shed as is commonly
supposed. Milton, Landor, Coleridge, Shelley, Byron, and Ruskin are
conspicuous examples of men who made shipwreck of marriage, but in
contrast shine forth the names of Browning, Tennyson, Wordsworth, and
Shakspere, for there is no evidence against the belief that
Shakspere's marriage was a happy one; then add to these the American
names, Longfellow, Lowell, Emerson, Hawthorne, and Holmes, and the
list is still incomplete.

In verse Mrs. Browning has most exquisitely expressed the power of
love to transform the gloom of her sick-room into the wholesome
sunshine of life,--

I saw in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turn had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,
"Guess now who holds thee?"--"Death!" I said. But, there,
The silver answer rang. "Not Death, but Love."

XXIX

ROBERT BROWNING

Shortly after Browning's death a young man published his recollections
of the poet in an English magazine. The extracts from that article
will help one to appreciate the kindliness of the great poet.

"My first meeting with Browning came about in this wise. I was sitting
in the studio of a famous sculptor, who, kindly forgetful of my
provincial rawness, was entertaining me with anecdotes of his great
contemporaries; amongst them, Browning. To name him was to undo the
flood-gates of my young enthusiasm. Would my sculptor friend help me
to meet the poet, whose teaching had been my only dogma? 'Oh,' said my
friend, 'that's easy. Write to him--he is the most amiable fellow in
the world--and tell him about yourself, and tell him how much you want
to know him. Say, if you like, that you are a friend of mine.' The
advice seemed simple but useless. I felt that not even the portfolio
of unpublished poems which the imaginative eye might have beheld
palpable under my arm could so fortify my modesty. But my friend
assured me that Browning would not be offended, so, after waiting some
weeks for my crescent courage, I wrote....

"I was taken up to his study and shown in. The first thing that struck
me was that he had built up a barrier of books around his table,
perhaps because he feared a too practical enthusiasm. Huge heaps of
books lay on the floor, the chairs,