To this scientific and metaphysical side Browning adds, as has also already been pointed out, a mystical side based upon feeling. His revelations of divinity do not come by means of self-induced trances, as Tennyson's seem to have come, but through the mystery of feeling. This mystical state seems to have been his habitual one, if we may judge by its prominence in his poetry. He occasionally descends to the realm of reason, as he has in "La Saisiaz," but the true plane of his existence is up among the exaltations of aspiration and love. His cosmic sense is a sense of God as Love, and is the quality most characteristic of the man. It is like, though perhaps not identical with, the mysticism of Whitman, which seems to have been an habitual state. He writes: "There is, apart from mere intellect, in the make-up of every superior human identity, a wondrous something that realizes without argument, frequently without what is called education (though I think it the goal and apex of all education deserving the name), an intuition of the absolute balance, in time and space, of the whole of this multifariousness, this revel of fools, and incredible make-believe and general unsettledness we call _the world_; a soul-sight of that divine clue and unseen thread which holds the whole congeries of things, all history and time, and all events, however trivial, however momentous, like a leashed dog in the hand of the hunter." This mystic mood of Browning's which underlies his whole work--even a work like "The Ring and the Book," where evil in various forms is rampant and seems for the time being to conquer--is nowhere more fully, and at the same time more concisely, expressed than in his poem "Reverie," one of his last, which ends with a full revelation of this mystical feeling, from which the less inspired reasoning of "La Saisiaz" is a descent: "Even as the world its life, So have I lived my own-- Power seen with Love at strife, That sure, this dimly shown-- Good rare and evil rife "Whereof the effect be--faith That, some far day, were found Ripeness in things now rathe, Wrong righted, each chain unbound, Renewal born out of scathe. "Why faith--but to lift the load, To leaven the lump, where lies Mind prostrate through knowledge owed To the loveless Power it tries To withstand, how vain! In flowed "Ever resistless fact: No more than the passive clay Disputes the potter's act, Could the whelmed mind disobey Knowledge the cataract. "But, perfect in every part, Has the potter's moulded shape, Leap of man's quickened heart, Throe of his thought's escape, Stings of his soul which dart, "Through the barrier of flesh, till keen She climbs from the calm and clear, Through turbidity all between From the known to the unknown here, Heaven's 'Shall be' from Earth's 'Has been'?