o assume that
he spoils fine thoughts by a vicious, extravagant, and involved
style, a few analytical questions, to be answered unbiassed by
hearsay evidence. Concerning the dramatic works: Is the leading idea
conspicuously brought forward throughout each work? Is the language
of the several speakers such as does not create any impression other
than that warranted by the subject matter of each? If so, does it
create the impression apparently intended? Is the character of speech
varied according to that of the speaker? Are the passages of
description and abstract reflection so introduced as to add to
poetic, without detracting from dramatic, excellence? About the
narrative poems, and those of a more occasional and personal quality
the same questions may be asked with some obvious adaptation; and
this about all:--Are the versification strong, the sound sharp or
soft, monotonous, hurried, in proportion to the requirement of sense;
the illustrative thoughts apt and new; the humour quaint and
relishing? Finally, is not in many cases that which is spoken of as
something extraneous, dragged in aforethought, for the purpose of
singularity, the result more truly of a most earnest and
single-minded labor after the utmost rendering of idiomatic
conversational truth; the rejection of all stop-gap words; about the
most literal transcript of fact compatible with the ends of poetry
and true feeling for Art? This a point worthy note, and not capable
of contradiction.{14}

{14} We may instance several scenes of "Pippa Passes,"--the
concluding one especially, where Pippa reviews her day; the whole of
the "Soul's Tragedy,"--the poetic as well as the prose portion; "The
Flight of the Duchess;" "Waring," &c.; and passages continually
recurring in "Sordello," and in "Colombe's Birthday."

These questions answered categorically will, we believe, be found to
establish the assurance that Browning's style is copious, and
certainly not other than appropriate,--instance contrasted with
instance--as the form of expression bestowed on the several phases of
a certain ever-present form of thought. We have already endeavored to
show that, where style is not inadequate, its object as a means being
attained, the mind must revert to its decision as to relative and
collective value of intention: and we will again leave Browning's
manifestations of intellectual purpose, as such, for the verdict of
his readers.

To those who yet insist: "Why cannot I re