To illustrate this, let us take Browning's "Saul." It is founded upon a very slight story in the Book of Kings to the effect that when Saul was afflicted with an evil spirit, a skilful musician was sought to charm away the demon, and the youthful David was chosen. Browning takes this theme, transfigures it by his imagination, and produces what is considered by some the greatest poem of the nineteenth century. Without necessarily subscribing to this judgment, let us study this poem which has called forth from some critics so much enthusiasm. Browning makes David the speaker in the monologue, and its occasion after the event, when he is "alone" with his sheep, endeavoring to realize what happened while playing before Saul, and what it meant. The poem begins with his arrival at the Israelitish camp, and Abner's kindly reception and indication to him of his duty. Browning isolates Saul in his tent, which no one dares approach. This stripling with his harp must, therefore, go into that tent alone. After kneeling and praying, he "runs over the sand burned to powder," and at the entrance to the tent again prays. Then he is "not afraid," but enters, calling out, "Here is David." Presently he sees "something more black than the blackness," arms on the cross-supports (note the cross). Now what can David, a youth, before the king, sing or say or do? He first plays "the tune all our sheep know," that is, he starts, as endeavor should ever start, upon the memory of some early victory. Possibly his first victory was the training of the sheep to obey his music. The winning of one victory gives courage for another. It is practically the only courage a human being can get. Hence, David tries the same song. He is not ashamed to trust his childhood's experiences. Then follows the tune by which he had charmed the "quails," the "crickets," and the "quick jerboa." Later experiences succeed, the tune of the "reapers," the "wine-song," the praise of the "dead man." Then follows "... the glad chant Of the marriage ..." and "... the chorus intoned As the Levites go up to the altar." Here he stops and receives his first response. "In the darkness Saul groaned." Then David pours forth the song of the perfection of the physical manhood of which Saul was the type. "'Oh, our manhood's prime vigour! No spirit feels waste, Not a muscle is stopped in its playing nor sinew unbraced. Oh, the wild joys of living! the leaping from rock up to rock,'" and calls him by name, "King Saul." Then he waits what may follow, as one at the climax of human endeavor pauses to see what has been accomplished. After a long shudder, the king's self was left "... standing before me, released and aware." what more could he do? "(For, awhile there was trouble within me.)"