Even the woman of his later lyrics soon ceases to be
flesh and blood. Keats let women alone, save
in Isabella, and all that is of womanhood in her is
derived from Boccaccio. Madeline is nothing but
a picture. It is curious that his remarkable
want of interest in the time in which he lived should
be combined with as great a want of interest in women,
as if the vivid life of any period in the history of
a people were bound up with the vivid life of women
in that period. When women awake no full emotion
in a poet, the life of the time, as in the case of
Keats, awakes little emotion in him. He will fly
to the past for his subjects. Moreover, it is
perhaps worth saying that when the poets cease to
write well about women, the phase of poetry they represent,
however beautiful it be, is beginning to decay.
When poetry is born into a new life, women are as
living in it as men. Womanhood became at once
one of its dominant subjects in Tennyson and Browning.
Among the new political, social, religious, philosophic
and artistic ideas which were then borne like torches
through England, the idea of the free development of
women was also born; and it carried with it a strong
emotion. They claimed the acknowledgment of their
separate individuality, of their distinct use and
power in the progress of the world. This was embodied
with extraordinary fulness in
Aurora Leigh,
and its emotion drove itself into the work of Tennyson
and Browning. How Tennyson treated the subject
in the
Princess is well known. His representation
of women in his other poems does not pass beyond a
few simple, well-known types both of good and bad
women. But the particular types into which the
variety of womanhood continually throws itself, the
quick individualities, the fantastic simplicities
and subtleties, the resolute extremes, the unconsidered
impulses, the obstinate good and evil, the bold cruelties
and the bold self-sacrifices, the fears and audacities,
the hidden work of the thoughts and passions of women
in the far-off worlds within them where their soul
claims and possesses its own desires—these
were beyond the power of Tennyson to describe, even,
I think, to conceive. But they were in the power
of Browning, and he made them, at least in lyric poetry,
a chief part of his work.
In women he touched great variety and great individuality;
two things each of which includes the other, and both
of which were dear to his imagination. With his
longing for variety of representation, he was not
content to pile womanhood up into a few classes, or
to dwell on her universal qualities. He took
each woman separately, marking out the points which
differentiated her from, not those which she shared
with, the rest of her sex. He felt that if he
dwelt only on the deep-seated roots of the tree of
womanhood, he would miss the endless play, fancy,
movement, interaction and variety of its branches,
foliage and flowers. Therefore, in his lyrical
work, he leaves out for the most part the simpler