it be historical and English? What do you say to a drama on Strafford?"

"Sordello" had already been begun, but "Strafford" and a journey to Italy were to intervene before it was finished. "Strafford" was performed at Covent Garden, May 1, 1837, with Macready as Strafford and Helen Faucit as Lady Carlisle, was well received, and would probably have had a long run had it not been for difficulties which arose in the theatre management.

If Shelley was the paramount influence of his youthful years, from the time of his Italian journey in 1838, Italy became an influence which was henceforth to exert its magic over his work. He liked to call Italy his university. In "Sordello" he had already chosen an Italian subject, and his journey was undertaken partly with the idea of gaining personal experience of the scenes wherein the tragedy of Sordello's soul was enacted.

It was published in 1840, and except for a notice in the Eclectic Review, and the appreciation of a few friends, was ignored. A world not over-sensitive to the beauties of his previous work, could hardly be expected to welcome enthusiastically a poem so complex in its historical setting and so full of philosophy. Even the keenest intellects approach this poem with the feeling that they are about to attack a problem; for in spite of undoubted power and many beauties, it must be confessed that the luxuriance of the poet's mental force often unduly overbalances his sense of artistic proportion. Evidently the world was frightened. The little breeze, with which Browning's career began, instead of developing as it normally should into a strong wind of universal recognition, died out, and for

twenty years nothing he could do seemed to win for him his just deserts, though his very next poem, "Pippa Passes,' "showed him already a consummate master of his forces both on the artistic side and in the special realm which he chose, the development of the soul.

"Pippa Passes," "King Victor and King Charles," and The Return of the Druses" lay in his desk for some time without a publisher. He finally arranged with Edward Moxon to bring them out in pamphlet form, using cheap type, each issue to consist of a sixteen-page form, printed in double columns. This was the beginning of the now celebrated series, "Bells and Pomegranates." They were issued from 1841 to 1846, and included all the dramas and a number of short poems.

The only one of these poems with a story other than literary, is "A Blot in the 'Scutcheon," written for Macready, and performed at Drury Lane, on February 11, 1843. A favorite weapon in the hands of the Philistines has been the often reiterated statement that the performance was a failure. A letter from Browning to Mr. Hill, editor of the Daily News, at the time of the revival of this drama by Lawrence Barrett in 1884, drawn out by the same old falsehood, gives the truth in regard to the matter, and should silence once for all the ubiquitous Philistines.

Macready received and accepted the play, while he was engaged at the Haymarket, and retained it for Drury Lane, of which I was ignorant that he was about to become the manager: he accepted it at the instigation of nobody. When the Drury Lane season began, Macready informed me that he would act the play wher he had brought out two others, The Patrician'

Daughter' and 'Plighted Troth.' Having done so, he wrote to me that the former had been unsuccessful in money-drawing, and the latter had smashed his arrangements altogether': but he would still produce my play. In my ignorance of certain symptoms better understood by Macready's professional acquaintances I had no notion that it was a proper thing, in such a case, to release him from his promise; on the contrary, I should have fancied that such a proposal was offensive. Soon after, Macready begged that I would call on him : he said the play had been read to the actors the day before, and laughed at from beginning to end;' on my speaking my mind about this, he explained that the reading had been done by the prompter, a grotesque person with a red nose and wooden leg, ill at ease in the love scenes, and that he would himself make amends by reading the play next morning, which he did, and very adequately, but apprised me that in consequence of the state of his mind, harassed by business and various troubles, the principal character must be taken by Mr. Phelps; and again I failed to understand, allow at Macready's theatre any other than Macready to play the principal part in a new piece was suicidal, and I really believed I was meeting his exigencies by accepting the substitute. At the rehearsal, Macready announced that Mr. Phelps was ill, and that he himself would read the part on the third rehearsal, Mr. Phelps appeared for the first time. . . while Macready more than read, rehearsed the part. The next morning Mr. Phelps waylaid me to say . . . that Macready would play Tresham on the ground that himself, Phelps, was unable to do so. He added that he could not expect me to waive but that if I were prepared to waive it, he would take ether, sit up all night, and have the words in his memory by next day." I bade him follow me to the greenroom, and hear what I decided upon was that, as Macready had given him the part, he should keep it this was on a Thursday; he rehearsed on

such an advantage,

:

that to

which

Friday and Saturday, the play being acted the same evening, — of the fifth day after the reading' by Macready. Macready at once wished to reduce the importance of the play tried to leave out so much of the text, that I baffled him by getting it printed in four and twenty hours, by Moxon's assistance. He wanted me to

success,

,

call it The Sister!' and I have before me . . . the stage-acting copy, with two lines of his own insertion to avoid the tragical ending - Tresham was to announce his intention of going into a monastery! all this, to keep up the belief that Macready, and Macready alone, could produce a veritable tragedy unproduced before. Not a shilling was spent on scenery or dresses. If your critic considers this treatment of the play an instance of the failure of powerful and experienced actors' to insure its - I can only say that my own opinion was shown by at once breaking off a friendship which had a right to be plainly and simply told that the play I had contributed as a proof of it would, through a change of circumstances, no longer be to my friend's advantage. Only recently, when the extent of his pecuniary embarrassments at that time was made known, could I in a measure understand his motives - less than ever understand why he so strangely disguised them. If ' applause means success, the play thus maimed and maltreated was successful enough; it made way' for Macready's own Benefit, and the theatre closed a fortnight after."

Browning's second visit to Italy took place in the autumn of 1844, from which he returned to meet with the supreme spiritual influence of his life. "Lady Geraldine's Courtship" had just been published, and Browning expressing his enthusiasm for it to Mr. Kenyon, a dear friend of his and a cousin of Miss Barrett's, the latter immediately suggested that Browning should write and tell her of his delight in it. The corre

spondence soon developed into a meeting which was at first refused by Miss Barrett in a few self-depreciative words, "There is nothing to see in me, nothing to hear in me, I am a weed fit for the ground and darkness."

Mr. Browning's fate was sealed at the first meeting, we are told; but Miss Barrett, conscious of the obstacle offered by her ill-health, was not easily won, and only consented, at last, with the proviso that their marriage should depend upon improvement in her health.

Though the new joy in her life seemed to give her fresh strength, her doctor told her, in the summer of 1846, that her only hope of recovery depended upon her spending the coming winter in Italy. Her father having absolutely refused to hear of such a course, she was persuaded to consent to a private marriage with Mr. Browning, which took place on September 12, 1846, at Marylebone Church. A week later they started for Italy.

Mrs. Orr writes:

"In the late afternoon or evening of September 19, Mrs. Browning, attended by her maid and her dog, stole away from her father's house. The family were at dinner, at which meal she was not in the habit of joining them; her sisters, Henrietta and Arabel, had been throughout in the secret of her attachment and in full sympathy with it ; in the case of the servants she was also sure of friendly connivance. There was no difficulty in her escape, but that created by the dog, which might be expected to bark its consciousness of the unusual situation. She took him into her confidence. She said, 'O Flush, if you make a sound, I am lost.' And Flush understood, as what good dog would not, and crept after his mistress in silence.'

Mr. Barrett never forgave her and never saw her again. The surprise and consternation of Mr. Brown