Religious Belief of Browning

There was little or no dogmatism in Browning’s religious faith. He was at least a Theist. “He believed in Soul, and was very sure of God.” Whether the orthodox would consider him a Christian in the sense of the old churches is a matter we cannot discu here; in the widest sense, however, he has given abundant evidence that he was a Christian. Those who maintain him to be a believer in the Divinity of Christ ground their opinion on such poems as A Death in the Desert and The Epistle of Karshish —which, neverthele , it is objected, are merely dramatic utterances, and cannot fairly be held to set forth the poet’s own convictions; to such an opponent I should be content to point to the following letter, published just after the poet’s death in The Nonconformist , and reprinted in the Transactions of the Browning Society. It was written by Browning in 1876 to a lady, who, believing herself to be dying, wrote to thank him for the help she had derived from his poems, mentioning particularly Rabbi Ben Ezra and Abt Vogler , and giving expre ion to the deep satisfaction of her mind that one so highly gifted with genius should hold, as Browning held, to the great truths of our religion, and to a belief in the glorious unfolding and crowning of life in the world beyond the grave:—“ 19, Warwick Crescent, W., May 11th, 1876. Dear Friend,—It would ill become me to waste a word on my own feelings, except inasmuch as they can be common to us both in such a situation as you described yours to be—and which, by sympathy, I can make mine by the anticipation of a few years at most. It is a great thing—the greatest—that a human being should have pa ed the probation of life, and sum up its experience in a witne to the power and love of God. I dare congratulate you. All the help I can offer, in my poor degree, is the a urance that I see ever more reason to hold by the same hope—and that, by no means in ignorance of what has been advanced to the contrary; and for your sake I would wish it to be true that I had so much of ‘genius’ as to permit the testimony of an especially privileged insight to come in aid of the ordinary argument. For I know I myself have been aware of the communication of something more subtle than a ratiocinative proce , when the convictions of ‘genius’ have thrilled my soul to its depth, as when Napoleon, shutting up the New Testament, said of Christ—‘Do you know that I am an understander of men? Well, He was no man!’ (‘Savez-vous que je me connais en hommes? Eh bien, celui-là ne fut pas un homme.’) Or as when Charles Lamb, in a gay fancy with some friends as to how he and they would feel if the greatest of the dead were to appear suddenly in flesh and blood once more—on the final suggestion, ‘And if Christ entered this room?’ changed his manner at once, and stuttered out—as his manner was when moved, ‘You see—if Shakespeare entered, we should all rise; if He appeared, we must kneel.’ Or, not to multiply instances, as when Dante wrote what I will transcribe from my wife’s Testament—wherein I recorded it fourteen years ago—‘Thus I believe, thus I affirm, thus I am certain it is, that from this life I shall pa to another better, there, where that lady lives, of whom my soul was enamoured.’ Dear Friend, I may have wearied you in spite of your good will. God ble you, sustain, and receive you! Reciprocate this ble ing with yours affectionately, Robert Browning .” The Agnostic school is indefatigable in endeavouring to secure Browning as a great representative of their “know-nothingism,” whatever that may be. They might as reasonably claim Robert Browning on the side of Agnosticism as John Henry Newman on the side of Atheism, which also certain wiseacres in their cra hebetude or vain affectation have pretended to do.