oddities, but should, in the first instance at all events, attempt to
regard his whole scope and range; to form some estimate, if we can, of
his general purport and effect, asking ourselves, for this purpose,
such questions as these: How are we the better for him? Has he
quickened any passion, lightened any burden, purified any taste? Does
he play any real part in our lives? When we are in love, do we whisper
him in our lady's ear? When we sorrow, does he ease our pain? Can he
calm the strife of mental conflict? Has he had anything to say, which
wasn't twaddle, on those subjects which, elude analysis as they may,
and defy demonstration as they do, are yet alone of perennial
interest--

'On man, on nature, and on human life,'

on the pathos of our situation, looking back on to the irrevocable and
forward to the unknown? If a poet has said, or done, or been any of
these things to an appreciable extent, to charge him with obscurity is
both folly and ingratitude.

But the subject may be pursued further, and one may be called upon to
investigate this charge with reference to particular books or poems.
In Browning's case this fairly may be done; and then another crop of
questions arises, such as: What is the book about, _i. e._, with
what subject does it deal, and what method of dealing does it employ?
Is it didactical, analytical, or purely narrative? Is it content to
describe, or does it aspire to explain? In common fairness these
questions must be asked and answered, before we heave our critical
half-bricks at strange poets. One task is of necessity more difficult
than another. Students of geometry, who have pushed their researches
into that fascinating science so far as the fifth proposition of the