plies above all other things the possession of a quality the very opposite of obscurity-a faculty of spiritual illumination rapid and intense and subtle as lightning, which brings to bear upon its central object by way of direct and vivid illustration every symbol and every detail on which its light is. flashed in passing.

NOTE. We talk glibly about the canons of art. We have long believed that beauty of form, careful refinement of phrase to thought, logical adaptation of details to each other, clear simplicity of expression, are essential to the immortality of a work of art. The demand for beauty has gone even farther. Certainly one writer * of the past decade has said that in exact proportion as the beauty of form transcends the excellence of matter, will a work gain the admiration of posterity. It seems true that when a great thinker has disregarded conventional canons of expression his work as such has fallen into neglect, and his thought has passed into other hands more skilful to perpetuate it. Now it may as well be confessed at the outset of any study of Browning that he does not observe the methods which have been evolved by the years as most effective for the embodiment of thought. We must grant also that this is a conscious and deliberate act. A man who can command music like that in the Song from A Blot in the 'Scutcheon, or vigor like that in Cavalier Tunes, is not forced to express himself so blindly as in the last ten lines of the Invocation from The Ring and the Book, or so harshly as in Red Cotton Night-Cap Country. He chooses so to express himself. Many of his shorter poems not included in this selection, as, for example, Popularity, Life in a Love, Love in a Life, Another Way of Love, etc., are totally unintelligible to the man who reads Shakespeare with delight and Wordsworth with appreciation. But Browning knows English poetry as few of his critics know it. He knows, also, how to make smooth verse which shall tell its story to him who runs. Granting these facts, it is no more than fair that we treat with respect both the poet and his large following, and ask if our notions about art may not need reconstruction. Perhaps we have become both finical and lazy. Perhaps, too, we scarcely realize the novel conditions under which the poet of this century works. The knowledge, the experiences, the complicated emotions, the responsibilities accumulating in the life of the world since the days of Homer, are thrust into his arms. Is it wonder that he staggers under the burden, and that his speech comes haltingly from his lips?

* Dr. John Bascom, in his Philosophy of English Literature.

Another fact needs recall. Browning is not the calm high-priest of humanity, as was Shakespeare. He is rather a prophet. He has a new, strange message which he scarcely understands himself. But he must utter it. It may be that it will pass into the life of the world and be absorbed there, rather than find its way into the treasure-house of the world's art. But to this ultimate test at least it answers: it moves men. We may parody Browning's style, we may question the novelty of his thought, we may deny his artistic power; but the fact remains that a large number of men and women of his race to-day-many of whom do not belong to the Browning Society-find in him their greatest inspira. tion to high, divine, and noble thinking.

"And this I know: whether the one true light
Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite,
One flash of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright." *

SELECT POEMS OF ROBERT BROWNING.

Or from Browning some 'Pomegranate,' which, if cut deep down the middle,

Shows a heart within blood-tinctured, of a veined humanity.

ELIZABETH BARRETT (BROWNING).

I do heartily desire the spread of the study and the influence of Rob ert Browning; for, having lived some years with Chaucer and Shakspere, to try and know what a Man is, and what a Poet is, I declare my conviction that Browning is the manliest, the strongest, the lifefullest, the deepest, and thoughtfullest living poet, the one most needing earnest study, and the one most worthy of it.-F. J. FURNIVALL.

HERVÉ RIEL.

I.

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two,
Did the English fight the French-woe to France!
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter thro' the blue,
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pur-

sue,

Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance, With the English fleet in view.

II.

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'Twas the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase;

First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville:

Close on him fled, great and small,

Twenty-two good ships in all;

And they signalled to the place,

'Help the winners of a race!

Get us guidance, give us harbour, take us quick—or, quicker still,

Here's the English can and will!'

III.

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on

board;

15

'Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?' laughed they: