to rebuild the past
of experience, the teacher with an explicit dogma in an intellectual
form with examples from life, the anatomist of human passions,
instincts, and impulses in all their gamut, the commentator on his own
age; he was weak as the artist, often unnecessarily and by choice, in
the repulsive form,--in the awkward, the obscure, the ugly. He belongs
with Jonson, with Dryden, with the heirs of the masculine intellect,
the men of power not unvisited by grace, but in whom mind is
predominant. Upon the work of such poets time hesitates, conscious
of their mental greatness, but also of their imperfect art, their
heterogeneous matter; at last the good is sifted from that whence
worth has departed.--From GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY'S _Studies in
Letters and Life_.
When it is urged that for a poet the intellectual energies are too
strong in Browning, that for poetry the play of intellectual interests
and activities is too great in his work, and that Browning often and
at times ruthlessly sacrifices the requirements and effects of art
for the expression of thought, that "though he refreshes the heart he
tires the brain," we should admit this with regard to a good deal of
the work of the third period. We should allow that this is the side
to which he leans generally, but still hold that, though to many his
intellectual quality and energy may well seem excessive, yet in great
part of his work, and that of course, his best, the passion of the
poet and his kind of imagination are just as fresh and powerful as
the intellectual force and subtlety are keen and abundant.--JAMES
FROTHINGHAM, _Studies of the Mind and Art of Robert Browning_.
Now dumb is he who waked the world to speak,
And voiceless hangs the world beside his bier,
Our words are sobs, our cry or praise a tear:
We are the smitten mortal, we the weak.
We see a spirit on earth's loftiest peak
Shine, and wing hence the way he makes more clear:
See a great Tree of Life that never sere
Dropped leaf for aught that age or storms might wreak;
Such ending is not death: such living shows
What wide illumination brightness sheds
From one big heart,--to conquer man's old foes:
The coward, and the tyrant, and the force
Of all those weedy monsters raising heads
When Song is muck from springs of turbid source.
--GEORGE MEREDITH.
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