ear the resilient undertone all through
the long slow poise of "The Ring and the Book." Where then is the full
splendour and rush of the tide, where its culminating reach and power?

I should say in "Men and Women"; and by "Men and Women" I mean not
merely the poems comprised in the collection so entitled, but all in the
"Dramatic Romances," "Lyrics," and the "Dramatis Personae," all the short
pieces of a certain intensity of note and quality of power, to be found
in the later volumes, from "Pacchiarotto" to "Asolando."

And this because, in the words of the poet himself when speaking of
Shelley, I prefer to look for the highest attainment, not simply the
high--and, seeing it, to hold by it. Yet I am not oblivious of the mass
of Browning's lofty achievement, "to be known enduringly among men,"--an
achievement, even on its secondary level, so high, that around its
imperfect proportions, "the most elaborated productions of ordinary art
must arrange themselves as inferior illustrations."

How am I to convey concisely that which it would take a volume to do
adequately--an idea of the richest efflorescence of Browning's genius in
these unfading blooms which we will agree to include in "Men and
Women"? How better--certainly it would be impossible to be more
succinct--than by the enumeration of the contents of an imagined volume,
to be called, say "Transcripts from Life"?

It would be to some extent, but not rigidly, arranged chronologically.
It would begin with that masterpiece of poetic concision, where a whole
tragedy is burned in upon the brain in fifty-six lines, "My Last
Duchess." Then would follow "In a Gondola," that haunting lyrical drama
_in petto_, where the lover is stabbed to death as his heart is
beating against that of his mistress; "Cristina," with its keen
introspection; those delightfully stirring pieces, the "Cavalier-Tunes,"
"Through the Metidja to Abd-el-Kadr," and "The Pied Piper of Hamelin";
"The Flower's Name"; "The Flight of the Duchess"; "The Tomb at St.
Praxed's," the poem which educed Ruskin's enthusiastic praise for its
marvellous apprehension of the spirit of the Middle Ages; "Pictor Ignotus,"
and "The Lost Leader." But as there is not space for individual detail, and
as many of the more important are spoken of elsewhere in this volume, I
must take the reader's acquaintance with the poems for granted. So,
following those first mentioned, there would come "Home Thoughts from
Abroad"; "Home Thoug