Part 11 (1/2)

G.o.d, by G.o.d's own ways occult, May--doth, I will believe--bring back All wanderers. (ll. 1170-1172.)

Thus unity is attained, but with a suggestion of methods of attainment other than those indicated at the close of Section XIX. The main difference of intention between the two Sections would appear to be that whilst here (XX) also ultimate unity is to be achieved through the divine providence, yet something more is required of the individual believer than a pa.s.sive reliance on the a.s.surance of this future fusion of creeds. And further, the manifest and immediate duty being the discovery of the, for him, ”best way of wors.h.i.+p,” this once reached, he must rest satisfied with no merely personal acceptance: the benefits resultant from his own spiritual experiences are designed for a wider use, a more extended service of human fellows.h.i.+p; he, too, may seek to ”bring back wanderers to the single track.” Here again is perceptible one of Browning's prevailing ideas. Never (I believe) is he to be found advocating any vast corporate revolution for the amelioration of mankind: the advance of the race is to be secured through the advance of individual members.

VI. As a practical result of the foregoing conclusions follow (in Section XXII) a return to the Chapel, and an application to the special form of wors.h.i.+p therein celebrated, of the genial ”glow of benevolence” already kindling within the breast of the sometime critic. And here the dramatic character of the poem becomes perhaps more strikingly obvious than hitherto. By one or two able and characteristic strokes is suggested the egotistical temperament of the soliloquist, with its susceptibility to external influences, its inevitable tendency towards criticism. Even though he has, as he deems, learnt from the night's experience the valuable lesson of receiving ”in meekness” the mode of wors.h.i.+p simplest in form and most spiritual in character, yet the language employed in lines 1310-1315 is that of no advocate of a kindly tolerance, but of an orthodox and bigoted methodist. It is a part, so it would seem, of the dramatic purpose, and of the mental a.n.a.lysis of which Browning was so fond, to thus demonstrate to his readers how a reasoning and reflective being, possessed of a certain amount of intellectual alertness, should enrol himself amongst the members of a body whose pre-eminent characteristic to the unsympathizing spectator appears that of a narrow dogmatic exclusivism, combined with extreme intellectual limitations.

Nevertheless, in spite of practical result, very ably does the speaker in Section XXII theoretically define the essence of true wors.h.i.+p, the spirit of devotion. Whilst human nature remains untranslated, and man is possessed of physical perceptions, and of ratiocinative faculties, the nasal intonation, and logical and grammatical lapses of the preacher, though they may be condoned, can hardly be ignored. But to the seeker after truth, so ardent should be the yearning towards the attainment of the end, that all defects in the means should be cheerfully accepted. It is perhaps not easy to put the case strongly enough, without going too far on the other side, and ignoring the means absolutely, thus returning to the position, already renounced by the soliloquist in Section V, where man looks direct ”through Nature to Nature's G.o.d.” A condition which, whilst unquestionably the highest and most purely spiritual, would appear to be possible to a certain type of mind only, and that in moments of special illumination. To the average temperament might arise from such a system the danger lest, whilst dispensing with forms, the spirit should likewise be forgotten; and wors.h.i.+p should thus altogether cease. In accordance with the capacity for growth inherent in man's nature, with his creed, as with all else, must be development, if life is to be preserved. The means appointed for his instruction may not be always those in most complete adjustment with his inclinations; nevertheless let him not neglect those vouchsafed him so long as all tend, however indirectly, towards the attainment of the ultimate goal, the complete realization of Truth.

Seeking to gain for himself further knowledge of the Divine Will, let him not lose sight of the end in a too critical consideration of the means.

What avails the thirsty traveller the splendour of the marble drinking-cup, if so be that it is empty:

Better have knelt at the poorest stream That trickles in pain from the straitest rift! (ll. 1284-1285.)

To the question of main import advanced in the present instance,

Is there water or not to drink? (l. 1288.)

the latest comer to Zion Chapel replies in the affirmative; though he would fain wish

The flaws were fewer In the earthen vessel, holding treasure Which lies as safe in a golden ewer. (ll. 1300-1302.)

We are inclined to ask, might he not, too, have returned an affirmative answer in yet another relation, had he but regarded the celebrants of St.

Peter's in that spirit of tolerance with which he now condones the defects of the Methodist preacher: since, on his own showing, there prevails in Zion Chapel the jealous exclusivism resultant from spiritual pride. Was not some valuable residuum of truth to be found in Rome? Surely so. But had the soliloquist proved capable of giving this answer, with the change of personal character thus indicated, would have been transformed, also, the character of the entire poem.

The reason for his present choice he makes sufficiently clear. That form of creed shall be his which takes into account the complexity of human nature. The emotions (so he holds) alone received satisfaction at Rome; intellectual development being checked. At Gottingen the intellect was cultivated at the expense of the spiritual faculties. Now in the poverty and ignorance of Zion Chapel he believes himself to discern provision, however poor in quality, for all man's requirements and aspirations.

Immeasurably inferior to Rome in beauty of architectural form, in the impressiveness of its ritual; incomparably below Gottingen in intellectual attainment, it is yet in some sort superior to both alike. Superior to Rome in that it allows scope for the development of the intellectual capacity, coa.r.s.e and poor as is the quality of the mental pabulum offered by its minister. Superior to Gottingen in that the preacher would fain afford some satisfaction to the emotional as well as to the intellectual cravings of his congregation. To these poor ”ruins of humanity,” a personal Saviour is a necessity:

Something more substantial Than a fable, myth, or personification.

_Some one, not something_, who in the critical hour of life shall do for him

What no mere man shall, And stand confessed as the G.o.d of salvation. (ll. 1322-1325.)

Clearly to the speaker, in spite of the objectionable character of the surroundings, they secure a ”comfort”--

Which an empire gained, were a loss without. (ll. 1308-1309.)

Thus the choice is made in face of defects seemingly at first hopelessly repellant. And in leaving the soliloquist of _Christmas Eve_ amidst the Zion Chapel congregation, our conviction touching the future is based upon grounds amply justifiable; that he may in spiritual development outgrow the limits he has for the present a.s.signed himself. Since, despite the influences of prejudice and of bigotry yet remaining, he has already proved capable of seeking a position whence, in his own words, direct reference is made to Him ”Who head and heart alike discerns.” From such a position, progress, expansion, as the law of life becomes, not only possible, but inevitable, since the soul's outlook is at once freed from limitations by the transference of contemplation

From the gift ... to the giver, And from the cistern to the river, And from the finite to infinity, And from man's dust to G.o.d's divinity. (ll. 1012-1015.)

Such deductions as to the intention of _this_ poem are at least fully in accordance with those suggestions of theories which we have so far gathered from a consideration of other of Browning's works.

LECTURE V

CHRISTMAS EVE AND EASTER DAY (ii)

LECTURE V