Browning himself told us that to him little else seems worth study except the development of a soul, the incidents, the story, of that.
Browning was a mere boy, it is recorded that he debated within himself whether he should not become a painter or a musician as well as a poet.
Browning might say, as his wife said in an early preface, I never mistook pleasure for the final cause of poetry, nor leisure for the hour of the poet--as indeed he has himself said, to much the same effect, in a letter printed many years ago: I never pretended to offer such literature as should be a substitute for a cigar or a game at dominoes to an idle man.
His somewhat timid disposition, moreover, never allowed him to enunciate his conclusions with anything like the buoyant aggressiveness of his contemporary, Robert Browning.
The appearance of her poems in two volumes in 1844 gave her a place among the chief living poets and led to her acquaintance with Browning.