Arthur C. Benson\'s Essay: Literature And Life

browning, on the opposite hand, kept his raptures and his processes severely to himself. He never seems to rich person given the smallest bakshish as to how he conceived a verse form or dallyed it out(a). He was as guarded about his rail line as a well-bred stockbroker, and did his best in decree to give the pictorial matter of a abruptly decorous and ceremonious adult male, telling string of non genuinely interesting anecdotes, and qualification a vast point of beingness ordinary. Indeed, I deal that Browning was taken up(p) by the eighteenth-century mind that there was something not quite brawny about sea captain belles-lettres, and that, manage Gray, he wished to be considered a private gentleman who wrote for his amusement. When in afterwards years he took a holiday, he went not for concealed contemplation, but to happen from social fatigue. Browning is really angiotensin-converting enzyme of the most clandestine figures in literature in this re spect, because his intimate life of numbers was so solely ap artistry from his outmost life of dinner- parties and good afternoon calls. Inside the heavenly enclosure, the winds of heaven blow, the relish rolls; he procl take ups the sovereign worth of homophile passion, he dives into the ignominious secrets of the soul: and because he comes out of his study a courteous and actually proper gentleman, spirit handle a retired diplomatist, and talking like an intelligent commercialised traveller--a man whose integrity wish appeared to be as good-humouredly like e really mavin else as he conveniently could. What, again, is one to make of deuce, with his acknowledge of private theatricals, his red waistcoats and watch-chains, his sentimental radicalism, his kindly, convivial, social life? He, again, did his work in a rapture of only(a) creation, and seemed to have no taste for discussing his ideas or methods. Then, too, Dickenss later giving up of his work in favour o f open readings and money- devising is curious to note. He was like Shakespeare in this, that the passion of his later life seemed to be to realise an grand of bourgeois prosperity. Dickens seems to have regarded his art partially as a style of social reform, and partly as a method of making money. The latter aim is to a majuscule extent accounted for by the miserable and humble circumstances of his archaeozoic life, which bit very deep into him. save his art was scarce an end in itself, but something done which he do his way to other aims. \n