The unaccountable fascination of this case of mania, subinduced by epilepsy, is not to be resisted; Karshish would write, if he could, of more important matters than the madman of Bethany; he would record his discoveries in scalp-disease, describe the peculiar qualities of Judea's gum-tragacanth, and disclose the secret of those virtues derived from the mottled spiders of the tombs.

But the face of Lazarus, patient or joyous, the strange remoteness in his gaze, his singular valuations of objects and events, his great ardour, his great calm, his possession of some secret which gives new meanings to all things, the perfect logic of his irrationality, his unexampled gentleness and love--these are memories which the keen-sighted Arabian physician is unable to put by, so curious, so attaching a potency lies in the person of this man who holds that he was dead and rose again, Karshish has a certain sense of shame that he, a man learned in all the wisdom of his day, should be so deeply moved.

And yet how the thought of the secret possessed by this Judean maniac--it is the secret of Jesus--fills and expands the soul! The very God! think, Abib: dost thou think?
So, the All-Great were the All-Loving too-- So through the thunder comes a human voice Saying "O heart I made, a heart beats here! Face, my hands fashioned, see it in myself! Thou hast no power nor mayst conceive of mine, But love I gave thee, with myself to love, And thou must love me who have died for thee!" Science has at least something to consider in a thought so strangely potent.
A nineteenth-century sceptic's exposition of his Christian faith is the paradoxical subject of _Bishop Blougram's Apology_, and it is one which admirably suited that side of Browning's genius which leaned towards intellectual casuistry.

But the poem is not only skilful casuistry--and casuistry, let it be remembered, is not properly the art of defending falsehood but of determining truth,--it is also a character-study chosen from the age of doubt; a dramatic monologue with an appropriate _mise en scene_; a display of fence and thrust which as a piece of art and wit rewards an intelligent spectator.

That Cardinal Wiseman sat for the Bishop's portrait is a matter of little consequence; the merit of the study is independent of any connection with an individual; it answers delightfully the cynical--yet not wholly cynical--question: How, for our gain in both worlds, can we best economise our scepticism and make a little belief go far ?[69] The nineteenth century is not precisely the age of the martyrs, or, if we are to find them, we must in general turn to politics and to science; Bishop Blougram does not pique himself on a genius for martyrdom; if he fights with beasts, it is on this occasion with a very small one, a lynx of the literary tribe, and in the arena of his own dining-room over the after-dinner wine.