as it was in Browning's youth will find an enthusiastic guide
in the author of `Praeterita'.

Browning's childhood was a happy one. Indeed, if the poet had been able
to teach in song only what he had learnt in suffering,
the larger part of his verse would be singularly barren of interest.
From first to last everything went well with him, with the exception
of a single profound grief. This must be borne in mind by those
who would estimate aright the genius of Robert Browning.
It would be affectation or folly to deny that his splendid physique --
a paternal inheritance, for his father died at the age of eighty-four,
without having ever endured a day's illness -- and the exceptionally
fortunate circumstances which were his throughout life,
had something to do with that superb faith of his which finds
concentrated expression in the lines in Pippa's song --
"God's in His Heaven, All's right with the world!"

It is difficult for a happy man with an imperturbable digestion
to be a pessimist. He is always inclined to give Nature
the benefit of the doubt. His favourite term for this mental complaisance
is "catholicity of faith", or, it may be, "a divine hope".
The less fortunate brethren bewail the laws of Nature,
and doubt a future readjustment, because of stomachs chronically out of order.
An eminent author with a weak digestion wrote to me recently
animadverting on what he calls Browning's insanity of optimism:
it required no personal acquaintanceship to discern the dyspeptic
well-spring of this utterance. All this may be admitted lightly
without carrying the physiological argument to extremes.
A man may have a liberal hope for himself and for humanity,
although his dinner be habitually a martyrdom. After all,