than any other "modern artificer." Did he find it a part of Wordsworth's endowment also, and to what extent? On the face of it one would say, "Yes." Surely, if any poet ever sought to show "the correspondency of the universe to Deity," Wordsworth did. But it does not follow that his manner of doing it commended itself to Browning as much as Shelley's. Shelley's method has more of the fine frenzy about it; he is as a reed, shaken by the wind, indeed, but through which the wind blows mysterious yet exultant melodies; he acquaints us, as halfdizzily we follow him, with the strife of elemental forces; nearly persuades us that we hear the morning stars singing together; is himself so much of an enchanter as almost to liberate us for the moment from our mortal weeds; makes us forget the dull earth and its concomitants, translating us to the pure and ample ether where his own spirit ecstatically hovers. The dull earth? But to Wordsworth earth was never dull. And that is why his method of showing "the correspondency of the Universe to Deity" is so widely different from Shelley's. his youth, indeed, he worshipped natural objects with an almost pagan intensity. In I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Not hard nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A presence that disturbs me with the joy Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, And the round ocean and the living. air, And the blue sky and in the mind of man: A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things.1 It is something more than "a pale yet positive gleam" that he beholds. These lines, written in 1798, show Wordsworth in the plentitude of his powers. They show also his method of dealing with the matter under discussion; a graver, more sober method than Shelley's; more reasoned and reflective, but also less dithyrambic. And Browning found Shelley's method more potent and convincing at any rate in 1851, when he wrote the Shelley preface. But it does not follow that he did not value Wordsworth's also. Temperamentally, as we have seen, he and Wordsworth could hardly have been sympathetic to one another. But in the domain of poetry there are certain broad conceptions upon which both It is interesting to compare this doctrine with that of the Pythagorean "Anima Mundi," as expounded in the sixth book of Vergil. Had Wordsworth the passage in mind, one wonders? Here, if is permissible to quote Latin in a footnote, are the lines: "Princibio caelum ac terras camposque liquentis Lucentemque globum Lunae Titaniaque astra insist. Both, for instance, unflinchingly uphold the doctrine of the soul's immortality, though on different grounds. We know how Wordsworth sustained his lofty argument; by dim and haunting memories of something that the soul has known elsewhere, by her Obstinate questionings Of sense and outward things. We know Browning's passionate conviction of survival, to which so many sources of belief contributed; to name a few, the confidence of older masters such as Dante, the tenets of the Kantian school, the whispered message which he heard in music The rest may reason and welcome; 'tis we musicians know and his own intuition, which, with a full knowledge of all that could be argued on the other side, he never mistrusted for an instant. Again, both were in the highest degree sensible of the poetic value of natural objects. Both were keen observers as well as lovers of nature; and nature was inextricably woven into the stuff of their poetry. The resulting patterns are diverse, it is true. Nature as a whole, as a mysterious but potent entity, bulks more largely in Wordsworth's compositions. He had deliberately turned his back upon the life of cities, except as a rare visitant, in order to commune with her in her beautiful and more majestic aspects. No marvel then if his men and women, true and touching as they are, are sometimes dwarfed and overshadowed by his mountains. Whereas with Browning, however beautiful the setting-and some of his settings need not fear comparison with those of the very greatest writers: in James Lee's Wife, for instance, and in 2 To avoid misunderstanding, let me say that I am not here concerned with either poet's interpretation of Christian doctrine; I merely enumerate some of the sources from which, in their writings, they draw their arguments in support of immortality. Love Among the Ruins—it is always the men and women who are the centre of the picture. And this, again, follows from his eminently social disposition. Unlike Wordsworth, he was a lifelong inhabitant of cities, and seldom wearied of them. His characters are mostly city folk, as Wordsworth's were usually dalesmen. It could not well be otherwise. Even Pippa, who for innocence and simplicity, as well as in lowliness of station, may rank with any of Wordsworth's rural heroines, is bred and nurtured in a town. It must be admitted, as our comparison proceeds, that the points of difference between the two poets are more striking than those of similarity. It was Wordsworth's mission, Matthew Arnold told us, to recall to the remembrance of mankind the vast and permanent sources of satisfaction which are to be found in nature and in simple life, to speak Of joy in widest commonalty spread. The message is as perennial as is the need of it. To Browning neither joy nor sorrow is of the first moment, but life-the life of men and womenwhether joyful or the reverse, is of secondary import; but in either case life that is full of activity, that is always striving, rarely satisfied. He finds almost anything preferable to "the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin." He has the widest sympathy with failure, but none at all with inactivity. Rest with him is but the preliminary to new adventure. Even his deepest thinkers, such as the Pope in The Ring and the Book, have action in view as the end of their meditations. Browning's nature was hardly such that he could be Contented if he might enjoy The things which others understand; and "a wise passiveness" could scarcely be its ideal. III. One minor characteristic, however, the two poets had in common-a dislike of making public speeches. "Though a remarkable conversationalist," Wordsworth's biographer tells us, "he never excelled as a public speaker, and was too wise to attempt it often. On one occasion, however, he delivered a long address when laying the foundation-stone of a new school at Bowness." For half a century Browning eluded all such occasions; but he was caught at last. It was in 1884, at the tercentenary of Edinburgh University. The students, at a reception held in honor of the guests of their University, had listened to harangues from Lowell, De Lesseps, Virchow, Pasteur, and others. Then, to quote The Scotsman (April 18th, 1884), In response to loud calls for a speech, Mr. Browning rose amid enthusiastic cheering. His utterance was not long, but it was pointed. "Gentlemen," he said, "the utter surprise with which this demonstration fills me, and the embarrassment consequent upon it, must be my excuse for not attempting to do more adequately what I am afraid would in any case be done by me most imperfectly. (Laughter.) I am usually accused of my writings being unintelligible. (Laughter.) Let me for once attempt to be intelligible indeed, by saying that I feel thoroughly grateful to you for the kindness which, not only on this occasion, but during the last two or three days, I have experienced. I shall consider this, to the end of my life, one of the proudest days I have spent. The recognition you have given me, and all your kindness, I shall never forget. It has been customary to regard this as Browning's one and only speech in public; since the words uttered in 1882 at a meeting of the Wordsworth Society, "I am locum tenens for Lord Coleridge" hardly constitute a speech. But by the fortunate presence at Llangollen in the summer of 1886 of a relative of my own, who put me on the track of it, I am able here to give the substance of another. Browning spent that summer in Denbighshire, in the near neighborhood of Sir Theodore and Lady Martin. On September 10th he was present with Sir Theodore at a concert at the village of Glyndyfrdwy. In an introductory address on music, Sir Theodore emphasized its value in a world where so often Men sit and hear each other groan. Respect all such as sing when all alone! "in the words," he continued, “of a great poet who is sitting among you to-day." Browning's successful little speech at Edinburgh two years earlier must have given him confidence, for at the close of the concert, "in response to the repeated demands of the audience" -I quote the Llangollen Advertiser of that date-"Mr. Browning, in a few appropriate words, said he was thoroughly delighted with the programme. He hardly expected in so remote a corner of the country to hear such fine music; it was most enjoyable and delightful, especially the violin performance, of which he could form a pretty fair opinion." A public library was at that time being started in Llangollen, and on leaving the neighborhood a few weeks later Browning intimated his intention of sending a contribution to it in the shape of a parcel of books, as a memento of his Welsh holiday.' IV. And those poems of Wordsworth which were "special favorites" with 3 The kindness of Mr. R. H. Jones, Hon. Sec. of the Library, enables me to add that the books, which were duly sent, comprised the works of the poet and his wife, of Thackeray and his daughter, and of the Brontesabout a hundred volumes in all. A PLAN THAT FAILED. "For the wildest dreams of Kew are the facts at Khatmandoo, His Excellency Darab Nishan Pasha, elderly Notable of Mahal, a village of Upper Egypt, was no more happy under the British administration of his country than an Early Victorian Liberal would be under that of the Independent Labor Party. In the opinion of His Excellency there was far too much talk about liberty, an idea in itself subversive of social order; and the situation was not improved, from his point of view, by the recent appointment as Inspector of the Mudiria1 of a young and energetic Englishman, who listened with perfect readiness to the complaints of the fellahin. The effect of this unusual behavior upon the part of an Egyptian Government official produced an immediate result in Mahal. For the first time within twenty years, its Omda began to show signs of restiveness. No longer were the ghafirs sent in a body to work upon His Excellency's land. In place of twelve lusty fellows there would come but two or three; and on one black morning nobody came at all. In vain the Pasha protested that his work was urgent. The ghafirs replied simply that the new Inspector had bidden them to rest by day, in order to be more watchful at night. 2 Shortly after this distressing incident, cattle plague broke out, and the public sale of cattle was strictly prohibited. But His Excellency always maintained that administrative decrees were not intended to apply to Notables of the rank of Pasha; and, being overstocked at this moment, he disposed of his weak and aged animals to less fortunate neighbors at most profitable 1 Egypt is divided into fourteen Mudirias or provinces. 2 A village is administered by an Omda or headman, assisted by one or more Sheikhs el Balad; while public security is maintained by a force of ghafirs, or village watchmen. LIVING AGE. VOL. LVI. 2920 prices. In the end, however, the authorities swooped down upon an improvised market held on his estate, and actually summoned him, Darab Nishan Pasha, for contravening the Cattle Plague Decree. He bore this indignity with fortitude; but he was deeply incensed by the fact that some resident of Mahal must have acquainted the Mudiria of the existence of the market. If the Omda was the culprit, it was clearly desirable to reduce him without delay to his former state of dependence. Accordingly His Excellency determined upon a bold strike. He would become the son-in-law of the Omda. Now the latter possessed an only daughter, Fatima by name, whose future was a perpetual source of discussion among the ladies of Mahal. Fatima had been sent to a Government Girls' School in Cairo, where she had gained the Primary Certificate. Not content with that educational achievement, it was rumored that she was intent upon securing also the Secondary. During vacations she would visit her parents, and astonish Mahal hareems by expatiating upon her intimacy with a mysterious and omniscient being enjoying the honorable title of "Mees." The fact that Darab Nishan Pasha already possessed the regulation number of wives presented no obstacle to his views regarding Fatima. Divorce is easy in Egypt, and he had been considering for some time the possibility of putting away his senior wife, a lady whose plain features and sharp tongue obviously marked her out for that fate. The Omda was unable to refuse so brilliant a match for his daughter, and he gave his consent at once. An astonishing hitch, thereupon, occurred. Arabic rendering of the English word "Miss." |