constitutionally deficient in what the Greeks called 'architektonike',
combination and disposition on a large scale. The measure of his power
as a constructive artist is given us in the poem in which the English
idylls may be said to culminate, namely, 'Enoch Arden'. 'In Memoriam'
and the 'Idylls of the King' have a sort of spiritual unity, but they
are a series of fragments tacked rather than fused together. It is the
same with 'Maud', and it is the same with 'The Princess'. His poems have
always a tendency to resolve themselves into a series of cameos: it is
only the short poems which have organic unity. A gift of felicitous and
musical expression which is absolutely marvellous; an instinctive
sympathy with what is best and most elevated in the sphere of ordinary
life, of ordinary thought and sentiment, of ordinary activity with
consummate representative power; a most rare faculty of seizing and
fixing in very perfect form what is commonly so inexpressible because so
impalpable and evanescent in emotion and expression; a power of catching
and rendering the charm of nature with a fidelity and vividness which
resemble magic; and lastly, unrivalled skill in choosing, repolishing
and remounting the gems which are our common inheritance from the past:
these are the gifts which will secure permanence for his work as long as
the English language lasts.

In his power of crystallising commonplaces he stands next to Pope, in
subtle felicity of expression beside Virgil. And, when he says of Virgil
that we find in his diction "all the grace of all the muses often
flowering in one lonely word," he says what is literally true of his own
work. As a master of style his place is in the first rank among English
classical poets. But his style is the perfection of art. His diction,
like the diction of Milton and Gray, resembles mosaic work. With a touch
here and a touch there, now from memory, now from unconscious
assimilation, inlaying here an epithet and there a phrase, adding,