own drawing-room (Queen Street, Mayfair) to Sir William Stirling-Maxwell, of Keir, the cultivated author of Cloister Life of the Emperor Charles V., The Artists of Spain, &c. She was his second wife, and they had known each other for many years. Strangely enough, one of Mrs. Norton's poems, written long before her second marriage, is called The Great Chestnut-Tree at Keir, and is inscribed to her future husband. The storm of October, 1860, had swept over the Stirlingshire valleys, and the chestnut-tree is supposed to address its master thus :— "And I rest, master, I rest, Like a strong soul after bitter strife." The next verses go on to speak of how that ancient house, like the ancient tree, shall be victor throughout many a clouded hour, and shall raise a race whose branches shall o'erspread the land "when I am dead." The last lines are remarkable: "Young children's voices shall float in at the silent windows," and "not alone shall thy record be perused on monumental stone," but "'mongst the men of mark shall they read in the golden book of lasting fame, the friend and father's name." Mrs. Norton had always a love for Scotland. Part of her girlhood had been spent there. Her mother was a Scotchwoman; the scenes of her two best novels are laid in Scotland; her heroes are Scotch; and her second husband was a Scotchman born and bred. We might have wished for her that her last days (she died the 15th of June, 1877) could have been spent in Scotland, in that lovely home of Keir where the sombre yew-trees lift their dark shade, and the clipped yew hedges quaintly show from the terraced walks, and make it one of the most beautiful surroundings of "grey Stirling, with its towers and town." But it was willed otherwise, It was enough that Lady Stirling-Maxwell should enjoy for three months the appreciation, the love, and the care which as Mrs. Norton she had so sorely lacked. Life now could hardly be bitter. From her brilliant youth, from her stormy prime, from her sorrowful middle age-idolised, flattered, maligned, insulted, eulogised, loved, and cherished-she passed on to where "beyond these voices there is peace." Who can say it is not well with her? Calm evening light is sweeter than the glowing and radiant morn: out of suffering comes strength, and— "God giveth increase through the coming years, And lets us reap in joy, seed that was sown in tears." Lady of La Garaye. VII. ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. (1809-1861.) Birth-Childhood at Hope End-The Battle of Marathon-Death of her mother-Life in London-Intimacy with Miss Mitford-A Drama of Exile-Her brother is drowned-Illness-Great success of her poems -Lady Geraldine's Courtship-Acquaintance and marriage with Robert Browning—Casa Guidi Windows—Birth of her son—Aurora Leigh-Death. HE question, What is genius? is often asked, and not Teasily answered in a few words. We may, however, be tolerably certain that the creative faculty, the power of striking out new paths, of saying or doing original things in an original way, is one unfailing proof of the high instinct of genius. This power is rarely found among women; they can follow, but they cannot lead; they can sing pleasant songs or write clever novels, but we are often told that the divine fire of genius is denied them. In answer to this we may point to Elizabeth Browning, and ask if she did not strike out a new chord, if she did not sing with her own individual voice. What her husband thought of her, we know from a remark of his given in Mrs. Sutherland Orr's Life of Robert Browning. When a comparison was made between the two poets to the disadvantage of Mrs. Browning, he eagerly exclaimed, "You are wrong, quite wrong; she has genius, I am only a painstaking fellow. Can't you imagine a clever sort of angel who plots and plans and tries to build up something, he wants to make you see it as he sees it, shows you one point of view, carries you off to another, hammering |