ities of Glasgow and St. Andrew's and the presidency of the
Wordsworth Society.

During the latter part of his life, he divided most of his time
between London and Italy. When he died, in 1889, he was living with
his son, Robert Barrett Browning, in the Palazzo Rezzonico, Venice.
Over his grave in Westminster Abbey was chanted Mrs. Browning's
touching lyric:--

"He giveth his beloved, sleep."

Dramatic Monologues.--Browning was a poet of great productivity.
From the publication of _Pauline_ in 1833 to _Asolando_ in 1889, there
were only short pauses between the appearances of his works. Unlike
Tennyson, Browning could not stop to revise and recast; but he
constantly sought expression, in narratives, dramas, lyrics, and
monologues, for new thoughts and feelings.

The study of the human soul held an unfailing charm for Browning. He
analyzes with marked keenness and subtlety the experiences of the
soul, its sickening failures, and its eager strivings amid complex,
puzzling conditions. In nearly all his poems, whether narrative,
lyric, or dramatic, the chief interest centers about some "incidents
in the development of a soul."

The poetic form that he found best adapted to "the development of a
soul" was the dramatic monologue, of which he is one of the greatest
masters. Requiring but one speaker, this form narrows the interest
either to the speaker or to the one described by him. Most of his best
monologues are to be found in the volumes known as _Dramatic Lyrics_
(1842), _Dramatic Romances and Lyrics_ (1845), _Men and Women_ (1855),
_Dramatis Personae_ (1864).

_My Last Duchess, Andrea del Sarto, Saul, Abt Vogler_, and _The Last
Ride Together_ are a few of his strong representative monologues. The
speaker in _My Last Duchess_ is the widowed duke, who is describing
the portrait of his lost wife. In his blind conceit, he is utterly
unconscious that he is exhibiting clearly his own coldly selfish
nature and his wife's sweet, sunny disposition. The chief power of the
poem lies in the astonishing ease with which he is made to reveal his
own character.

The interest in _Andrea del Sarto_ is in the mental conflict of this
"faultless painter." He wishes, on the one hand, to please his wife
with popular pictures, and yet he yearns for higher ideals of his art.
He says:--

"Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?"

As he sits in the twilight, holding his wife's hand, and talking in