his published works; but it is now to be found in all the
complete editions of Browning. After this Arcadian sojourn Browning and
his son, with Miss Browning, were the guests of Lady Ashburton at Loch
Luichart Lodge.

For two or three years after the publication of "The Ring and the Book,"
Browning wrote little. The demands of friends and of an always enormous
correspondence occupied much time; his son was growing into young manhood,
and already manifesting his intense love of art, and his gifts as both
painter and sculptor.

Browning's conversation was always fascinating. It was full of glancing
allusion, wit, sparkle, and with that constant undertone of significance
that may be serious or gay, but which always lingers with a certain
impressiveness to haunt the mind of the listener. Dr. Hiram Corson, who
may perhaps be regarded as Browning's greatest interpreter, speaks of one
of his visits to the poet, in London, where the conversation turned from
Shelley to Shakespeare. "He spoke with regret of the strangely limited
reading of the Plays, even by those who believe themselves habitual and
devoted readers," says Dr. Corson.

"At luncheon," continues Dr. Corson, "his talk was, as usual with him,
rapid and off-hand. He gave but a _coup d'oeil_ to every subject
that came up. In all subsequent talks with him, I never got the
slightest impression from him of pride of intellect, though his was
certainly one of the subtlest and most comprehensive intellects of his
time. He was absolutely free from it; was saved from it by his
spiritual vitality. His intellectual and his spiritual nature jointly
operated. Nor did he ever show to me any pride of authorship; never
made any independent allusion to his poetry. One might have supposed
that his poetry, great and extensive as it was, was a parergon, a
by-work, with him.

"I have no recollection of any saying of his, such as might be
recorded for its wisdom or profundity. Never a brilliant thought
crystallized in a single sentence. His talk was especially
characterized by its cordiality and rapid flow. The 'member of
society' and the poet seemed to be quite distinct.

"One day when Mrs. Corson and I were lunching with him in Warwick
Crescent," said Dr. Corson, "he told us a most amusing incident. On
that morning Browning was particularly 'an embodied joy.' He told
several good stories, one of which sh