* These words, and a subsequent paragraph, are quoted from Mr. Gosse's 'Personalia'. Monday night, March 9 (? 1841). My dear Miss Flower,--I have this moment received your very kind note--of course, I understand your objections. How else? But they are somewhat lightened already (confess--nay 'confess' is vile--you will be rejoiced to holla from the house-top)--will go on, or rather go off, lightening, and will be--oh, where _will_ they be half a dozen years hence? Meantime praise what you can praise, do me all the good you can, you and Mr. Fox (as if you will not!) for I have a head full of projects--mean to song-write, play-write forthwith,--and, believe me, dear Miss Flower, Yours ever faithfully, Robert Browning. By the way, you speak of 'Pippa'--could we not make some arrangement about it? The lyrics _want_ your music--five or six in all--how say you? When these three plays are out I hope to build a huge Ode--but 'all goeth by God's Will.' The loyal Alfred Domett now appears on the scene with a satirical poem, inspired by an impertinent criticism on his friend. I give its first two verses: On a Certain Critique on 'Pippa Passes'. (Query--Passes what?--the critic's comprehension.) Ho! everyone that by the nose is led, Automatons of which the world is full, Ye myriad bodies, each without a head, That dangle from a critic's brainless skull, Come, hearken to a deep discovery made, A mighty truth now wondrously displayed. A black squat beetle, vigorous for his size, Pushing tail-first by every road that's wrong The dung-ball of his dirty thoughts along His tiny sphere of grovelling sympathies-- Has knocked himself full-butt, with blundering trouble, Against a mountain he can neither double Nor ever hope to scale. So like a free, Pert, self-conceited scarabaeus, he Takes it into his horny head to swear There's no such thing as any mountain there. The writer lived to do better things from a literary point of view; but these lines have a fine ring of youthful indignation which must have made them a welcome tribute to friendship. There seems to have been little respectful criticism of 'Pippa Passes'; it is less surprising that there should have been very little of 'Sordello'. Mr. Browning, it is true, retained a limited number of earnest appreciators, foremost of whom was the writer of an admirable notice of these two works, quoted from an 'Eclectic Review' of 1847, in Dr. Furnivall's 'Bibliography'. I am also told that the series of poems which was next to appear was enthusiastically greeted by some poets and painters of the pre-Raphaelite school; but he was now entering on a period of general neglect, which covered nearly twenty years of his life, and much that has since become most deservedly popular in his work.