Life and Letters of Robert Browning [21]
have still to notice another, and a more mistaken view
of the possibilities of Mr. Browning's life. It has been recently stated,
doubtless on the authority of some words of his own,
that the Church was a profession to which he once felt himself drawn.
But an admission of this kind could only refer to that period of his childhood
when natural impulse, combined with his mother's teaching and guidance,
frequently caused his fancy and his feelings to assume a religious form.
From the time when he was a free agent he ceased to be
even a regular churchgoer, though religion became more, rather than less,
an integral part of his inner life; and his alleged fondness
for a variety of preachers meant really that he only listened
to those who, from personal association or conspicuous merit,
were interesting to him. I have mentioned Canon Melvill as one of these;
the Rev. Thomas Jones was, as will be seen, another.
In Venice he constantly, with his sister, joined the congregation
of an Italian minister of the little Vaudois church there.*
--
* Mr. Browning's memory recalled a first and last effort at preaching,
inspired by one of his very earliest visits to a place of worship.
He extemporized a surplice or gown, climbed into an arm-chair
by way of pulpit, and held forth so vehemently that
his scarcely more than baby sister was frightened and began to cry;
whereupon he turned to an imaginary presence, and said,
with all the sternness which the occasion required,
`Pew-opener, remove that child.'
--
It would be far less surprising if we were told, on sufficient authority,
that he had been disturbed by hankerings for the stage.
He was a passionate admirer of good acting, and would walk from London
to Richmond and back again to see Edmund Kean when he was performing there.
We know how Macready impressed him, though the finer genius of Kean
became very apparent to his retrospective judgment of the two;
and it was impossible to see or hear him, as even an old man,
in some momentary personation of one of Shakespeare's characters,
above all of Richard III., and not feel that a great actor
had been lost in him.
So few professions were thought open to gentlemen in Robert Browning's
eighteenth year, that his father's acquiescence in that which he had chosen
might seem a matter scarcely less of necessity than of kindness.
But we must seek the kindness not only in this first, almost inevitable,
assent to his son's becoming a writer, but in the subsequent
unfailing readiness to support him in his literary career.
`Paracelsus', `Sordello', and the whole of `Bells and Pomegranates'
were published at his father's expense, and, incredible as it appears,
brought no return to him. This was vividly present to Mr. Browning's mind
in what Mrs. Kemble so justly defines as those `remembering days'
which are the natural prelude to the forgetting ones.
He declared, in the course of these, to a friend, that for it alone
he owed more to his father than to anyone else in the world.
Words to this effect, spoken in conversation with his sister,
have since, as it was right they should, found their way into print.
The more justly will the world interpret any incidental admission
he may ever have made, of intellectual disagreement
between that father and himself.
When the die was cast, and young Browning was definitely to adopt literature
as his profession, he qualified himself for it by reading and digesting
the whole of Johnson's Dictionary. We cannot be surprised
to hear this of one who displayed so great a mastery of words,
and so deep a knowledge of the capacities of the English language.
Chapter 5
1833-1835
`Pauline' -- Letters to Mr. Fox -- Publication of the Poem;
chief Biographical and Literary Characteristics --
Mr. Fox's Review in the `Monthly Repository'; other Notices --
Russian Journey -- Desired diplomatic Appointment --
Minor Poems; first Sonnet; their Mode of Appearance -- `The Trifler' --
M. de Ripert-Monclar -- `Paracelsus' -- Letters to
of the possibilities of Mr. Browning's life. It has been recently stated,
doubtless on the authority of some words of his own,
that the Church was a profession to which he once felt himself drawn.
But an admission of this kind could only refer to that period of his childhood
when natural impulse, combined with his mother's teaching and guidance,
frequently caused his fancy and his feelings to assume a religious form.
From the time when he was a free agent he ceased to be
even a regular churchgoer, though religion became more, rather than less,
an integral part of his inner life; and his alleged fondness
for a variety of preachers meant really that he only listened
to those who, from personal association or conspicuous merit,
were interesting to him. I have mentioned Canon Melvill as one of these;
the Rev. Thomas Jones was, as will be seen, another.
In Venice he constantly, with his sister, joined the congregation
of an Italian minister of the little Vaudois church there.*
--
* Mr. Browning's memory recalled a first and last effort at preaching,
inspired by one of his very earliest visits to a place of worship.
He extemporized a surplice or gown, climbed into an arm-chair
by way of pulpit, and held forth so vehemently that
his scarcely more than baby sister was frightened and began to cry;
whereupon he turned to an imaginary presence, and said,
with all the sternness which the occasion required,
`Pew-opener, remove that child.'
--
It would be far less surprising if we were told, on sufficient authority,
that he had been disturbed by hankerings for the stage.
He was a passionate admirer of good acting, and would walk from London
to Richmond and back again to see Edmund Kean when he was performing there.
We know how Macready impressed him, though the finer genius of Kean
became very apparent to his retrospective judgment of the two;
and it was impossible to see or hear him, as even an old man,
in some momentary personation of one of Shakespeare's characters,
above all of Richard III., and not feel that a great actor
had been lost in him.
So few professions were thought open to gentlemen in Robert Browning's
eighteenth year, that his father's acquiescence in that which he had chosen
might seem a matter scarcely less of necessity than of kindness.
But we must seek the kindness not only in this first, almost inevitable,
assent to his son's becoming a writer, but in the subsequent
unfailing readiness to support him in his literary career.
`Paracelsus', `Sordello', and the whole of `Bells and Pomegranates'
were published at his father's expense, and, incredible as it appears,
brought no return to him. This was vividly present to Mr. Browning's mind
in what Mrs. Kemble so justly defines as those `remembering days'
which are the natural prelude to the forgetting ones.
He declared, in the course of these, to a friend, that for it alone
he owed more to his father than to anyone else in the world.
Words to this effect, spoken in conversation with his sister,
have since, as it was right they should, found their way into print.
The more justly will the world interpret any incidental admission
he may ever have made, of intellectual disagreement
between that father and himself.
When the die was cast, and young Browning was definitely to adopt literature
as his profession, he qualified himself for it by reading and digesting
the whole of Johnson's Dictionary. We cannot be surprised
to hear this of one who displayed so great a mastery of words,
and so deep a knowledge of the capacities of the English language.
Chapter 5
1833-1835
`Pauline' -- Letters to Mr. Fox -- Publication of the Poem;
chief Biographical and Literary Characteristics --
Mr. Fox's Review in the `Monthly Repository'; other Notices --
Russian Journey -- Desired diplomatic Appointment --
Minor Poems; first Sonnet; their Mode of Appearance -- `The Trifler' --
M. de Ripert-Monclar -- `Paracelsus' -- Letters to