Martin walked down-stairs after the war correspondent, who preceded him with great majesty. The colonel following, they left the Rowdy Journal office and walked forth into the streets: Martin feeling doubtful whether he ought to kick the colonel for having presumed to speak to him, or whether it came within the bounds of possibility that he and his establishment could be among the boasted usages of that regenerated land.

It was clear that Colonel Diver, in the security of his strong position, and in his perfect understanding of the public sentiment, cared very little what Martin or anybody else thought about him. His high-spiced wares were made to sell, and they sold; and his thousands of readers could as rationally charge their delight in filth upon him, as a glutton can shift upon his cook the responsibility of his beastly excess. Nothing would have delighted the colonel more than to be told that no such man as he could walk in high success the streets of any other country in the world: for that would only have been a logical assurance to him of the correct adaptation of his labours to the prevailing taste, and of his being strictly and peculiarly a national feature of America.

From Martin Chuzzlewit, Chapter XVI.

T

ROBERT BROWNING (1812-1889)

"Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the

first was made."

HESE opening lines of Rabbi ben Ezra and the short poem

Prospice, give Browning's philosophy of life. He was ever a fighter with the firm conviction that Victory would be the reward of the brave. Furthermore, he was an optimist looking forward to the future with the anticipation that it would show a marked improvement over the past. As Tennyson taught Victorian England faith, so Browning taught her courage.

Unfortunately Browning has never been read so widely as he should have been because of the obscurity of his style. He poured forth his ideas without restraint and without thinking of his readers. Consequently his poetry is often unpoetical and diffuse; in some respects it resembles involved prose. Sometimes the reader wonders if he knew what he wanted to say, for it is evident that he did not pause for consideration. He never attained the popularity of Tennyson because he was too far removed intellectually from his contemporaries.

Nevertheless to those who have read his poems he has given a valuable message. He has taught them, and he can still teach the business man, that success is to be gained through a careful study of failures. By drawing a series of characters with a dramatic touch in some respects comparable to that of Shakespeare, he has shown us how some gained ultimate success and others missed it. In the Shop Browning portrayed the business man whose soul was stunted by his business. To this man money in his purse was more important than the satisfaction of his customers. His goal was the "money-chink," which had stunted his life.

PROSPICE

Fear death?-to feel the fog in my throat,

The mist in my face,

When the snows begin, and the blasts denote
I am nearing the place,

The power of the night, the press of the storm,
The post of the foe;

Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form,
Yet the strong man must go:

For the journey is done and the summit attained,
And the barriers fall,

Tho' a battle's to fight ere the guerdon be gained, The reward of it all.

I was ever a fighter, so-one fight more,

The best and the last!

I would hate that death bandaged my eyes, and for

bore,

And bade me creep past.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers The heroes of old,

Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life's arrears Of pain, darkness and cold.

For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minute's at end,

And the elements rage, the fiend-voices that rave,

Shall dwindle, shall blend,

Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast,

O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!

SHOP

I

So friend, your shop was all your house!

Its front, astonishing the street,
Invited view from man and mouse
To what diversity of treat
Behind its glass-the single sheet!

II

What gimcracks, genuine Japanese:
Gape-jaw and goggle-eye, the frog;
Dragons, owls, monkeys, beetles, geese;
Some crush-nosed, human-hearted dog:
Queer names, too, such a catalogue!

III

I thought "And he who owns the wealth
Which blocks the window's vastitude,
-Ah, could I peep at him by stealth
Behind his ware, pass shop, intrude
On house itself, what scenes were viewed!

IV

"If wide and showy thus the shop,
What must the habitation prove?
The true house with no name a-top-
The mansion, distant one remove,
Once get him off his traffic groove!

V

"Pictures he likes, or books perhaps;
And as for buying most and best,
Commend me to these City chaps!
Or else he's social, takes his rest
On Sundays, with a Lord for guest.

VI

"Some suburb-palace, parked about
And gated grandly, built last year:
The four-mile walk to keep off gout;
Or big seat sold by bankrupt peer:
But then he takes the rail, that's clear.

VII

"Or, stop! I wager, taste selects

Some out o' the way, some all unknown

Retreat: the neighbourhood suspects

Little that he who rambles lone

Makes Rothschild tremble on his throne!"

VIII

Nowise! Nor Mayfair residence

Fit to receive and entertain,—

Nor Hampstead villa's kind defence

From noise and crowd, from dust and drain,— Nor country-box was soul's domain!

IX

Nowise! At back of all that spread
Of merchandize, woe's me, I find
A hole i' the wall where, heels by head,