“No motion has she now; no force,
 She neither hears nor sees,
 Roiled round in earth’s diurnal course
 With rocks and stones and trees.”

To Tennyson it brings the fundamental human home-sickness for familiar things.

“Ah, sad and strange as on dark summer dawns,
 The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
 To dying ears when unto dying eyes
 The casement slowly grows a glimmering square.”

It is an accent which wakes an echo in a thousand hearts.

(2)

While Tennyson, in his own special way and, so to speak, in collaboration with the spirit of the age, was carrying on the work of Romanticism on its normal lines, Browning was finding a new style and a new subject matter.  In his youth he had begun as an imitator of Shelley, and Pauline and Paracelsus remain to show what the influence of the “sun-treader” was on his poetry.  But as early as his second publication, Bells and Pomegranates, he had begun to speak for himself, and with Men and Women, a series of poems of amazing variety and brilliance, he placed himself unassailably in the first rank.  Like Tennyson’s, his genius continued high and undimmed while life was left him. Men and Women was followed by an extraordinary narrative poem, The Ring and the Book, and it by several volumes of scarcely less brilliance, the last of which appeared on the very day of his death.

Of the two classes into which, as we saw when we were studying Burns, creative artists can be divided, Browning belongs to that one which makes everything new for itself, and has in consequence to educate the readers by whom its work can alone be judged.  He was an innovator in nearly everything he did; he thought for himself; he wrote for himself, and in his own way.  And because he refused to follow ordinary modes of writing, he was and is still widely credited with being tortured and obscure.[7] The charge of obscurity is unfortunate because it tends to shut off from him a large class of readers for whom he has a sane and special and splendid message.

[Footnote 7:  The deeper causes of Browning’s obscurity have been detailed in Chapter iv. of this book.  It may be added for the benefit of the reader who fights shy on the report of it, that in nine cases out of ten, it arises simply from his colloquial method; we go to him expecting the smoothness and completeness of Tennyson; we find in him the irregularities, the suppressions, the quick changes of talk—­the clipped, clever talk of much idea’d people who hurry breathlessly from one aspect to another of a subject.]