ABSTRACT
Even those who are fain to admire because they are content to study it, and who fancy they discern and feel something of its fine impressive moral, are not thoroughly assured that they enter into the author’s spirit, or rightly estimate the sentiment and meaning of his verses. To some-and not a few-the poem will be writ in hieroglyphic symbols; and the fault is not wholly in themselves,—the poet’s style and language is unwarrantably broken and obscure. The fact is, that Mr. Browning is too proud for anything. He disdains to take a little pains to put the reader at a similar advantage with himself,—to give a preparatory statement which may help to make his subsequent effusion plain and logical. He scorns the good old style of beginning at the beginning. He starts from any point and speaks in any tense he pleases; is never simple or literal for a moment; leaves out (or out of sight) a link here and another there of that which forms the inevitable chain of truth, making a hint or a word supply its place; and, if you fail to comprehend the whole, is apparently satisfied that he knows better, and has the advantage of you there. He abandons himself to a train of vivid associations, and brings out some features of them with remarkable effect; but he gives you no clue whereby to follow him throughout. It may seem odd, to compare a man so reticent and clever with the weak and loquacious Mrs. Nickleby;1 but really his random style of address is not unlike that lady’s; and in respect to both, we rather plume ourselves upon the exercise of conjectural skill, than feel indebted to the speaker for a satisfactory and distinct relation. No doubt there is more real coherence in Mr. Browning’s language, but it is not apparent,—it is for the student, and not the reader. We suppose, too, that while the one is artlessness itself, the other is supreme and cunning art. No matter, however, if these extremes meet; the effect in either case is impatience and fatigue.
