If
we are so affected by _hearing_ the Ninth Symphony, what must have
been the sensations of Beethoven at its birth? When Haendel wrote the
Hallelujah Chorus, he declared that he saw the heavens opened, and
the Son of God sitting in glory, and I think he spoke the truth.
After Thackeray had written a certain passage in _Vanity Fair_, he
rushed wildly about the room, shouting "That's Genius!"
Now no man in the history of literature has been more reticent than
Browning in describing his emotions after virtue had passed out of
him. He never talked about his poetry if he could help it; and the
hundreds of people who met him casually met a fluent and pleasant
conversationalist, who gave not the slightest sign of ever having
been on the heights. We know, for example, that on the third day of
January, 1852, Browning wrote in his Paris lodgings to the
accompaniment of street omnibuses the wonderful poem _Childe Roland_:
what a marvellous day that must have been in his spiritual life! In
what a frenzy of poetic passion must have passed the hours when he
saw those astounding visions, and heard the blast of the horn in the
horrible sunset! He must have been inspired by the very demon of
poetry.
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