he thoughts and opinions of their speakers. _Bishop
Blougram's Apology_ introduces a new element, the casuistical. The
Bishop's Apology is, literally, an _apologia_, a speech in defence of
himself, in which the aim is to confound an adversary, not to state the
truth. This form, intellectual rather than emotional, argumentative more
than dramatic, has had, from this time forward, a considerable
attraction for Browning, and it is responsible for some of his hardest
work, such as _Fifine at the Fair_ and _Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau_.

_Bishop Blougram's Apology_ represents the after-dinner talk of a great
Roman Catholic dignitary. It is addressed to Mr. Gigadibs, a young and
shallow literary man, who poses as free-thinker and as critic of the
Bishop's position. Mr. Gigadibs' implied opinion is, that a man of
Blougram's intellect and broad views cannot, with honesty, hold and
teach Roman Catholic dogma; that his position is anomalous and unideal.
Blougram retorts with his voluminous and astonishingly clever "apology."
In this apology we trace three distinct elements. First, there is a
substratum of truth, truth, that is, in the abstract; then there is an
application of these true principles to his own case and conduct, an
application which is thoroughly unjustifiable--

"He said true things, but called them by wrong names--"

but which serves for an ingenious, and apparently, as regards Gigadibs,
a triumphant, defence; finally, there is the real personal element, the
man as he is. We are quite at liberty to suppose, even if we were not
bound to suppose, that after all Blougram's defence is merely or partly
ironical, and that he is not the contemptible creature he would be if we
took him quite seriously. It is no secret that Blougram himself is, in
the main, modelled after and meant for Cardinal Wiseman, who, it is
said, was the writer of a good-humoured review of the poem in the
Catholic journal, _The Rambler_ (January, 1856). The supple, nervous
strength and swiftness of the blank verse is, in its way, as fine as the
qualities we have observed in the other monologues: there is a splendid
"go" in it, a vast capacity for business; the verse is literally alive
with meaning, packed with thought, instinct with wit and irony; and not
this only, but starred with passages of exquisite charm, such as that on
"how some actor played Death on the stage," or that more famous one:--

"Just when we're safest, there's a sun