Contemporary criticism of "Aurora Leigh," which was certainly a departure both in form and matter from the accepted standards, was, on the whole, just. _The Quarterly Review_ in 1862 said of it: "This 'Aurora Leigh' is a great poem. It is a wonder of art. It will live. No large audience will it have, but it will have audience; and that is more than most poems have. To those who know what poetry is and in what struggles it is born--how the great thoughts justify themselves--this work will be looked upon as one of the wonders of the age." Mrs. Browning resembles her husband in the fact that she does not fit into the main line of evolution of the romantic school, but is an individual manifestation of the romantic spirit, showing almost as great freedom from the trammels of accepted romanticism as Browning does. The writer of the century whose experience as a novelist almost paralleled that of Browning as poet was Meredith. Because of his psychological analysis and the so-called obscurity of his style, he waited many years for recognition and finally was accepted as one of the most remarkable novelists of the age. His poetry, showing similar tendencies, and overshadowed by his novels, has not yet emerged into the light of universal appreciation. One finds it even ignored altogether in the most recent books of English literature, yet he is the author of one of the most remarkable series of sonnets in the English language, "Modern Love," presenting, as it does, a vivid picture of domestic decadence which forms a strange contrast to Rossetti's sonnets, "The House of Life," indicating how many and various have been the forces at work during the nineteenth century in the disintegrating and molding of social ideals. Meredith writes of "Hiding the Skeleton". "At dinner she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost. With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball: It is in truth a most contagious game; _Hiding the Skeleton_ shall be its name. Such play as this the devils might appall, But here's the greater wonder; in that we, Enamor'd of our acting and our wits, Admire each other like true hypocrites. Warm-lighted glances, Love's Ephemeral, Shoot gayly o'er the dishes and the wine. We waken envy of our happy lot. Fast sweet, and golden, shows our marriage-knot. Dear guests, you now have seen Love's corpse-light shine!" Rossetti writes "Lovesight":