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 to understand why, as she often says, his love for her appeared to her as a 'miracle,' a sure support coming beyond all reasonable expectation, and lifting her into life and happiness. From the very first her instinct tells her to put absolute trust in Browning's honour and generosity. That the instinct was entirely justified by the facts does not prove that it was infallible. It would be easy to speculate upon the results which might have followed, had Browning shared the weaknesses of some great poets—Coleridge or Shelley, for example; whether she might not have become the heroine of a tragedy, had she trusted to a man, selfish or simply weak, or valuing her enthusiasm only so far as it was a pleasant offering of incense upon the altar of his genius. That Miss Barrett was not incapable of illusions seems to be clear from her view of that wonderful person, her father. No one, as she assures Browning, had a heart 'loyaller, and purer, and more compelling to gratitude and reverence, than his,' as she sees it. The proof is remarkable. The brother whom she especially loved had been staying with her at Torquay by her especial request, and in spite of the father's disapproval. While they were there, the brother took a boat and was accidentally