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Perhaps the best story, however, of all the cycle of Sordello legends is that which is related ofDouglas Jerrold. He was recovering from an illness; and having obtained permission for the firsttime to read a little during the day, he picked up a book from a pile beside the bed and beganSordello. No sooner had he done so than he turned deadly pale, put down the book, and said, "MyGod I'm an idiot. My health is restored, but my mind's gone. I can't understand two consecutivelines of an English poem." He then summoned his family and silently gave the book into theirhands, asking for their opinion on the poem; and as the shadow of perplexity gradually passed overtheir faces, he heaved a sigh of relief and went to sleep. These stories, whether accurate or no, doundoubtedly represent the very peculiar reception accorded to Sordello, a reception which, as I havesaid, bears no resemblance whatever to anything in the way of eulogy or condemnation that had everbeen accorded to a work of art before. There had been authors whom it was fashionable to boast ofadmiring and authors whom it was fashionable to boast of despising; but with Sordello enters intoliterary history the Browning of popular badinage, the author whom it is fashionable to boast of notunderstanding.Putting aside for the moment the literary qualities which are to be found in the poem, when itbecomes intelligible, there is one question very relevant to the fame and character of Browningwhich is raised by Sordello when it is considered, as most people consider it, as hopelesslyunintelligible. It really throws some light upon the reason of Browning's obscurity. The ordinarytheory of Browning's obscurity is to the effect that it was a piece of intellectual vanity indulged inmore and more insolently as his years and fame increased. There are at least two very decisiveobjections to this popular explanation. In the first place, it must emphatically be said for Browningthat in all the numerous records and impressions of him throughout his long and very public life, there is not one iota of evidence that he was a man who was intellectually vain. The evidence isentirely the other way. He was vain of many things, of his physical health, for example, and evenmore of the physical health which he contrived to bestow for a certain period upon his wife. Fromthe records of his early dandyism, his flowing hair and his lemon-coloured gloves, it is probableenough that he was vain of his good looks. He was vain of his masculinity, his knowledge of theworld, and he was, I fancy, decidedly vain of his prejudices, even, it might be said, vain of being vainof them. But everything is against the idea that he was much in the habit of thinking of himself inhis intellectual aspect. In the matter of conversation, for example, some people who liked him foundhim genial, talkative, anecdotal, with a certain strengthening and sanative quality in his mere bodilypresence. Some people who did not like him found him a mere frivolous chatterer, afflicted with badmanners.