MR. BROWNING'S LAST POEM.*

Fr is an obvious criticism on Mr. Browning's last poem to say that it is the work of a poet, but by no means a poem. It is not that the subject is unsuitable ; verse is the best, it may even be said, from one point of view, the only way of treating it. But Mr. Browning permits the passion for analysing character so to dominate him, that he becomes careless of things essential to his art. Sweetness, brightness, grace, melody, eloquence are either absent, or present at but the rarest intervals. Here and there he condescends to give us a glimpse of them. Once in some twenty pages or so comes a beautiful line, even a beautiful passage, though seldom this latter without some harshness to blot it. The reader will catch at it, read it aloud, dwell on it with a delight all the greater, because there is so little in the main course of the argument, full of vigour and thought as it is, to call it forth. The first few pages are richer in such promise than what follow. When Balaustion, flying from conquered Athens, wishes that some noble and tragical end had overtaken the city, the thought

is finely put :—

" Doomed to die, Fire should have flung a passion of embrace About thee till, resplendently inarmed, (Temple by temple folded to his breast, All thy white wonder fainting out in ash). Some vaporous sigh of soul had lightly 'soaped, And so the immortals bade Athenai back ! "

Elsewhere they are rare, but they are worth looking for. Such is Euripides' description of the occasional glimpses of nobility in his great assailant's work :-

"Murk the marsh,

Yet where a solitary marble block Blanches the gloom, there let the eagle perch."

But there is no need to prove that Mr. Browning can write beau- tiful verse. We can only regret that he does not care to write it more frequently.

Passing from the purely poetical aspect of the work, we come to consider its value as a contribution to the history of literature and morals. Here, again, one obvious criticism occurs. We have been lately warned- by an eminent authority not to speak of Mr. Browning as obscure. That be is difficult, even very difficult, can- not be questioned. The first rapid perusal by which we com- monly endeavour to gain a general impression of a work left us in this case with but little result. A second more careful read- ing was more satisfactory, and that to an unexpected degree, very few passages remaining unintelligible, and these few, we can readily believe, being peovoliertz atnierolet. Mr. Browning knows his subject well. His allusions are brief and rapid, and it is the fault of his readers if they are not understood. And yet it might be policy, if it is not duty, to consult more than our author is inclined to do the too common imbecility and ignor- ance of the human race. A certain amount of difficulty is due, indeed, to the very nature of the subject. The comedian's "apology" may almost be said to be an apology in the colloquial sense of the word. His cause does not admit of an orderly, cogent, and lucid defence. He wavers, he excuses himself, he quali- fies and explains. His argument seems to be penetrated with a certain sense of confusion and inconsistency, which is in striking contrast with the conscious strength and consequent clearness of Balaustion's reply.

The plot of the story is this : Balaustion and her husband, whom the poet skilfully introduces as the "man of Phocis," famous in the story of Lysander's capture of Athens, are hastening to Rhodes. He writes at her dictation the tale of what had happened on the night of their hearing the news of the death of Euripides. That very day Aristophanes had won with his comedy of the

* Aristophanes' Apology, including a Transcript from Euripides; being the Last Adventure of Balaustion. By Hobert Browning. London: Smith, Elder, t Co. 1875. Thesmophoriazusx, and the dramatist, with his noisy crew, fresh from the Archon's feast, thrusts himself into their company. Here is the portrait of the man, a masterly sketch :— "There stood in person Aristophanes,-

And no ignoble presence ! On the bulge

Of the clear baldness,—all his head one brow,—

True, the veins swelled, blue network, and there surged A red from cheek to temple,—then retired,

As if the dark-leaved chaplet damped a flame,—

Wan never nursed by temperance or health.

But huge the eyeballs rolled black native fire, Imperiously triumphant; nostrils wide Waited their incense ; while the pureed mouth's pout Aggressive, while the beak supreme above, While the head, face, nay, pillared throat thrown back,

Beard whitening under like a vinous foam,— These made a glory, of such insolence—

I thought,—such domineering deity Hephaistoa might have carved to cut the brine For his gay brother's prow, imbrue that path Which, purpling, recognised tho conqueror."

The news of the day, which Aristophanes also has heard, suggests the subject of discourse. Euripides had been fiercely assailed by the comic poet ; to Balaustion he was the first of singers and teachers. She assails the assailant, whose genius indeed she does not fail to recognise ; he defends himself. His art of comedy, its intrinsic worth and utility, the use which he himself had made of it, his advocacy of peace, his conservatism of poli- tics and religion, the special causes which had armed against Euripides,—these points and others are taken up in turn. Our impression is that, on the whole, Mr. Browning has realised with singular force and vividness the mental attitude of the great dramatist. T he champion of reaction and intellectual immobility, who was yet the man of consummate genius, the stout defender of ancient faith and morals, yet indulging in the wildest licence of speech about things divine and human, the very type of a race which divided as they never have been divided elsewhere religion and righteousness, Aristophanes presents contrasts, it may be almost said contradictions, which Mr. Browning apprehends and draws out very skilfully. It is difficult to give by extracts any- thing like an adequate or even a fair idea of the argument, continuous and singularly subtle as it is. Here the comic poet defends his choice of an instrument against tragedy

Things ailing thus—I ask, What cure ? Cut, thrust, hack, hew at heap-on-heaped Abomination with the exquisite Palaistra—tool of polished tragedy ?

'Erectheus' shall harangue Amphiktuon, And incidentally drop word of weight On justice, righteousness, so turn aside The audience from attacking Sicily !— The more that Chores, after he recounts How Phrixos rode the ram, the far-famed Fleece, Shall add—at last fall of grave dancing foot- ' Aggression never yet was helped by Zeus !'

That helps or hinders Alkibiades?

As well expect, should Pheidias carve Zeus's self

And set him up, some half-a-mile away.

His frown would frighten sparrows from your field Eagles may recognise their lord, belike, But as for vulgar sparrows,—change the god, And plant some big Priapos with a pole !

I wield the Comic Weapon rather,—hate!"

And this is his defence of his own method of using it with re- ference to Euripides :— "Euripides,—

Well, I acknowledge ! Every word is false, Looked close at ; but stand distant and stare through, All's absolute, indubitable truth Behind lies, truth which only lies declare!

What way did he do harm?

Through word or deed ? Through word ? With word, wage war

To the wise he would have used legitimate argument, but with the multitude what would that avail?—

" I ply the populace

With just such word as leavens their whole lump To the right ferment for my purpose. They Arbitrate properly between us both?

They weigh my answer with his argument; Match quip with quibble, wit with eloquence ? All they attain to understand is,—blank ! Two adversaries differ! which is right And which is wrong, none takes on him to say, Since both are unintelligible. Pooh ! Swear my foe's mother vended herbs she stole, They fall a laughing! Add,—his household drudge Of all work justifies that office well ;

Kisses the wife, composing him the play ; They grin at whom they gaped in wonderment, And go off.-4 Was he such a sorry scrub ? This other seems to know ! We praised too fast!' Why, then, my lies have done the work of truth, Since scrub,' improper designation, means Exactly what the proper argument-

Had such been comprehensible—proposed

To proper audience—were I graced with such—

Would properly result in; so your friend Gets an impartial credit on his verse,— ' The tongue swears, bat the soul remains unswom.' "

Here, again, is part of his general summing-up :— " And what's my teaching, but,—accept the old, Contest the strange ! acknowledge work that's done, Misdoubt men who have still their work to do !- Religions, laws, and customs, poetries,

Are old? So much achieved victorious truth! Each work was product of a life-time, wrung From each man by an adverse world; for why? He worked, destroying other older work Which the world loved, and so was loth to lose ; Whom the world beat in battle,—dust and ash ! Who beat the world, left 'work in evidence, And wears its crown till new men live new lives, And fight new fights, and triumph in their turn.

Away pretence to some exclusive sphere, Cloud-nourishing a sole selected few, Fume-fed with self-superiority!

I stand up for the common, coarse-as-day Existence,—stamp and ramp with heel and hoof, On solid vulgar life, you fools disown !

I know the soul, too, how the spark ascends, And how it drops apace and dies away. I am your poet-peer, man thrice your match! I, too, can lead an airy life when dead, Fly like Binesias when I'm cloud-ward bound; But here, no death shall mix with life it mars."

We wish that we could give some specimen of Ba]austion's defence of her hero-poet, a defence which rises more than once into a truly noble eloquence. As it is, we must postpone to another occasion a part, in some respects the most satisfactory part, of Mr. Browning's work, the "Transcript of Euripides,"—the "Hercules Furens," which Balaustion, challenged by her adversary to give "direct defence and not oblique" of her poet, proceeds to read. A poet translating a poet is a benefit for which we can hardly be sufficiently thankful, and to which we shall do our best to render due acknowledgment.