Far from
this, indeed, a deliberate unity of purpose is strikingly apparent.
Without referring for the present to what are assumed to be perverse
faults of execution--a question the principles and bearing of which
will shortly be considered--assuredly the mention of the names of a
few among Browning's poems--of "Paracelsus," "Pippa Passes," "Luria,"
the "Souls's Tragedy," "King Victor and King Charles," even of the
less perfect achievement, "Strafford"; or, passing to the smaller
poems, of "The Soliloquy of the Spanish Cloister," "The Laboratory,"
and "The Bishop orders his Tomb at St. Praxed's";--will at once
realize to the memory of all readers an abstruse ideal never lost
sight of, and treated to the extreme of elaboration. As regards this
point, we address all in any manner acquainted with the poet's works,
certain of receiving an affirmative answer even from those who
"_can't_ read Sordello, or understand the object of writing in that
style."
If so many exceptions to Browning's "system of extravagance" be
admitted,--and we again refer for confirmation or refutation to all
who have sincerely read him, and who, valuing written criticism at
its worth, value also at _its_ worth the criticism of individual
conviction,--wherein are we to seek this extravagance? The groundwork
exempted, the imputation attaches, if anywhere, to the framework; to
the body, if not to the soul.
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