vN' .n_ ^V. aV x\ ,.\\''«., -^^ ■^^, ,-s\ "^^. „^^' . '"^ % . N> o ' -J , . "" ■^ ' 1 '-> ^'v '''o^ "■"^■^ vO o. '^ .^^' ^ ^ o ^. - ,\V f- -^ •-;• 'X^ -s >> A^^' ,XV-. A TENNYSON PRIMER. >. N. \. A Tennyson Primer A CRITICAL ESSAY BY WILLIAM MACNEILE DIXON LiTT.D., A.M., LL.B. " FROFESSOR OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN KASON COLLEGE, BIRMINGHAM, AUTHOR OF "ENGLISH POETRY FROM BLAKE TO BROWNING." NEW YORK DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 1 896 CoPYRIOHT, 1896, BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY ou, because, though it does not claim the distinction of literacy value which belongs to your work, it may prove useful to readers of modern poetry ; and if it so proved, I should be glad to think that the name of one to whom I owe so much — and that not merely as a student — might be read here as that of my teacher and friend. Very sincerely yours, W. Macneile Dixon. jrV CONTENTS Chap. I. "Biography. Parentage and Childhood At Cambridge Marriage and Poet Laureateship Married Life, Travels and Political Poems Maud and the Idylls of the King The Dramas . ' . Closing Years Chap. II. The Toe ins. Poems by Two Brothers Timbuctoo and the Poems of 1830 . The Poems of 1832 . The Poems of 1842 . Page 1 3 '5 >7 20 3' 35 39 42 47 53 Chap. 111. The Princess, .847 59 Chap. IV. In Memoriam, i8so . Maud and Other Poems 74 85 Chap. V. Idylls of the King, 1859-8, . Enoch Arden, etc., 1864 The Dramas Ballads and Otiier Poems 9> 105 110 116 Chap. VI. A Critical Essay 125 Appendix. List of Dates and Bibliography M5 A TENNYSON PRIMER. CHAPTER I. Alfred Tennyson, the acknowledged representa- tive of his age in poetry, was born on August 6, 1809, at Somersby Rectory, in the village of Somers- by, in Lincolnshire. His parents were of gentle blood : his father, tlie Rev. George Clayton Ten- nyson, rector of Somersby and vicar of Grimsby, a man of exceptional culture, Parentage versatile powers, imagin^itive temper, and and strongly marked character ; his mother, a Childhood, daughter of the Rev. Stephen Fytche, vicar of Louth. Frederick and Charles (afterwards Charles Tennyson-Turner), who preceded Alfred in a family of twelve, both became distinguished as poets in after life. From his earliest years Alfred was devoted to poetry, and seemed destined for a poetical career. His first recorded verse was the cry that broke from him, when a child of five, as the wind hurried him down the garden walk : " I hear a voice that's speaking in the wind." While still very young, some verses written upon his slate — the subject, the flowers in the rectory gar- den — modelled upon Thomson, the only poet he had then read, were rewarded by a I' Yes, you can write," from his brother ; a little later the death of his grand- 2 A TENNYSON PRIMER, mother was the theme of a poem which drew from his grandfather half a sovereign, and the prophecy, soon to be falsified, " That is the first money, my boy, that you've made by poetry, and, take my word for it, it will be the last." Perhaps the lines in the Poems by Two Brothers^ be, ginning, " There on the bier she sleeps," are an im- proved version of this early attempt.* In his twelfth year he was busy on an epic in imitation of Scott, which ran to some thousand lines, and in his fifteenth he essayed a drama. Of the epic it is interest- ing to note that, in his father's judgment, it gave promise of a famous future. " If that boy dies," said Mr. Tennyson, " one of our greatest poets will have gone." After the village school came the grammar school at Louth, followed in its turn by home tuition. The changes hardly broke the tranquil, dreamy life spent by the boy, chiefly alone — for he was naturally of re- tiring disposition — or in long rambles with his favour- ite brother Charles. The news of Byron's death, in •1824, was the first wave of emotion from the outside world that touched him. " I thought," he said, " that everything was over and finished for every one — that nothing else mattered. I remember I walked out alone and carved ' Byron is dead !' into the sand- stone." Two years later Alfred and Charles joined in a poetical venture, and put forth a small volume ; but rather, it appears, in search of pocket-money than fame. . A Louth bookseller, Jackson by name, was induced to give twenty pounds for the copyright of thtw Juvenilia. The Poems by Two Brothers (1826), * Signed, however, " C. T." in the 1S93 edition. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 3 containing one hundred and two short poems, was pub- lished, and the money spent on a tour round the churches of Lincolnshire. The scenery of Lincolnshire is faithfully sketched as background to all the early poetry of Tennyson which is not purely derivative ; the rich meadow and gradual slope, the " ridged wolds," the picturesque wandering lanes, as well as the " glooming flats" and less attractive features of the fen country, appear in it, even the "... woods that belt the gray hillside, The seven elms, the poplars four That stand beside my father's door." — Ode to Memory. In 1828 Charles and Alfred went up to Trinity College, Cambridge, whither Frederick had pre- ceded them. Alfred's rooms were in Corpus Build- ings, overlooking the main quadrangle of King's College, and within hearing of its chapel organ. The change from the quiet, rural At life of his childhood to that of the univer- Cambridge. sity, where many of the lasting friend- ships of his life were made, was fraught with important influences upon Tennyson's career. He became the central figure of a group of brilliant young men, not a few of whom bore names afterwards distinguished : Richard Monckton Milnes (afterwards Lord Houghton), James Spedding (the "J. S." of the poem, " You ask me why, tho' ill at ease"), J, M. Kemble (the "J. M. K." of the sonnet, " My heart and hope is with thee"), Richard Chenevix Trench (afterwards Archbishop of Dublin), W. H. Brookfield (to whom the sonnet, " Brooks, for they 4 A TENNYSON PRIMER. called you so that knew you best," was addressed), Henry Alford (afterwards Dean of Canterbury), Ed- ward Lushington, Charles Merivale (afterwards Dean of Ely), and Arthur Hallam, the eldest son of Henry Hallam, the historian.* Between Arthur Hallam and Alfred Tennyson grew up a friendship so close and deep as rightly to be named ideal — a friendship which, though cut short by Hallam 's death in less than five years {In Mcmoriam, xxii.), must be reckoned one of the great determining forces of the poet's life. Hal- lam, Tennyson's junior by two years, was at this time the more widely read and accomplished scholar, and gave equal promise of future name and fame. His engagement, in the year in which he left Cam- bridge, to Emily Tennyson, Alfred's sister, promised to add another bond to that of friendship {In Me- moriam, Ixxxiv.), a promise sadly unfulfilled. Before going up to the University, Tennyson had been at work upon a poem entitled The Lover's Tale. After a few years' interval the first and second parts appeared in print in 1833 (the same year as Brown- ing's Pauline), "when," wrote the author (in the preface to the edition of 1879), " feeling the imperfec- tion of the poem, I withdrew it from the press." Copies were, however, in circulation, and the work was reprinted without his consent and without the improvements which were in contemplation. In self- defence a corrected and improved version, with the addition of a third part. The Golden SuJ^per, a work of the author's mature life, was published in 1879. The Lover's Tale contains one line — " A center'd glory-circled memory" — * Thackeray, afterwards a warm friend, was also a contemporary of the Tennysons at Trinity College. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 5 of which Tennyson had already made use in his now famous university prize poem, a fact which may be noted as an example of his almost parsimonious habit of treasuring a good line like a jewel until he could find for it a suitable setting. Three lines, also from the same poem, appear again in the Ode to Memory* In 1829, Milnes, Hallam, and Alfred Tennyson were all competitors for the Vice-Chancellor's medal in English verse — the subject " Timbuctoo." Tennyson was a candidate at his father's request, and the verses sent in were remodelled to some extent from an unfinished earlier poem on the Battle of Armaged- don. To him the medal was awarded, despite the fact that it was supposed to be de rigueur that the com- positions should be in the heroic couplet, and Tenny- son had chosen for his metre blank verse. Promise of great poetry to come was found in Timbuctoo by several acute readers, and it is creditable to the dis- cernment of the examiners that they were able to ap- preciate its merit. Both here and in 77ie Lover s Tale the influence of Shelley is clearly evidenced, but the ring and movement of the blank verse which we now recognise as Tennysonian unmistakably dis- play themselves. During the autumn of 1830 Hallam and Tennyson visited Spain — a visit commemorated in The Valley of Cauteretz — to carry money and letters of encourage- ment to the revolutionists, with some of whose leaders they had interviews.! The enthusiasm of the youth- * " Sure she was nigher to heaven's spheres. Listening the lordly music flowing from Th' illimitable years." — Ode to Memory. f " A wild time we had of it," Hallam said. " I played my part 6 A TENNYSON PRIMER. ful poets had been kindled by the struggle for freedom in the Spanish war of independence, much as the spirits of Wordsworth and Coleridge had been aroused by the hopes of the French Revolution. But, like Words- worth, Tenn3'Son came to a different and perhaps wiser mind when his knowledge of revolutionary men and methods was nearer and more personal. In this year of the visit to the Pyrenees was published Alfred's first independent volume of verse. Poems, Chiefly Lyri- cal. The original design had been to include poems by Hallam in the volume, but owing to the disap- proval expressed by Hallam's father the idea of a poetic partnership was given up, and the book ap- peared as we have it. In this year also appeared a volume of poems, Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces, by Charles Tennyson, the brother with whom Alfred had joined in the production of the Poems by Two Brothers. Wordsworth, writing from Cambridge about this time, remarked : " We have also a respectable show of blos- som in poetry — two brothers of the name of Tenny- son ; one in particular not a little promising." The death of his father in March, 1831, brought Tennyson's University career to a close without a degree, nor does it seem that he had any regard for the traditions of Cambridge or breathed its atmosphere with any keen enjoyment.* He had taken little part as conspirator in a small way, and made friends with two or three gallant men, who have since been trying their luck with Valdes." * The following sonnet, written in pencil, appears on the fly-leaf of the 1833 volume in the Dyce collection of the South Kensington Museum : " Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges, Your portals statued with old kings and queens. Your gardens, myriad-volumed libraries. Wax-lighted chapels, and rich carven screens, A TENNYSON PRIMER. 7 in the life a university offers, and was never a candidate for academic distinctions. To a chosen few, a coterie known as " the Apostles" {In Meffwriam, Ixxxvii.), he was accustomed to read his verses as they were com- posed, but it was understood that no criticism would be acceptable. From the first the natural sensitiveness of the poet, which increased in later life to an almost morbid degree, made him extremely averse to a word of dispraise. The same sensitiveness debarred him from playing any active part in the world of men, and at no period was his circle of acquaintanceship large. But while impatient of adverse criticism, there was never author who turned it to better account when it came ; and the day of its coming was not long delayed. The first rude breath of censure blew from the critical journals, Blackwood and the Quarterly, soon after the appearance of Poems, Chiefly Lyrical, and the Poems of 1832. The article in Blacktvood was written by Chris- topher North (John Wilson) in May, 1832, in the trenchant style of the reviews of the time, and that in the Quarterly (July, 1833), almost certainly by Lock- Your doctors, and your proctors, and your deans, Shall not avail you, when the day-beam sports New risen o'er awakened Albion — no ! Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow Melodious thunders thro' your vacant courts At morn and eve — because your manner sorts Not with this age wherefrom you stand apart. Because the lips of little children preach Against you, you that do profess to teach. And teach us nothing, feeding not the heart." The following note is appended : "I have a great affection for my old university, and can only regret that this spirit of under- graduate irritability against the Cambridge of that day ever found its way into print." 8 A TENNYSON PRIMER. hart, the editor, was even more severe. Wilson de- scribed Tennyson as "the pet of a cockney coterie," a remark at the time not so very wide of the truth, and Lockhart praised some of the poems in a vein of caustic irony. But both critics found genius in the work of the new poet, and it is with the manner rather than the matter of the reviews that any reasonable quarrel can be raised. While Tennyson replied to the Blackwood article bitterly enough in the verses, after- wards suppressed, describing Wilson as " rusty, fusty Christopher," he was careful to adopt his suggestions almost without exception ; and though the Quarterly re- view was resented, it was honoured scrupulously in the same way. This was to exhibit the temper of the child, but to act like a man. The voices, moreover, were very far from being all against Tennyson. Cole- ridge praised the poems, while he expressed the opin- ion that the new poet was not yet master of the metrical craft, and confessed to his own difficulty in scanning some of the verses. The Westminster Review of January, 1S31, had been full of eulogv ; Hallam him- self, in the Englishman's Magazine of August, had warmly praised the genius of his friend in a glowing article, and Leigh Hunt, in the Tatlcr of the same year (February and March), in reviewing Alfred's poems, together with the volume of sonnets by Charles, while he praised both, had predicted the laurel of the future for Alfred. In the year that Arthur Hallam took his degree (1832) he was a guest at Somersby. "Fifty years hence people will make pilgrimages to this place," he said. About this time his engagement to Emily Ten- nyson was made public, and he went up to London to begin his/ career at the bar, the profession he had A TENNYSON PRIMER. 9 chosen as the best avenue to the public life to which he looked. Until compelled, the following year, to seek health abroad, Hallam was domiciled at 67 Wimpole Street — " the dark house in the long unlovely street." " You will always find me at sixes and sevens," he was accustomed to say as a mnemonic for his friends. In September of 1833 the end came. " In Vienna's fatal walls God's finger toucht him, and he slept." After Arthur Hallam's death Tennyson went to re- side in London. So deep and poignant a sorrow as the early loss of his best-loved friend hung like a heavy cloud over his life. It was Tennyson's " dark hour," and years passed before he could bring him- self to find relief even in poetry. No volume I1 London, was published between the Poems of 1832 and the revised and enlarged edition, in two volumes, of 1842. Occasional verses had appeared in 1831 in the Gem, and in the following year in the English Mag- azine, the Yorkshire Literary Annual, and Friendship's Offering ; and others followed. St. Agnes^ Eve was first published in The Keepsake in 1837, and the song, " Oh that 'twere possible," in the Tribute in the same year. During these silent years in London Tennyson be- came one of Carlyle's most frequent visitors — none more congenial — " a true human soul or some authen- tic approximation thereto, to whom your own soul can say. Brother !" The poet of these London days was described in Carlyle's picturesque style thus : " A great shock of rough, dusty-dark hair ; bright, laughing, hazel eyes ; massive aquiline face, most massive, yet most delicate ; of sallow brown complex- ion, almost Indian-looking ; clothes cynically loose, lO A TENNYSON PRIMER. free and easy ; smokes infinite tobacco. His voice is musically metallic — fit for loud laughter and piercing wail, and all that ma}'^ lie between ; speech and specu- lation free and plenteous ; I do not meet in these late decades such company over a pipe." In 1838 he ap- peared as a member of the Anonymous Club, of which Carlyle, Mill, Thackeray, Landor, Macready Sterling, Cunningham, and other men of letters were members. Some of his poems were handed about in manuscript and read by friends. Landor praised in especial (December, 1837) the poem we know as the Morte iV Arthur as " more Homeric than any poem of our time, and rivalling some of the noblest parts of the Odyssea." The details of this period of Tenny- son's life are but scanty, and there is little for a bio- grapher to relate. We know that he became strongly attached to Rogers, the veteran poet, and at his house met, among men of note, Gladstone, Leigh Hunt, and Tom Moore. The following note occurs in the diary of Henry Crabb Robinson : "31 Jan., 1845. I dined this day with Rogers. We had an interesting party of eight — Moxon, the pub- lisher ; Kenny, the dramatic poet ; Spedding, Lush- ington, and Alfred Tennyson, three young men of eminent talent, belonging to literary young England — the latter, Tennyson, being by far the most eminent of the young poets. He is an admirer of Goethe, and I had a long tcte-a-tHe v^'xXh him about the great poet." It is certain that Carlyle's influence was a potent factor in the enlargement and development of his in- tellectual sympathies ; and to it, as well as to Hallam's death, is due the graver, more philosophical note soon to be heard in Tennyson's poetry. While he still continued to pay studious attentitm to the ex- A TENNYSON PRIMER. II ternal form of his verse, he essayed higher subjects and grappled with the deeper problems. In these days he met and talked far into the night, smoking '* infinite tobacco," with his chosen friends, or read far and wide, and brooded over the poems that were to set the seal upon his reputation in the 1842 volumes ; in Car- lyle's words, " carrying a bit of chaos about him which he was manufacturing into kosmos." With the pub- lication of the volumes just mentioned Tennyson's place in English literature was beyond question as- sured. The author of Locksley Hall, Ulysses, the Vision of Sin, and the Morte d' Arthur was universally ac- knowledged the first poet of the day. " He is de- cidedly," wrote, in 1845, Wordsworth, whom he had met for the first time two years earlier, " the first of our living poets." That year saw the fourth edition of the two volumes, and Moxon, his publisher, con- fessed that Tennyson was the only poet by the pub- lication of whose work he was not a loser. In 1837 the Tennyson family had left Somersby for Beech Hill House, near Hill Beech, situated on the border of Epping Forest, and near Waltham Abbey, whose bells are addressed in the fine greeting to the New Year, now familiar to all English ears : " Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky !" In 1840 came another change to Tunbridge Wells, and in the next year still another to Boxley, near Maidstone. Here Alfred's youngest sister, Cecilia, was married to Edmund Law Lushington, professor of Greek in the University of Glasgow, the wedding which is the subject of the closing section of In Me- moriam. In 1845,* through the influence of Milnes, * In 1844 Edgar Allen Poe, carried away by the artistic beauty of 12 A TENNYSON PRIMER. Tennyson's name was placed by Sir Robert Peel, \vlu> had never previously heard of the poet, upon the Civil List for a pension of two hundred pounds a year, and his pecuniary anxieties, for some time pressing, were at an end. Though approved of by the major- ity, by some the pension was considered premature, and Bulwer Lytton, in his satire. The New Ti/uon, made a sharp attack upon Tennyson, both as poet and pen- sioner. He was there spoken of as " School-Miss Al fred," and his poetry described as ..." a jingling medley of purloined conceits Out-babj'ing Wordsworth, and out-glittering Keats." A note to the passage stated that Tennyson had been "quartered on the public purse in the prime of life, without either wife or family." The reply was not delayed, and a set of verses in Punch, signed '* Al- cibiades," proved that stinging satire was quite within Tennyson's reach also, had he cared to enter that field.* An Afterthought, now included in his works form in Tennyson's poems, wrote enthusiastically: "I am not sure that Tennyson is not the greatest of poets." * ■' We know him out of Shakespeare's art. And those fine curses which he spoke — The old Timon with his noble heart, That strongly loathing, greatly broke. ' So died the Old, here comes the New ; Regard him — a familiar face ; I thought we knew him. What, it's you. The padded man that wears the stays — " Who killed the girls and thrilled the boys With dandy pathos when you wrote — O Lion ! you that made a noise, .-\nd shook a mane en faf^i Notes. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 1 3 under the title of Lifcra/y Squahhics, appeared the fol- lowing week over the same signature, and more justly represents Tennyson's true attitude towards such con- troversies. The passiige of detraction in the New Timon was subsequently excised ; and the amende hon- orable was acknowledged by the dedication, in 1876, of the drama of Harold to the novelist's son. Among other attacks may be noted the Bon Gaultier Ballads (the work of Theodore Martin and W. E. Aytoun), 1S45, which contained some clever parodies of the 1842 poems.* About this time Howitt wrote of Tennyson : " It is very possible you may come across " But men of long-enduring hopes, And careless what the hour may bring, Can pardon little would-be Popes, And Brummels when they try to sting, " An artist, sir, should rest in art. And waive a little of his claim ; To have the great poetic heart Is more than all poetic fame. ***** " A Timon you ! Nay, nay, for shame, It looks too arrogant a jest — That fierce old man — to take his name. You bandbox ! off, and let him rest." * The following stanza from The Laiircati-, parodying The Mer- man, will serve as an example : " Who would not be The Laureate bold, With his butt of sherry To keep him merry, And nothing to do but to pocket his gold. 'Tis I would be the Laureate bold " This was written on the death of Southey (1843), and was in- tended as an ironical demand for the appointment of Tennyson. 14 A TENNYSON PRIMER. him in a country inn, with a foot on each hob of the fireplace, a volume of Greek in one hand, his meer- schaum in the other, so far advanced towards the seventh heaven that he would not thank you to call him back into this nether world." Although Tennyson's reputation was now firmly established, there wanted not on the part of the best critics a certain reticence as to the quality of his at- tainment. In 1846, Wordsworth, in conversation with Thomas Cooper, spoke some weighty words which probably represented the more reserved and less en- thusiastic verdict of the time, the opinion of those who felt that so far the new poet had given signs indeed of very unusual power, but had trifled with his art rather than given himself seriously to its greater aims- " There is little," said Wordsworth, " that can be called high poetry. Mr. Tennyson affords, indeed, the richest promise. He will do great things yet, and ought to have done greater things by this time." Ere- long he was to show the best he had to give. In 1848 a new issue of The Princess (published the previous year) " produced among the fogs and smuts of Lin- coln's Inn," appeared, with a dedication to Henry Lushington, the friend whom Tennyson was accus- tomed to speak of as "his most suggestive critic." But the central year of the century was Tennyson's Aiinus Mirabilis, the year which saw the publication of his greatest poem, his marriage, and his appoint ment as Poet Laureate. In 1850 Tennyson left Cheltenham, where he had chiefly resided from 1S44. The years that lay between these two dates were mainly occupied in the composi- tion of the g "eat elegy which enshrines the memory of Arthur Hallam. /// Afemoriain appeared in 1850, at first A TENNYSON PRIMER. I 5 anonymously. On June 13 of the same year, the author was married at Shiplake Church, Oxfordshire, to Emily Sellwood, a niece of Sir John Franklin, the Arctic explorer. Wordsworth had died Marriage earlier in the year, and in November Al- a,nd Poet fred Tennyson was appointed his succes- l'*^J^*8,tesnip. sor as Poet Laureate,* and the seal of national recognition placed upon his already great fame. For two years after his marriage, on his re- turn from a wedding journey in Italy,f the poet lived at Twickenham, famous on account of Pope's resi- dence there, and now (as Mr. G. J. Cayley, in a blank verse letter, wrote to the Laureate) "twice classic." From this year until that of his death Tennyson's career was a summer of unbroken splendour, clouded only by the death of his brother Charles, in 1879, and his son Lionel, in 1885. Unlike most poets, he lived a long life through in the sunshine of critical as well as popular favour, honoured by all and reverenced by *The post was offered to and declined by Rogers. t See The Daisy. His verses To the Queen, written after his appointment to the Laureateship, have been so altered and amended that scarcely a line of the original remains as at first. The original MS. contained these two verses, afterwards omitted ; " Nor should I dare to flatter state, Nor such a lay would you receive Were I to shape it, who believe Your nature true as you are great. ***** " She brought a vast design to pass When Europe and the scatter'd ends Of our fierce world did meet as friends And brethren in her halls of glass." The reference here is to the Crystal Palace of 1851. 1 6 A TENNYSON PRIMER. many as among the very greatest of English poets. No such supreme lot has perhaps ever fallen to a poet of any race or country in the history of the world, Tennyson's almost immediate and unanimous ac- ceptance as a poet — a circumstance in itself usually far from prophetic of enduring fame — may be set down as due in part to the versatility of his poetic manner, and in part to the absence of serious rivals. He was fortunate in the possession of many brilliant gifts; he was perhaps even more fortunate in his birth time, and in the length of days granted him, with faculties unimpaired, and with ample space wherein to stablish his monument and enjoy his fame. Of the great poets of the century, but few reached even middle life ; for Keats and Shelley and Byron the light was early quenched ; Wordsworth and Southey and Coleridge had overlived their poetic prime, and the fruit of public acceptance was once more ripe for plucking. And Tennyson, in whose brain the man of the world was not unrepresented, took the nearest way to fame in that he made appeal, in almost every volume of verse published in his earlier years, to the people as well as to the critics. He was the man of the hour, and, with no very definite or sagacious opinions to offer, gave expression in his poetry to the prevailing feelings, the prevailing thought of the time. The admiration of the few and the critical was ex- cited by the perfection of his art, the admiration of the many and unsophisticated readers of poetry by the simple and graceful treatment of themes gener- ally themselves simple, frequently English. The few were delighted to find their own thoughts in the deli- cate and exquisite version of a scholar of perfect A TENNYSON PRIMER. 1/ taste ; the many could not deny that here were poems which never ran on to undue lengths, easily understood, even more easily enjoyed, and praised by all poetical authorities. The first year of Tennyson's married life was partly spent in Italy, the route chosen being through the Riviera to Florence. Save for a few stanzas in The Keepsake, a. farewell sonnet to Macready, read by John Forster at the banquet Married Life, given the actor on the eve of his depart- Travels, and ure, and the dedication "to the Queen"* ^°"tical Poems, of the seventh edition of the Poems, there was nothing of importance published during the year. But in 1852 the political horizon became clouded and threatening, and Tennyson, in company with most of his countrymen, viewed with extreme distrusT' the events taking place in France. The period of excitement that followed the coup d'etat of December, the abolition of the constitution of the French Republic by Louis Napoleon, gave birth to three patriotic lyrics, published under the pseudonym of "Merlin" \x\ \)i\& Examiner. It was not until 1872 that Tennyson acknowledged the authorship of these lyrics by the publication in the library edition of his works of the stirring lines entitled The Third of February, which, with the poems, Britons, Guard your Otvii and Hands all Round, had given full expression to the national feeling in England towards the French emperor and those weak-kneed English peers who. * Tennyson was presented to the Queen at Buckingham Palace, on his appointment to be Poet Laureate, March 6, 1851. It is said he was dressed in Rogers' court dress, worn on a former occasion by Wordsworth. 1 8 A TENNYSON PRIMER. to purchase peace at any price, would have " salved the tyrant o'er." In September the Duke of Wellington died, and upon the day of his funeral appeared in the Tifnes the first version of Tennyson's funeral ode, a poem which, if studied in its various editions, will give con- siderable insight into the author's careful methods of work. There was little enthusiasm over the ode in its early form, and it was severely criticised in the Press. Tennyson was much gratified by Henry Taylor's approval — *' It has a greatness worthy of its theme, and an absolute simplicity and truth, with all the poetic passion of your nature moving beneath" — and replying, wrote : " Thanks ! thanks ! In the all but universal depreciation of my ode by the Press, the prompt and hearty approval of it by a man as true as the Duke himself is doubly grateful." The second edition, published in 1853, was greatly altered and ex- tended, and further improvements were introduced before its reappearance in the Afa u ti xolumo. of 1856. The following lines in the first were omitted in all the subsequent editions : " Perchance our greatness will increase ; Perchance a darkening future yields Some reverse from worse to worse, The blood of men in quiet fields. And sprinkled on the sheaves of peace." In this 5'ear the poet's eldest son, Hallam, was born at Twickenham, and in the following year the family removed to Farringford, in Freshwater. The lanes and breezy downs, the meadow and wood and views of sea of the Farringford district form the back- ground of his later poetic descriptions, as the flats and level wastes and marshes of Lincolnshire had done in A TENNYSON PRIMER. 19 the earlier. In his poetic invitation to the Rev. F. D. Maurice, on the occasion of his expulsion from King's College, London, Tennyson accurately describes the surroundings of his home in the Isle of Wight : " Where, far from noise and smoke of town, I watch the twilight falling brown All round a careless-order'd garden Close to the ridge of a noble down. ***** " For groves of pine on either hand, To break the blast of winter, stand ; And further on, the hoary Channel Tumbles a billow on chalk and sand." Here, w^here Lionel, his second son, was born in 1854, Tennyson lived until 1870. In 1853 appeared the eighth edition of the Poems and the fifth edition of the Princess^ w^hich, like the Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington, had undergone many altera- tions and editions ; the third edition in especial pre- senting the poem in many parts completely rewritten, and with the addition of the songs, which may be re- garded as its chiefest beauty. In 1854* appeared in the Examiner (December 9) the first draught of The Charge of the Light Brigade, a poem of which three versions are extant. The final version appeared as a separate publication, with the following note by the author : "Having heard that the brave soldiers before Sebastopol, whom I am proud to call my countrymen, have a liking for my ballad on the Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava, I have ordered a thousand copies of it to be printed for them. No writing of * In this year Dr. E K. Kane, the Arctic explorer, named a columnar rock in Greenland, "Tennyson's Pillar." 20 A TENNYSON PRIMER. mine can add to the glory they have acquired in the Crimea ; but if what I have heard be true, they will not be displeased to receive these copies of the ballad from me, and to know that those who sit at home love and honour them. "August 8, 1855. Alfred Tennyson." "The people's voice" was never more distinctly heard than in the poetry of Tennyson written in times of grave national anxiety. His sympathy with popular feeling, as here, aroused by the war in the Crimea, was closer and deeper, aristocratic poet though he was, than that of any poet of the demo- cracy that England has yet seen. In May, 1855, the year of the publication of Maud, the honorary degree of D.C.L. was conferred on the Poet Laureate by the University of Oxford. Of all Tennyson's poems, Maud was received Maud "^vith the least favour ; it was severely criti- and The cised in Blackiiwod (September), and the Idylls of JVational Review (October), and a hot con-- the King, troversy ensued over its merits and de^ merits. An " Anti Maud, by a Poet of the People," appeared and ran into a second edition. The germ of Maud (as noted above) is to be found in the lines, " Oh, that 'twere possible," contributed in 1837 to the Keepsake, and it is on record that its genesis maybe traced to a remark of Sir John Simeon (Tennj'son's friend and neighbour), to the effect that the lines suggested a story which ought to be more fully explained. Be this as it may, the poem was mainly composed in Sir John Simeon's garden at Swainston. Though the author's favourite poem, Maud has never taken firm hold of the popular imagi- A TENNYSON PRIMER. 21 nation, and only a few of the more eminent critics have spoken enthusiastically in its favour. Chief among the charges made against the poem is that of obscurity, a charge which can, however, with difficulty be main- tained. The best-known vindication of Mai/d, a reply to the animadversions of the critics, was published by Dr. Mann (1S56), and is of special interest as approved by Tennyson himself. In a letter to the author,, Ten- nyson wrote : " No one with this essay before him can in future pretend to misunderstand my dramatic poem, Maud J your commentary is as true as it is full." Rightly understood, Maud wiW be taken as a proof of the real range and fertility of Tennyson's lyric power. More truly dramatic than any of his poems composed in the traditional form of the drama, it serves to display the character of his genius, which was capable of the development of intense individual moods such as he could realise in his own person, and their presentation in the emphatic form of subtly modulated lyric verse. In a monodrama whose action unfolds itself in a series of lyric poems, his intense individualism was a source of strength, just as it was a source of indisputable weakness when he afterwards essayed a great dramatic theme in Queen Mary and Harold. Maud was the poem which the author most fre- quently chose to read aloud. Perhaps the most in- teresting occasion upon which it was so read was in the September of 1855 ; Robert Browning and his wife were present, and Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Ros- setti made a pen-and-ink sketch of the poet as he de- claimed his verses, which is still preserved. Tenny- son is sketched seated on the sofa, in a loose coat. His left hand grasps his foot in a curious fashion. 22 A TENNYSON PRIMER. and the riglit holds the book. Of Tennyson's read- ing, several descriptions have been given. It seems to have been a kind of chant, guided by the music of the verse rather than by the sense of the words, and in this way a striking contrast to Browning's, whose stress of voice was not intended to be musical, but indicative of the meaning. The contrast is signifi- cant as interpreting in the case of each poet his con- ception of the aim of his own art. " I rather need to know what he is reading," said Sir Henry Taylor of Tennyson, " for otherwise I find sense to be lost in sound from time to time." Two American men of letters have left interesting records of their personal impressions of Tennyson during 1S57. Bayard Taylor was the poet's guest at Farringford, and walked with him over the cliffs to the Needles. " I was struck," he wrote, " by the variety of his knowledge. Not a little flower on the downs escaped his notice, and the geology of the coast, both terrestrial and submarine, was perfectly familiar to him. I thought of a remark I once heard from a distinguished English author (Thackeray), that Tennyson w^as the wisest man he knew." Of the outward man he spoke as " Tall and broad-shoul- dered as a son of Anak, with hair, beard, and eyes of Southern darkness."* Hawthorne found the poet " as un-English as possible," though not American in appearance. " I cannot well describe the difference, but there was something more mellow in him, softer, sweeter, broader, more simple than we are apt to be." t It ma}' be noted here that Whittier, a warm ad- * Ai Home and Abroad, by Bayard Taylor (London, 1S60). \ July 30, 1857. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 23 mircr of Tcnn3fson's poetry, wrote to him in 1885 to ask for some memorial verses for the cenotaph of Gordon — a request which produced the well-known stanza beginning : " Warrior of God, man's friend" — Some years later he wrote to Walt Whitman an ac- knowledgment of the gift of that poet's photograph : " Dear Walt Whitman : I thank you for your kind thought of me. I 'value the photograph much, and I wish that I could see not only this sun picture, excellent as I am told it is, but also the living original. May he still live and flourish for many years to be. The coming year (1888) should give new life to every American who has breathed a breath of that soul which inspired the great founders of the American Constitution, whose work you are to celebrate. Truly the mother country, pondering on this, may feel that how much soever the daughter owes to her, she, the mother, has nevertheless something to learn from the daughter. Especially I would note the care taken to guard a noble Constitution from rash and unwise innovators." This year (1857) saw in print,* though it never was published, the first of the series of poems dealing with the Arthurian cycle of legends which we now possess under the title of The Idylls of the King. For long Tennyson's mind had been occupied upon the material for poetic treatment lying unused in the an- cient British romances. In every volume published by him appear traces of their influence upon his * F.tiid and Xi III lie ; or, 7'/ie True and tlie False. 24 A TENNYSON PRIMER. imagination. The Lady of S/ialott, Sir Galahad, and The Morte d' Arthur were pieces of exquisite jewel work such as a consummate artist alone could have achieved, but they were little more than beautiful fragments, and the subject demanded a larger treat- ment. Milton's youthful design of an epic poem upon King Arthur had never been executed. " King Ar- thur," as Dr. Johnson said, " was reserved for another fate" — that, namely, of cruel prosing at the hands of Sir Richard Blackmore, the valiant author of ineffec- tual epics. It was left for a nineteenth-century poet to attempt the authentic English epic, the great na- tional poem unifying the deeds of the great national hero of Britain's legendary age. The development of Tennyson's poem was very gradual. In 1859 ap- peared Enid, Vivien, Elaine, and Guinevere in a volume of which ten thousand copies were sold within a few weeks. At long intervals from this year until 1885, the date of Balin and Balan, was built up, book by book, the poem of Arthur and the Round Table. An expectant but critical audience received the first volume with mingled feelings of admiration and disappoint- ment. Longfellow wrote in his diary : " Finished the four idyls. The first and third {Enid and Elaine) could have only come from a great poet. The second and fourth ( Vivien and Guinevere) do not seem to me so good." Carlyle was more outspoken in his dissatis- faction. In a letter to Emerson he wrote : " We read at first Tennyson's Idylls with profound recognition of the finely elaborated execution, and also of the in- ward perfection of vacancy, and, to say truth, with considerable impatience at being treated so very like infants, though the lollipops were so superlative. We gladly changed for one of Emerson's English A TENNYSON PRIMER. 25 Traits." Fitzgerald, one of Tennyson's oldest friends, shared the disappointment, but for different reasons from Carlyle's. Tennyson's poetic progress had been in his judgment a deterioration. The early poems, Fitzgerald's first love, had been added to indeed, but not outshone. Of In Meinoriam, though he spoke admiringly, he confessed that for him it had " the sense of being evolved by a poetic machine of the highest order," and of The Princess he wrote to Fred- erick Tennyson : " I am considered a great heretic for abusing it ; it seems to me a wretched waste of power at a time when a man ought to be doing his best ; and I almost feel hopeless about Alfred now — I mean about his doing what he was born to do." When the Idylls appeared he said : " I wish I had secured more leaves from that old ' Butcher's Book' torn up in old Spedding's rooms in 1842, when the press went to work with, I think, the last of old Alfred's best." Without literally endorsing Fitzgerald's mournful verdict, the majority of the good critics sorrowed over Tennyson's desertion of the field in which his early laurels had been reaped for the excursion into epic territory, and the regret was even more unanimous and widespread when he essayed drama. His repu- tation indisputably suffered during these epic and dramatic periods, and was not altogether restored even by the publication in 1880 of Ballads and Other Poems in his seventieth year, described by Theodore Watts as " the most richly various volume of English poetry that has appeared in this century." A personal note in connexion with a passage in The Holy Grail may here find a place : " Let visions of the night or of the day Come as they will ; and many a time they come, 26 A TENNYSON PRIMER. Until this earth he walks on seems not earth, This light that strikes his eyeball is not light, This air that strikes his forehead is not air But vision — yea, his very hand and foot — In moments when he feels he cannot die, And knows himself no vision to himself. Nor the high God a vision, nor that One Who rose again." Here, and, as will be presently noted, elsewhere in his poetry Tennyson describes a mental state which was one frequently present in his own experience. He describes it as follows (May 7, 1874): "I have never had any revelations through anaesthetics, but a kind of waking trance (this for lack of a better name) I have frequently had quite up from my boyhood, when I have been all alone. This has often come to me through repeating my own name to myself silently, till, all at once, as it were, out of the intensity of the consciousness of my individuality, the individuality itself seemed to resolve and fade away into boundless being, and this not a confused state, but the clearest of the clearest, the surest of the surest, utterly be- yond words, where death was an almost laughable impossibility. The loss of personality (if so it were) seeming no extinction, but the only true life." In The Ancie/it Sage we have an exact reproduction of this description in verse : " For more than once when I Sat all alone, revolving in myself The word that is the symbol of myself. The mortal limit of the Self was loosed. And past into the Nameless, as a cloud Melts into Heaven. I touch'd my limbs, the limbs Were strange, not mine — and yet no shade of doubt, But utter clearness, and thro' loss of self A TENNYSON PRIMER. 2/ The gain of such large life as match'd with ours Were sun to spark — unshadowable in words. Themselves but shadows of a shadow- world." A similar account of trance-like state is quoted by- Mr. Knowles from a conversation of Tennyson's : * " Sometimes as I sit here alone in this great room I get carried away out of sense and body and rapt into mere existence, till the accidental touch or movement of one of my own fingers is like a great shock and blow, and brings the body back with a terrible start." With these experiences we may compare that deline- ated in the ninety-fifth section of In Memoriam. " So word by word, and line by line The dead man touch'd me from the past. And all at once it seem'd at last The living soul was flash'd on mine, " And mine in his was wound and whirl'd About empyreal heights of thought, And came on that which is, and caught The deep pulsations of the world." In 1859 Tennyson's strong patriotic sentiment once more found expression in verse, this time inspired by the volunteer movement, the outcome of a period of political unrest and the feeling of the necessity of provision for national defence. The Times of March 9 printed The War (best known as Riflemen, Form /), a poem known to be by the Laureate, though unac- knowledged by him. Tennyson's interest in the vol- unteer force was keen and sustained. In 1867 he wrote to the late Colonel Richards : " I most heartily con- gratulate you on your having been able to do so much for your country ; and I hope that you will not cease * Aspects of Tennyson, N^inetefnth Century (January, 1893). 28 A TENNYSON PRIMER. from your labours until it is the law of the land that every man child in it shall be trained to the use of arms." After the first volume of the Idylls of the King, Ten- n5'^son took another new departure in Sea Dreams, which, with Enoch Ardcn and Aylmer's Field, is an essay, not altogether successful, in decorative treatment of subjects taken from modern English life. His extra- ordinary versatility — at once a strength and a weak- ness — appears in the comparison of these poems with Tithonus, contributed at Thackeray's request to Corn- hill, the magazine of which he was at the time editor, and written in the same year as Sea Dreams. In the former we have a faultless rendering of one of the most beautiful of the classic myths, deepened and widened in its spiritual and moral significance, sub- dued in tone yet full of exquisite colour — in short, a poem in which Tennyson's genius displays itself in its most commanding presence ; in the other, as in Enoch Arden, the embroidered splendours of the form only serve to belittle or remove into the region of fantastic unreality the substance of the poem. In 1859, accompanied by his friend, Professor Pal- grave, Tennyson visited Portugal, and in 1861 revisit- ed the Pyrenees, whither in 1830, with Arthur Hal- lam, he had made the enthusiastic revolutionary ex- cursion of his youth. It was on this occasion that the lines In the Valley of Cauteretz,* commemorating that early journey, were composed. In 1S64 Gari- baldi was a visitor at Farringford. As a memorial of his visit, and at Mrs. Tennyson's request, he planted in the grounds, already beautiful with ilex * See Remains of Arthur Hugh Clotigh, vol. i., pp. 264-69. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 29 and cedar, a WcUingtonia gigantea. In the Deinctrr volume, Tennyson, in a poem to W. G. Palgrave ( To Ulysses), makes a graceful reference to the visit and the memorial act : " Or watch the waving pine which here The warrior of Caprera set, A name that earth will not forget Till Earth has rolled her latest year." Except for such visits, occasional journeys abroad, and the publication of his poems, the Laureate's long life, like that of most men of letters, was a life of un- eventful years. In 1867 the even tenour of the home at Farringford was exchanged during the sum- mer and autumn months for Aldvvorth, a house built for the poet from designs by Mr. J. T. Knowles on the borders of Sussex, near the village of Haslemere. Partly to provide a secluded retreat where, in his in- creasing horror of hero-worshippeVs, he niight have a certain refuge, and partly for the sake of Mrs. Tenny- son's health, the change was made. As the years wore on Tennyson bore with decreasing patience the penalty of fame, and his dislike of publicity may have had something to do with his refusal of a baronetcy offered him in 1865. The Laureate's contribution about this time to the " Eyre Defence Fund" occasioned much popular in- dignation. Eyre had entered Louth Grammar School shortly after the Tennysons left for Cambridge, and had in later life come prominently before the public eye by his prompt and decisive suppression of an in- surrection among the natives in Jamaica, where he was stationed. A charge of wanton cruelty was pre- ferred against Eyre by a large and influential body of 30 A TENNYSON PRIMER. religious sentimentalists ; and the action of Carlyle, Kingsley, Ruskin, and Tennyson in subscribing to a fund for his defence produced an almost fierce resent- ment. The Laureate's letter on the occasion is of more than passing interest: " I sent my small sub- scription as a tribute to the nobleness of the man, and as a protest against the spirit in which a servant of the State, who has saved to us one of the islands of the Empire and many English lives, seems to be hunted down. In the mean time, the outbreak of our Indian Mutiny remains as a warning to all but mad- men against want of vigour and swift decisiveness."* Of the lesser poems written by Tennyson during his epic and dramatic periods, by far the most remark- able is Lucretius. I am not sure that the poet's high- est reach is not attained in this, the most splendid of his masterly studies of classical subjects. No other poem displays his best qualities in such powerful combination, in such flawless perfection. Admirably balanced, magnificent in its metrical movement, and in its final version closed by perhaps the most dramatic touch in all Tennyson's poetry, it marks in my judg- ment the high-water mark of his achievement. Among his other poems there may be found some to equal, none, I think, to surpass it. In 1868 Henry Wads worth Longfellow visited Tennyson at Farringford, whither the most distin- guished visitors to England now made a pilgrimage. An account of an expedition to the newly built and inaccessible Aldworth, made about this time by a party of guests, is given by Lord Houghton, one of their number : * Life of E. J. Eyre, late Governor of Jamaica, by Hamilton Hume. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 3 1 " Our expedition to Tennyson's was a moral suc- cess, but a physical failure ; for we had so bad a pair of posters that we regularly knocked up seven miles from the house, and should have had to walk there in the moonlight, if we had not met with a London cab. The bard was very agreeable, and his wife and son delightful. He has built himself a very handsome and commodious house in a most inaccessible site, with every comfort he can require, and every discom- fort to all who approach him. What can be more poetical ?" That in his poetry he had built himself an imper- ishable monument was never, it seems, a settled con- viction in Tennyson's mind. He was often visited by doubts regarding the enduring quality of his poetical achievement. Looking on The Dramas, one occasion at Aldworth, in company with its architect, Mr. Knovvles, he said, " That house will last longer than I shall. It will last five hundred years." Ambitious to try his hand in the highest de- partment of literature, and uncertain how the work already done might fare at the hands of time, Tenny- son, led by the irony of fate, gave up some of the best years of his life to the composition of dramatic poetry, to which his genius cannot be said to have in- clined him, and in which he certainly attained no crown of lavish praise. Fine as are occasional pas- sages and dramatic as are many of the scenes in Queen Alary, Harold, and Becket, these plays are es- sentially poems upon which a dramatic form has been impressed, but impressed unconvincingly. Neither in action nor in presentation of character are we persuaded that they are dramatically conceived. Queen Mary was produced at the Lyceum in April, 32 A TENNYSON PRIMER. 1876, Mr. Henry Irving taking the part of Philip, and Miss Bateman that of the Queen. In spite of the excellence of the stage management, the representa- tion was a failure. Harold, in some respects a play of better construction for stage purposes, although abso- lutely inferior as poetry, followed, but in published form only, and has never been acted. But in the very hour of his failure as a dramatist Tennyson was engaged upon poems which were to" prove how great an error he made in deserting the field best suited to his genius, and how much greater was the error of the critics who saw visible decline writ large upon his later work. " Eh ! he has got the grip of it," cried Carlyle when the ballad of The Revenge was read to him ; and many another friend, dissatisfied with the epic and the dramas, rejoiced over the marvellous virility of the verse collected in the volume entitled Ballads and Other Poems of 1880. This book was the first sign of the gorgeous Indian summer which was to diffuse its golden splendours •over the remainder of Tennyson's career, and to end only with his life. For his genius there lay in wait no "winter of pale misfeature." In April, 1879, Charles Tennyson Turner* died. At Grasby, where he had been rector, he left behind him many affectionate memories, and to the world of letters a reputation not indeed of such far-shining brilliance as his brother, but of tender and enduring ray. A collected edition of his poems, with Alfred's prefatory memorial lines " At Midnight," was pub- lished in the year following that of his death. Fred- erick, the eldest of this poetic brotherhood, still lives, * The name " Turner" was taken under the will of a relation. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 33 the author of many poems which, bearing any name but that of Tennyson, might have made the name illustrious. In The Falcon, produced by Mr. and Mrs. Kendal at St. James's Theatre (December, 1879), the Laureate again essayed success as a dramatist, this time with a vastly less ambitious play ; a mere graceful poetic set- ting of a plot from Boccaccio, the ninth novel of the fifth day of his Decameron. The Falcon, too, like its predecessors, failed, and it was not until the produc- tion at the Lyceum by Mr. Irving in January, 1881, of The Cup that success rewarded Tennyson's persever- ing efforts in the dramatic form. This play owed its public favour in some degree to the actors and to the management under which it was produced in a style of profuse magnificence. In 1880 Tennyson was invited to become a candi- date for the Lord Rectorship of the University of Glasgow, but declined the honour of a nomination on hearing that he was to be the candidate of the Con- servative Party, in the following terms : " I only consented to stand for your Lord Rectorship when informed by the letter of introduction which your agreeable deputation brought, that my nomination was 'supported by a large majority, if not the total- ity of the students of Glasgow.' It now seems neces- sary that I should, by standing at your invitation, appear, what I have steadfastly refused to be — a party candidate for the Conservative Club. . . . You are probably aware that some years ago the Glasgow Liberals asked me to be their candidate, and that I, in like manner, declined ; yet I would gladly accept a nomination, after what has occurred on this occasion, if at any time a body of students, bearing no political 34 A TENNYSON PRIMER. party name, should wish to nominate me, or if both Liberals and Conservatives should ever happen to agree in foregoing the excitement of a political con- test, and in desiring a Lord Rector who would not appear for installation, and who would, in fact, be a mere roi faineant, with nothing but the literary merits you are good enough to appreciate." The note struck by Tennyson in the Ballads and Other Poems was a fuller, richer, deeper note than had yet been heard in his poetry. The voice that spoke in it was a manlier voice. The dreamy melody of the verse of his youth had given place to a more strenu- ous music and themes of graver human interest. Had his career closed before 1880, it might fairly have been said of him that he had given the best he had to give, that nothing more was to be expected. There is not, I think, in the history of literature so signal an example of poetic power steadily advancing in strength and compass through so long a life, and until its very close. Or if there be, to find a par- allel we shall need to journey far : Tennyson is only matched by Sophocles. In 1882, under the direction of Mrs. Bernard Beere, The Promise of May, Tennyson's fifth drama — a prose one this time — was produced at the Globe Theatre, and proved a dismal failure. It was popularly though wrongly supposed* that, in the character of ' Edgar,' Tennyson intended to pourtray the ordinary agnostic, and the portrait was regarded as unnecessarily insult- ing. Much excitement was caused on the fourth night of the representation by an interruption from * In a letter to Mr. Hall Caine, Tennyson wrote : " I meant Edgar to be a shallow enough theorist. I never could have thought that he would have been taken for an ' ordinary freethinker.' " A TENNYSON PRIMER. 35 the Marquis of Queensberry, who rose in the theatre and exclaimed, " I am an agnostic, and I protest against Mr. Tennyson's gross caricature of our creed." The transient decline in popularity produced by this play and by the general ill success of Tennyson's dramas, was increased when, on his return from a yachting cruise to Copenhagen with Mr. Gladstone, he accepted a peerage. The Poet-Peer's attendance at the debates in the House of Lords was very rare ; on one occasion he took part in a division, voting for a measure in extension of the franchise ; on another he paired in favour of the " Deceased Wife's Sister" bill. The Laureate's sixth drama, Becket, was published in 1884. It is pleasing to record the graceful act of courtesy done his old friend, Mr. Aubrey de Vere, in connexion with its composition. " He would not write it," says Mr. de Vere in a private letter, "till he ascertained from me (my Thoinas of Canterbury had been published a few years earlier) that, so far from being annoyed at his writing on the same great man, I should much rejoice at it." Of the remaining years of Tennyson's life there is little for the unofficial biographer to record save the publication of successive volumes of a veteran poet's verse, which never lost its charm, while it grew in power and drew at last to an almost tri- umphant close. It is good to think that „ ^ ^ . ^ . . Years. Tennyson, like Shakespere, in his latest work delivered a message of hope to the human race, a message even prophetic in its tone of deep and sol- emn assurance. The Tiresias volume (1885), fitly dedicated to Robert Browning, contained among 36 A TENNYSON PRIMER. many noble and striking poems one in particular, The Ancient Sage, which, to me at least, seems to sum up all that is noblest and best in the life-teaching of Tennyson. It is of interest to note that in this year he ex- pressed his opinion in very definite language of the proposal to disestablish the English State Church. " I believe," he wrote, " that the disestablishment and disendowment of the Church would prelude the down- fall of much that is greatest and best in England."* Tennyson was given to expressing his opinions strongly and with no uncertain note. When the news of the persecution of the Russian Jews reached Eng- land in 1891, " I can only say," he wrote, "that Russia has disgraced her church and her nationality. I once met the Czar. He seemed a kind and good-natured man. I can scarcely believe that he is fully aware of the barbarities perpetrated with his apparent sanction." In 1886 Lionel Tennyson died on his voyage home from fever contracted in India, where he had been as a member of the Viceroy's staff. His death was the one great trial of the poem's declining years, and is the main theme of the pathetic poem dedicating the De- mefer volume (1889) to the Marquis of Dufferin and Ava. " For he — your India was his Fate, And drew him over sea to you — He fain had ranged her thro' and thro' To serve her myriads and the State. * * * * * * " But while my life's late eve endures, Nor settles into hueless grey, My memories of his briefer day Will mix with love for you and yours." * Letter to Mr. Bdsworth Smith. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 37 Among the visitors to Farringford and Haslemere during the last years of Tennyson's life were his old friends, the Duke of Argyll, Professor Jowett, and Mr. Theodore Watts, and from across the Atlantic jour- neyed a welcome guest in Oliver Wendell Holmes. Just before his own death in December, 1889, Brown- ing wrote his last letter to Tennyson on the occasion of the Laureate's eightieth birthday : " My dear Tennyson : To-morrow is your birthday, indeed a memorable one. Let me say I associate my- self with the universal pride of our country in your glory, and in its hope that for many and many a year we may have your very self among us — secure that your poetry will be a wonder and delight to all those appointed to come after. And for my own part, let me further say, I have loved you dearly. May God bless you and yours." Locksley Hall Sixty Years After (1886), in which the author returned to the theme of his youth, possesses an interest of a somewhat different order from that of the other later volumes in that it presents the same mind that produced the early Locksley Hall, moving among the same surroundings altered by time, and thus at once marks a contrast and emphasises a develop- ment. If the two poems are read side by side, the characteristics of Tennyson's youthful and decorative art are sharply distinguishable from those of his maturer, enlarged, and reflective poetry. The early poem betrays an intellectual slightness and a music thin by comparison with the impassioned depth and sincerity, the ample volume of the later. The one is governed by the egoistic passion of the boy, the other by the altruistic temper of the sage. 38 A TENNYSON PRIMER. Versatile and graceful to the last, even in fields re- mote from that of his power, he published in 1892 his last drama, The Foresters, a romantic pastoral play, which achieved a brilliant success when produced by Mr. Daly in New York, with Miss Ada Rehan as Maid Marian. Sherwood Forest, Robin Hood, Maid Marian, and the life under the greenwood tree must have conveyed something of the charm of English country life in the olden time to American audiences, whose ancestors' life indeed it was. But the harp from whose magic strings flowed the ever-varying, ever-melodious music that had seemed in English ears the sweetest of its time, was soon to be silent. In the autumn of 1892, but a few weeks before the publication of The Death of Qifione and Akbars Dream, rumours were heard of the poet's ill- ness, and on October 6, before dawn, but in a room flooded with the quiet moonlight, the end came. He was buried among his peers and beside his friend, Robert Browning, in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey. CHAPTER II. In the spring of 1827, Charles and Alfred Tenny- son were partners in a literary venture. The preface to the volume, which had for motto the line from Martial, " Hsec nos novimus esse nihil," stated that the " poems were written from the ages of fifteen to eighteen, not conjointly, but individually." In Messrs. Macmillan's "poems edition of 1893 the preface by Hallam, by Two Lord Tennyson, contains the further in- Brothers," formation obtained from his father that he 1827. (Alfred) was between fifteen and seventeen when the poems were written, his brother Charles between fifteen and eighteen, and that four poems now signed " F. T." were by Frederick Tennyson, the eldest brother. In this latter edition the initials, supplied by Frederick Tennyson, of the supposed authors, either "A. T." or " C. T.," are appended to each of the poems, but we are warned that there is no certainty as to the authorship in individual cases.* Without the help of the initials, however, and despite the fact that the music now familiar as Tennysonian is nowhere to be heard in the book, there is little difficulty in determining the work of each author. * Some additional poems are for the first time printed in this edition. They belonged to the original MS. of 1827, but were omitted for some forgotten reason. 40 A TENNYSON PRIMER. After one perusal I was struck by the fact that the moVe ambitious poems are the work of one hand, and that hand is proved to be Alfred's by the occasional phrases to be met with which appear again in his later poetry — as, for example, in this volume, in the poem entitled Egypt, occur these lines: " The first glitter of his rising beam Falls on the broad-based pyramids sublime;" and in A Fragment, published by Alfred in the Gem in 1830, these occur : " Yet endure unscathed Of changeful cycles, the great Pyramids Broad-based a.vaid the fleeting sands." And here in Oriaiia the lines, " Winds were blowing, waters flowing. We heard the steeds to battle going, Oriana ; Aloud the hollow bugle blowing, Oriana," echo a similar movement in the Vale of Bones : " When on to battle proudly going, Your plumage to the wild winds blowing. Your tartans far behind ye flowing." I have noticed a number of these similarities and resemblances, and think it would be no difficult task to pick out with tolerable certainty the poems by Alfred from among the one hundred and two poems of which the volume is composed. The vein of feel- ing in Charles's poems is more tranquil, more domes- tic, and the themes chosen far less difficult. Alfred is the bolder adventurer, and ranges further in his search for subjects. His work seems to express a more de- A TENNYSON PRIMER. ^ 4I liberate determination to be poetic, and effort is more distinctly characteristic of his contributions to the book than those of Charles, which may be unhesitatingly described as by comparison spontaneous and natural. It may at once be said that there is no mark of distinc- tion, no promise of future greatness in these poems. They are rather, indeed, remarkable for the absence of the puerility one might naturally expect to be some- where betrayed in a series of such youthful efforts, than by any positive qualities. Many of the poems written by Alfred Tennyson in later years, such as, for example, The Skipping-Rope or The English War Song (of 1830), reach a lower deep of inanity than any printed in this first volume. For the rest an ac- quaintance with the poetry of the world such as few schoolboys can boast is plentifully exhibited in the mottoes prefixed to most of the verses. The Latin poets, Lucretius, Virgil, Horace, are laid under contribution ; Milton, Gray, Byron, Scott, and Moore among English poets ; and occasional prose authors are represented — in short, a goodly company — among which, of course, the English writers, and Byron in particular, predominate. The boys, and it is signifi- cant when we attempt to fix for ourselves the place which the future will assign to Alfred Tennyson — the boys were cradled into poetry by the best poets of the world. The determination to be poets preceded any true poetic faculty, and in Alfred's case we must regard that determination, leading as it did to life- long, indefatigable labour in the effort to obtain an artist's command over his medium, an artist's mastery in technique, as in large measure the power which, joined with the true poetic vision of later years, made him the poet he eventually became. 42 A TENNYSON PRIMER. The versification and metrical movement of this early verse are, of course, entirely derivative ; Byron's Hebrew Melodies and Moore's Irish Melodies supply much of the inspiration. The boys had indeed, as Coleridge said of Alfred, " begun to write poetry without very well understanding what metre was," and this volume is composed of a series of imita- tive metrical essays. Imitative they are, however, in a catholic spirit, no one model being exclusively followed. The only notice of the book in which the brothers " crossed the Rubicon" together, as they expressed it in the preface, appeared in The Literary Chronicle and Weekly Revieio (May 19, 1827), "This little volume," remarked the writer, "exhibits a pleasing union of kindred tastes, and contains several little pieces of considerable merit." In the first year of his Cambridge residence Tenny- son was a candidate for the Chancellor's Medal in English Verse — the subject Timbuctoo. Among his rivals were Monckton Milnes and Arthur Timbuctoo Hallam. Hallam's poem, composed in the and the terza rima of Dante, may be read in the " Poems" of volume of his Remains in Verse and Prose, 1830. published in 1834. Tennyson's poem is now accessible in Messrs. Macmillan's edi- tion of Poems by Tivo Brothers, to which it forms a natural conclusion. The exercises were submitted to the University Examiners in April, and upon June 12, 1829, the following announcement appeared in the Cambridge Chronicle and Journal: "On Saturday last the Chancellor's Gold Medal for the best English poem by a resident undergraduate was adjudged to Alfred Tennyson, of Trinity College." This A TENNYSON PRIMER. 43 is the first public mention of the name of Alfred Tennyson in connexion with poetry. In the AtJiciKZum of July 22, a very flattering notice of the prize poem appeared. "We have accustomed ourselves," wrote the reviewer (perhaps John Sterling or Frederick Maurice, at that time the joint editors), "to think, perhaps without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and that in the most decided manner ; for it has put forth poetry by a young man, and that where we should least expect it — namely, in a prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant, but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any man that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little work before us ; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, for they have assigned the prize to its author, though the measure in which he writes was never before, we believe^ thus selected for honour." The measure here referred to was blank verse, a bold experiment on Tennyson's part, the traditions being all in favour of the heroic couplet. I have little doubt, however, that, so far from attenu- ating his chance of success by his choice of metre, Tennyson really increased it ; the novelty of the measure calling attention to and emphasizing the novelty of method and manner conspicuous in the poem. Without echoing the high praise of the AthencEui/i reviewer, it is not too much to say that Timbuctoo is a very remarkable prize exercise, vague indeed in its general conception and purpose, but 44 A TENNYSON PRIMER. indisputably original ; the first English poem to mark the direction in which the richly decorative art of Keats was to find its development. Written very shortly after the Poems by Two Brot/iers, it is a surprising advance in poetic technique. The ob- viously imitative measures of his boyhood poems are forgotten, and Tennyson has found himself. The music is the familiar music that we associate with his name — " Where are ye, Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green? Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms, The blossoming abysses of your hills ? Your flowering capes, and your gold-sanded bays, Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds ?" The inspiration here, as indeed throughout, is es- sentially Keats ; read Hyperion and you have traced this manner to its fount. The influence of Words- worth, traceable in some of his later poems, is not yet visible, nor was there anything either of Wordsworth, the revealer, or Wordsworth, the unconscious artist, grand in the bare simplicity of his style, in Tennyson at any period of his poetic history. They may be taken as representatives of methods in poetry mu- tually exclusive. If Wordsworth was a great poet, he was a great poet by reason of his revelation, by reason of the truth and the beauty of his thought when it crystallised in a perfect and inevitable be- cause a quietly natural form of expression. If Tenny- son was a great poet, it was because, like Pope, he could set forth a philosophy and adorn a pathetic tale in a more graceful and more appropriate key of words than any man of his time ; and, what Pope could not do, give lyric expression to intense individ- A TENNYSON PRIMER. 45 ual moods with almost the passionate power of Burns, and an intellectual precision not at all times attained by Shelley. Essentially a lyrist, and original only in his presentation of his own moods or states of feel- ing, Tennyson, when he travelled beyond the range of his own experience, was a scholarly and accomplish- ed versifier, a later Pope, who from among the ideas current at the time selected the best, and gave them out again in his own elegant and exquisite version. Difficile est proprie commit nia die ere. The rich and dreamy melodies, the alternate lan- guor and swiftness of emotion, and the subtleties of its delineation, displayed in Poems, Chiefly Lyrical, at once exercised a fascination over the sensitive tem- peraments of the young men who were readers of poetry in 1S30. Verse like this, from the first poem in the volume, Claribel, was a source of new and de- lightful sensations : " At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone : At noon the wild bee hummeth About the moss'd headstone ; At midnight the moon cometh, And looketh down alone. Her song the lintwhite swelleth, The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth. The callow throstle lispeth, The slumbrous wave outwelleth. The babbling runnel crispeth, The hollow grot replieth Where Claribel low lieth."* * In Henry Alford's journal there are some interesting refer- ences to the brothers Tennyson. Referring to Alfred's " Poems" of 1S30, and Charles's Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces, published the same year, he wrote : "Oct. 12, 1830. Looked over both the Tennysons' Poems at 46 A TENNYSON PRIMER. It was a new departure in English poetry ; there had been nothing like it before ; and although the in- tellectual equipment of the author, so far as revealed in the poetry, was really of the slightest, and although some of the poems were hardly worthy of a place in any printed book, curiosity and admiration were aroused, and an interest excited in the personality of the new poet. The best and most characteristic poems in this volume were Claribcl, Mariana, Isabel, Adeline, Oria/ia, The Dying Swan, A Character, The Poet, The Poet's Mind, and Circumstance. There were fifty-three poems in all, of which almost half (twenty-five) were after- wards suppressed, a few being restored to places in the collected editions of later life. The following is a list of the suppressed poems : Elegiacs ; The How and the Why ; Supposed Confessions of a Second-rate Sensitive Mind not in Unity with Itself ; The Burial of Love j To Juliet j Songs (three) ; Heroto Leander ; The Mystic ; The Grasshopper ; Love, Pride, and Forgetfulness ; Chorus in an Unpublished Drama, written very early ; Lost Hope ; The Tears of Heaven ; Love and Sorrow ; To a Lady Sleeping ; Sonnets ; Love ; The Kraken j English War Song ; National Song j Dualisms J We are Eree,oi piovrsi. Tennyson's judg- ments on his own poems, unlike those of Wordsworth, were almost unerring, and, as a consequence, the inces- sant revision to which his work was subjected rarely failed to be happily effective. How finely some of his poems were retouched may here be illustrated by per- night ; exquisite fellows. I know no two books of poetry which have given me so much pure pleasure as their works ;" and again later : " Met Tennant, Hallam, Merivale, and the three Tennysons at Alfred Tennyson's rooms. The latter read some very exquisite poetry of his, entitled Anacaoiia and T/w IlisperiJcs. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 47 haps the palmary example. In its first version, the closing line of Lucretius read : " What matters ? All is over : Fare thee well" —a line weak in itself, and weaker as the conclusion of BO matchless and dramatic a reproduction of the clas- sic story. In its later form the last words of Lucre- tius catch up in questioning echo his wife's despairing cry " as having failed in duty to him," and once again the unsolved problem of his philosophic life shapes it- self anew, the ruling passion strong even in violent and untimely death : "Thy duty? What is duty ? Fare thee well !" The Poems of 1S30 were praised by Hallam and Leigh Hunt, but severely handled by Christopher North in Blackwood. So far there had been no unanim- ity among the critics as to the rank to be assigned the representative of the new school of poetry. At the same time, it was evident The "Poems" that the younger generation was in his of 1832. favour, and in 1S32 Tennyson put forth another volume of lyrics in which the distinctive char- acteristics of his style were still more strongly marked. Hallam's criticism^" the author imitates nobody" — made in his reviewof the 1830 Poems in the English- mail's Magazine^ was even more strictly true of this second volume. Subtly indefinite as many of the pieces were, the very absence of definite meaning lent them the magic of suggestiveness which captivated many minds. " I am not sure," wrote Edgar Allan Poe, " that Tennyson is not the greatest of poets. . . . There are passages in his works which rivet a convic- tion I had long entertained, that the indefinite is an element in the true 7roii]GiZ. Why do some persons 48 A TENNYSON PRIMER. fatigue themselves in endeavours to unravel such phan- tasy pieces as The Lady of Shalott ? As well unweave the xjcntum textilcm. If the author did not deliberately propose to himself a suggestive indefiniteness of mean- ing, with the view of bringing about a definiteness of vague and therefore of spiritual effect — this, at least arose from the silent analytical promptings of that poetic genius which, in its supreme development, em- bodies all orders of intellectual capacity."* In that mu- sical dream, T/ie Lady of S/ialott,\ in the subtile mod- * New York Democratic RcvicLi), December, 1844. •j- The original version of this poem differs from the final in sixty or seventy lines. The following was the concluding stanza in the early edition : " They crossed themselves, their stars they blest, Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest ; There lay a parchment on her breast. That puzzled more than all the rest The well-fed wits at Camelot. ' The web was woven curiously, The charm is broken utterly ; Draw near and fear not, this is I, The Lady of Shalott.' " How Tennyson could polish a pebble until it becam^ a gem is nowhere better illustrated than by a comparison of this with the following stanza : " Who is this ? and what is here ? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer ; And they cross 'd themselves for fear. All the knights at Camelot : But Lancelot mused a little space ; He said, ' She has a lovely face ; God in his mercy lend her grace. The Lady of Shalott.'" Shalott is a form of Astolat. The poem was suggested by an Italian romance — Donna Ji Scalotia. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 49 ulation, the harmonies and cadences of The Lotos- Eaters,^ in the finely drawn portraits of The Dream of Fair Women., and especially in the highly wrought beauty and deep moral significance of the allegory presented in The Palace of Art, indisputable evidences of original genius were displayed. It was impossible to receive this body of poetry in contemptuous silence ; it was difficult to withhold from it a meed of respect. But the casquet which held these jewels contained some spurious and many faulty brilliants. And in the Quarterly of July, 1833, a full and cruel but, in many respects, admirable review of Tennyson's poetry proceeded with caustic irony " to point out," as the writer said, " the peculiar brilliancy of some of the gems that irradiate his poetical crown." The indig- nation of Tennyson-worshippers against the author of this critique has never slept, but in my judg- ment it may be justly claimed not only as the most effective, but in the poet's own interest the most valuable review ever written. The supreme excel- lence of Tennyson's poetry, if it can be said to re- side in any one quality, resides in its flawless per- fection of finish. Had Tennyson not been a great, al- most a faultless artist, he would have been a poet of inconsiderable rank. He became such an artist, as has already been remarked, by assiduous culture of rare native talent, and the criticism of the Quarterly showed the young author the indispensable necessity of even sterner artistic governance and stricter self- discipline. Lockhart, for there is little doubt as to the authorship of the article, was a severe critic, but his severity bore fruit where extravagant praise or in- dulgent partiality would have proved less than barren. * Founded on a passage in Odyssey. (Bk. ix. 82 seq.) 50 A TENNYSON PRIMER. Some of the pieces which drew forth his sarcastic com- ments were omitted from future editions, and almost all were altered or rewritten in respect of the censured passages.* The following poems were dropped in the next collected edition. Five Sonnets (" Mine be the strength of spirit fierce and free ;" " O Beauty, pass- ing beauty ! sweetest sweet !" " Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar ;" " How long, O God, shall men be ridden down ;" " As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood") ; Lines " To ;" TJic Hesperides ; Rosalind ; Songs — Who can Say ; O Darling Room ; Lines "To Christopher North ;" Kate. In the first edition of T/ie Palace of Art, many passages appeared which were struck out of all subsequent editions, and four stanzas descriptive of two statues in the palace were appended to the poem with a note, together with the following fine verses descriptive of a tower for astronomical ob- servation : " Hither, when all the deep unsounded skies Were shuddering with silent stars, she clomb, And, as with optic glasses, her keen eyes Pierced through the mystic dome. " Regions of lucid matter taking forms, Brushes of fire, hazy gleams. Clusters and beds of worlds, and bee-like swarms Of suns and starry streams. " She saw the snowy poles of moonless Mars, That marvellous round of milky light Below Orion, and those double stars Whereof the one more bright " Is circled by the other." " In this poem," wrote Lockhart, " we first observed 4 stroke of art which we think very ingenious. No * Compare the first with the later editions of lite Millo's Daughter. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 5 1 one who has ever written verses but must have felt the pain of erasing some happy line, some striking phrase, which, however excellent in itself, did not exactly suit the place for which it was destined. How curiously does an author mould and remould the plastic verse in order to fit in the favourite thought ; and when he finds that he cannot introduce it, as Corporal Trim says, anyhow, with what reluctance does he at last re- ject the intractable but still cherished offspring of his brain ! Mr. Tennyson manages this delicate matter in a new and better way. He says with great candour and simplicity, ' If this poem were not already too long, / should have added the following stanzas,' and then he adds them J or, ' I intended to have added something on statuary, but I found it very difficult ; but I have fin- ished the statues of Elijah and Olympias ; judge whether I have succeeded ; ' and th.e.n we have those two statues. This is certainly the most ingenious device that has ever come under our observation for recon- ciling the rigour of criticism with the indulgence of parental partiality." Another comment of Lockhart's may be quoted. The early version of the Dream of Fair Women contained these lines in the description of Iphigenia's sacrifice : " One drew a sharp knife through my slender throat ; Slowly, and nothing more." " What touching simplicity," remarked the reviewer, " what pathetic resignation — he cut my throat — ^nothing morel' One might indeed ask what more she would have ?"* * The lines now stand as follows — " The bright death quiver'd at the victim's throat ; Touch'd ; and I knew no more." 52 A TENNYSON PRIMER. In April, 1833, Coleridge, than whom no subtler musician in words has ever written verse, wrote of these early poems as follows : " I have not read through all Mr. Tennyson's poems, which have been sent to me, but I thini<. there are some things of a good deal of beauty in that I have seen. The misfortune is that he has begun to write verses without very well under- standing what metre is. Even if you write in a known and approved metre, the odds are, if you are not a metrist yourself, that you will not write harmonious verses ; but to deal in new metres without considering what metre means and requires is preposterous. What I would, with many wishes of success, prescribe to Tennyson — indeed without it he can never be a poet in art — is to write for the next two or three years in none but one or two well-known and strictly defined metres, such as the heroic couplet, the octave stanza, or the octosyllabic measure of the Allegro and Pense- roso. He would probably thus get imbued with a sensation, if not a sense, of metre without knowing it, just as Eton boys get to write good Latin verses by conning Ovid and Tibullus. As it is, I can scarcely scan his verses."* How is this criticism of Coleridge's to be interpreted ? To censure the author of The Lotos-Eaters^ The Palace of Art, and CEiwne as deficient in a knowledge of what metre was excites surprise, and were any other than Coleridge the critic, would excite derision no less. Yet Coleridge is in a sense right. Tennyson, more especially in his earlier poems, was a melodist rather than a metrist. He aimed at musical effects, at sound-effects only perfectible for the human ear through some more plastic medium * Table- Talk of S. T. Coleridge, vol. ii., p. 164. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 53 than language. The human voice may be regarded as a perfect instrument of limited range, but as the organ of articulate speech it is at once ennobled and degraded — ennobled as the servant of the rational soul, degraded as a musical instrument. Language- less emotion it may adequately render, as the harp or violin render it ; intellectual precision, only attain- able in some articulate tongue, is incompatible with the freedom of its chords, essential for the production of the purely musical effects attainable through- other mediums.* For ten years after the publication of the 1832 poems Tennyson published no volume of verse. When at length he broke silence, it was to take assured rank among English poets. " If anything were to happen to Tennyson," said Elizabeth Barrett, " the world should go into mourning." The first Poems of of the two volumes published in 1842 was i^**. In mainly composed of poems which had al- ready appeared in the previous collected editions of 1830 and 1832, the second of poems, with one or two exceptions, entirely new. Of the reprinted pieces some were practically re-written and many were * Edgar Allan Poe, writing in the New York Democratic Review (December, 1844), notices in Tennyson the absence of strict regard to metre. " His shorter pieces abound in minute rhythmical lapses — sufficient to assure me that, in common with all poets, living or dead, he has neglected to make precise investigation of the prin- ciples of metre ; but, on the other hand, so perfect is his rhyth- mical instinct in general, that he seems to see with his ear." It were more correct, I believe, to say that he attempts to reproduce a melody correctly heard by the ear, but disorganized when set to words— that is, only imperfectly reproduced; hence the rhythmical lapses; hence, too, the inapplicability of ordinary metrical prin- ciples. 54 A TENNYSON PRIMER. amended. The attempt to chronicle the alterations made by Tennyson in his poetry, even after it was made public, would in itself require a volume. It will suffice to remark that up to the last the successive editions invariably contained changes, many, indeed, slight or verbal, but no less indicative of the scrupu- lous and incessant attention bestowed upon his work. Take as one example these lines, the opening of QLnoue in the 1832 volume : " There is a dale in Ida, lovelier Than any in Ionia, beautiful With emerald slopes of sunny sward, that lean Above the loud glen river, which hath worn A path thro' steep-down* granite walls below Mantled with flowering tendril twine." This might have been written by any one, but in 1842 it had been through the refiner's hands again, and emerged pure Tennysonian : " There is a vale in Ida, lovelier . Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen. Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine. And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand The lawns and meadow-ledges midway down Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars The long brook falling thro' the clov'n ravine In cataract after cataract to the sea." When Monckton Milnes, on behalf of Tennyson's friends, represented to Sir Robert Peel, then Prime Minister, that the poet's name be placed upon the civil list for a pension, he sent him a copy of these * Tennyson's authorities are always classic : " Wash me in steep-down gulfs of liquid fire." • —Othello. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 55 poems, marking Ulysses and Lockslcy Hall. Of all his poems probably the latter has gained the widest ap- preciation. Its colour and picturesqueness, the fresh- ness of its treatment of a simple and familiar theme, and the lively movement of its trochaic measure won for it instant popularity. In a copy of the first edi- tion, originally possessed by Mr. R. W. Proctor, the following verses appear in manuscript after the nine- teenth couplet : " In the hall there hangs a painting, Amy's arms are round my neck, Happy children in a sunbeam, sitting on the ribs of wreck. " In my life there is a picture : she that clasped my neck is flown, I am left within the shadow, sitting on the wreck alone." These lines serve to connect this poem with the Locksley Hall of Sixty Years After, as they appear in the later poem after the sixth couplet. Several of the readings of the first edition have been changed, for example : " Let the peoples spin forever down the ringing grooves of change" and " 'Tis the place, and round the gables, as of old, the curlews call." Among the new poems of this collection the Morte d' Arthur, the English idylls, Dora, and The Gardener s Daughter^' The Two Voices, Ulysses,] and St. Simeon Stylites, are the most remarkable, and call for special notice as marking an advance in the scope and ethical * A note to Dora in the 1842 edition stated " The idyll of Dora was partly suggested by one of Miss Mitford's pastorals ; and the ballad of Lady Clare by the novel of Inheritance. The reference here is to the story Dora Crcssxucll in Our Village.^' The Inheritance is by Susan Ferrier, of Edinburgh. f Founded on 26 canto of Dante's Inferno. 56 A TENNYSON PRIMER. significance of the poet's art. When these poems were published Tennyson had passed the first two stages of his poetical career — the derivative period, during which he was in turn influenced by preceding writers, and imitated their several manners, and the period of musical effects, in which the formal part of poetry, its sensuous beauty, had occupied his ear and mind. Ex- perience of real life — the death of his beloved friend, Arthur Hallam — awoke in him the fuller pulse of man- hood. The ebb and flow of human passion, the deeper currents in the lives of men, were now the springs of a less sensuous, more intellectual music. In )^outh, it was the loveliness and the charm of the world that took by storm his imagination ; in age, its majesty, its un- riddled mysteries, and far-reaching issues are the bur- den of his song. In Ulysses the many voices of the ocean summon the wanderer from inglorious rest, and once again he calls together his friends for a voyage of heroic enterprise ; in The Tivo Voices, the old yet ever new debate on the value and the issues of our mortal life is evolved with a wonderful skill and a critical exactness which brings to mind the art of Dryden, that master logician in verse ; in St. Simeon Stylites, the companion picture to Ulysses, the fruitless- ness of the creed that in its passion for another world neglects the present is vividly pictured, and we have in it the most dramatically conceived and executed poem he had yet written. Tennyson's mind, as I have elsewhere attempted to show, was in fuller sympa- thy with the ethics and ideals of Greek philosophy than with the self-effacing spirit of the Middle Ages. In this poem we have his criticism in dramatic form of the extreme asceticism, the " other-worldliness" of mediaeval Christianity, but it is a criticism full of A TENNYSON PRIMER. 57 sympathy. That he should have entered into its spirit, and exhibited the finer shades of feeling in a spiritual mood so foreign to his own gives to the poem an element of very special interest. It may be said that in The Idylls of the King — in some respects his most characteristic work — the mental attitude is dis- tinctly Christian. But I should prefer to describe the symbolism of the idylls as neo-Platonic. The allegory of " the soul at war with sense," though embodied in a chivalric romance, is pervaded by conceptions which have their root in the poetic mysticism of Plato's many-sided mind. The philosophic creed of Brown- ing and the devout faith of Mr. Aubrey de Vere, if their poetry be contrasted with Tennyson's, have their roots deep struck in the soil of pure Christianity,* and borrow from the philosophers subsidiary conceptions only ; with Tennyson, though his creed was indeed Christian, it was grafted on the tree of high pagan speculation. In these 1842 volumes Tennyson speaks out of his heart and mind. He remained till the last a delicate manipulator of musical phrases, but the substance, or what Aristotle would call " the soul of the poem," is no longer second to the diction, the body in which it resides. Dora and The Gardener s Daughter, like The Miller s Daughter of the previous volume, are vignettes of real country life, idyllic scenes, " tasting of Flora and the country green." It is the richness of colour, the lush luxuriance of beauty, not tropical, but through gen- erations ordered by skilful hands — such colour and luxuriance as English landscape alone can show — that * Note the spirit of sympathy with mediaeval Christianity present in their poetry. 58 A TENXVSOX PRIMER. are lovingly dwelt upon in Tennyson's descriptive poetry. He was a patriot who loved his native coun- try best — her citizens, her government, her traditions, and not less the flowers in her fields, the skies above them, and the sea that keeps her inviolate. It is in- structive, however disillusionising, to note the extra- ordinary " inter\-al" in the fine judgment of such an artist, which permitted these lines (afterwards sup- pressed), entitled The Skipping- Rape, a place beside the truh- great poems of i S42 : " Sure never yet was antelope Could skip so lightly by. Stand off. or else ray skipping-rope Will hit you in the eye. How lightly whirls the skipping-rope ! How fairy -like you fly ! Go, get you gone, you muse and mope — I hate that silly sigh. Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope. Or tell me how to die. There, take it. take my skipping-rope, And hang yourself thereby."' The future may discover in this some oracmar mean- ing, but surely Fitzgerald was justified when he said : " Alfred, whatever he may think, cannot trifle. His smile is rather a grim one."* * Fitzgerald's Letitrs, p. 95. CHAPTER III. Since Shakespeare's day woman had not occupied in English poetry so large and gracious a space as in the character-studies of Tennyson's early volumes. The ideals of chivalry were come again, but enriched and refined. In The Princess, published in 1847, the now widely- known poet became the poetic interpreter and critic of that movement of thought and feeling which con- cerned itself with the position of woman in the social organisation. In a fantastic and The half serious, half sportive allegory, " moving Princess, as in a strange diagonal," he outlined and 1847. reduced to form the many elements in the problem, and by his statement, no less than by his solu- tion of the questions involved, gave definite and con- crete shape to the vague aspirations and somewhat nebulous ideas present in the intellectual atmos- phere. Criticise it as you will, and the early reviewers were not tardy in expressing disapproval. The Prin- cess is a poem full of Tennyson's own peculiar charm. " A medley," as it was called, incongru- ous and unreal, if it betrays the poet's faults and weaknesses, it cannot be denied to possess many of his most winning and most characteristic excellences. Like most of his longer poems, it was built up to its present shape through successive editions. The sec- ond edition, published after a year's interval, contained 6o A TENNYSON PRIMER. few changes, and was dedicated to Henry Lushington,* an ardent admirer, with whom the author was on a visit in September, 1847, ^"d whose friendship was one of the most prized in his life. With the third edition (1850) began the series of extensive emenda- tions, omissions, and additions, which were continued in the fourth and fifth editions of 185 1 and 1853. The hint for the story is by some believed to have been given in Johnson's Rasselas. " The princess thought, that of all sublunary things, knowledge was the best ; she desired, first, to learn all sciences, and then proposed to found a college of learned women, in which she would preside, that, by convers- ing with the old and educating the young, she might divide her time between the acquisition and commu- nication of wisdom, and raise up for the next age models of prudence and patterns of piety." It has been suggested by others that the inspiration came from Defoe or Margaret Cavendish's Female Academy. By others, again, the clue to the genesis of The Prin- cess is found in the lines : " This were a medley ! we should have him back Who told the ' Winter's Tale' to do it for us," and the central idea in the plot of Love' s Labour s Lost, which turns upon a three years' enforced seclusion in study and apart from women: " Our court shall be a little Academe, Still and contemplative in living art." The question is not a grave one and need not be * " If all Mr. Tennyson's writings had by some strange accident been destroyed, Henry Lushington's wonderful memory could, I believe, have reproduced the whole." — Memoir of Henry Lushing- ton, by G. S. Venables. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 6l definitely answered. The scene of the Prologue is laid in the south of England, and the surroundings are those of Sir John Simeon's garden at Swainston. The host, in whose grounds the opening festival is held, is probably the poet's friend under the disguise of Sir Walter Vivian. Some lines (afterwards omit- ted) in the Epilogue, which was almost entirely re- written for the third edition, give an account of the original design, and its subsequent development: " Here closed our compound story, which at first Had only meant to banter little maids With mock heroics and with parody ; But slipt in some strange way, crost with burlesque, From mock to earnest, even into tones Of tragic, and with less and less of jest To such a serious end." Besides remodelling the Prologue and Epilogue, and in many respects shaping the poem to a later design, Tennyson added to the third edition the exquisite songs, which alone secure for the work in which they are set an immortality of remembrance. It already contained that wonderful isometric lyric, Tears, Idle Tears, which I am inclined to regard as the most characteristic of his genius of any poem ever writ- ten by the author, and that for two reasons. It is his most successful expression of the emotion of vague regret, of dumb inarticulate pain of heart, a province of universal human feeling, which Tenny- son alone among poets* has found a voice to render, and thus made peculiarly his own. Here, as in the lines : * If he have a rival in this province it is Goethe. 62 A TENNYSON PRIMER. " Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones, O Sea !"* he has sounded the hidden and mysterious places of the soul, whence at times wells up a nameless and a causeless sorrow, and to its incommunicable speech the chords of his music vibrate. And of the music the form, too, is all his own. That the measure is the measure of Hamlet and the. Paradise Lost is difficult to realise. The subtle sweetness of the modulation is typical of Tennyson's handling of our great national metre, and is displayed here in its fullest perfection. He discovered in it a lyric quality hitherto unsus- pected, and if it be objected that the division into stanzas and the recurrence of the phrase " days that are no more'' serves to compensate for the absence of rhyme, it is only necessary to turn to the '' small sweet idyll," "Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height," where without stanza or definite rhyme the effect of lyric movement is perfectly at- tained. In the concluding lines of the last-named poem there is much onomatopoeic beauty : f " Myriads of rivulets hurrying through the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees." * " Written," said Tennyson, " in a Lincolnshire lane at five o'clock in the morning." f "Onomatopoeic effects are common in Tennyson, as in such a passage as this : "Plunged : and the Jlood drew j yet I caught her ; Ihen Oaring one arm, and bearing in my left The weight of all the hopes of half the world, Strove to buffet to land in z'ain," ■ — The Princess. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 63 " Who after three such lines," wrote Charles Kings- ley, " will talk of English as a harsh and clumsy language, and seek in the effeminate and monotonous Italian for expressive melody of sound ? Who cannot hear in them the rapid rippling of the water, the stately calmness of the wood dove's note, and in the repetition of short syllables and soft liquids in the last line : * " The murmuring of innumerable bees" ? I may here note, in passing, possible suggestions for one or two of the songs. For the third Moore's lyric, How Sweet the Ansiver Echo Makes, and for the fifth the tenth section of Canto I. of Scott's Lay\ and the Anglo-Saxon fragment, Gudrun. To the fourth edition of The Princess were added the passages relating to the " weird seizures" of the Prince, and a few minor alterations were introduced into the text ; the fifth contained for the first time the Or here, where the sound of the violin is imitated in the " n"s and " u"s. " All night have the roses heard The Jlute, violin, bassoon : All night has the casement jessamine stirred To the dancers dancing in tune," — Maud. * Of this idyll Symonds writes in his Studies of the Greek Poets : "It transfers with perfect taste the Greek idyllic feeling to Swiss scenery ; it is a fine instance of new wine being success- fully poured into old bottles, for nothing could be fresher, and not even the Thalysia is sweeter." But Mr. Symonds is wrong when he speaks of it (Appendix) as containing "no reiterated sounds." Let any one read the first half-dozen lines and judge for himself. The place of rhymed endings is taken by interlaced repetitions of the same words and phrases. The rhyming may not be regular, but the poem is full of rhymes. 64 A TENNYSON PRIMER. fifteen lines in the Prologue, beginning " O miracle of women." Among the many omissions which were made between the successive issues one possesses an interest which make it perhaps worthy of record. It occurs in the speech of the Princess in answer to Lady Blanche. " But Ida with a voice, that like a bell ToU'd by an earthquake in a trembling tower, Rang ruin, answered full of grief and scorn What ! ill our time of glory when the cause Noiv stands tip, first, a trophied pillar — now So dipt, so stinted in onr triumph — bai-rcd Evn front our free heart-thanks, and every way Thwarted and vext, and lastly catechised By our own creature ! one that made our la7i>s ! Our great she- Solon ! her that built the nest To hatch the cuckoo ! whom we called our friend ! But we will crush the lie that glances at ns As cloaking in the larger charities Some baby predilection : all amazed ! We must amaze this legislator more." [Here follow eight retained lines.] " Go help the half -brained dwarf Society, To find loio motives unto noble deeds. To fix all doubt ttpon the darker side y Go, fitter there for narrowest neighbourhoods. Old talker, haunt where gossip breeds and seethes. And festers in provincial sloth ! and you. That think we sought to practise on a life Risk'd for our own and trusted to our hands. What say you, sir? you hear us ; deem ye not ' Tis all too like that even now we scheme. In one broad death confounding friend and foe. To drug them all? revolve it ; yozi are man. And therefore no doubt wise." Both the poem and the character of the Princess A TENNYSON PRIMER. 65 have gained much by the rejection of these weak and tasteless lines. The pause that occurs at the close of the fourth canto when Lilia sings : " Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums," marks the " change in the music," the transition from gay to grave, the point at which the " enchanted rev- erie" passes into the serious allegory. It will be noticed that the songs at once reflect and focus the significant or uppermost sentiment of the cantos they separate and unite, and may be read as a clue to the poet's philosophy of the relations between the sexes. Around the child gather all the elements in the social problem, and in so far as Tennyson offers any solu- tion of that problem it is by emphasising the laws of nature which determine in their inexorable fashion the place of the man and the place of the woman in any social system that is to endure. To say that " Woman is not undevelopt man But diverse ; could we make her as the man, Sweet Love were slain ;" to say that they must " Sit side by side, fuU-summ'd in all their powers, Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-be" — this is but to give poetic expression to very evident things, but it is also to give expression to the only "thinkable" philosophy of the matter. Tennyson has added nothing to our knowledge, but he has beautifully summed for us, as an artist should, the teaching of nature, our mother. In many respects the distinctive elements in Ten- nyson's poetic genius — certainly those of his youthful 66 A TENNYSON PRIMER. genius — the branches of his art in which he excelled are most prominently exhibited and may be most advantageously studied in this poem. The idyll was a form borrowed indeed from the Greek, but, suited as it was to his powers, the form which he made espe- cially his own. And T/ic Princess is an idyll or series of idyllic pictures where the sweetness of his versifi- cation, his subtle skill in word-painting, and his keen and yet gracious vein of pleasantry meet under the felicitous auspices of a subject eminently iippropriate to their display. The Laureate's model in blank verse was Milton, and his verse displays the artist's reverence for a greater artist. Compared with Milton's, his blank verse is distinguished by the much larger proportion it contains of words of pure English stock, by the comparative frequency with which the pause comes at the end of the line and by his preference for the internal pause after the fourth syllable to that after the sixth, which was Milton's favourite. The splen- dour of the great wheeling circles of Milton's verse, its organ-like harmony, the billowy mounting volume of its music, is in large measure due to its periodic struc- ture. Milton constructed his verse in paragraphs, car- ing more for the effect of the whole than of its consti- tuent parts, and so arranging the pause and cadence of his single lines that the ear remains attent until the final strain is reached, in which the suggested harmo- nies are all resolved, each paragraph " swelling loudly Up to its climax, ami then dying proudly." With Tennyson the single line is more frequently sufficient for itself, the periodic system less conspicu- A TENNYSON PRIMER. 6/ ous. The traditional licences, elision such as is exhib- ited here : " O swallozu, stuallo'cu, if / could follow and light Upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill" — an occasional initial trochee, or in the second or fourth foot, in room of the iambus, and feminine endings, are to be found in Tennyson, as in most other writers, but he is more uniformly careful to avoid abruptness or harshness ; so much so, that his verse exhibits a more evenly polished surface than that of any other English poet. Among musical devices, alliteration ranks as his first favourite, and is used throughout his poetry with unusually fine effect and with less insistence than by Mr. Swinburne, whose monotony in this respect is not infrequently exasperating, Tennyson's allitera- tion, skilfully introduced in its unapparent form when the similarity of sound occurs in the body rather than in the initial letters of words, as, for example : " A /ife that lea.ds melod'ioxxs days," accounts for much of his melodic beauty. His pov- erty in rhymes, a point in which he offers a striking contrast to Browning, who is royal in affluence, is particularly noticeable in his longest rhymed poem, In Me/iioriam J* a poverty compensated by studied and ingenious arrangement of alliterative phrases, as once more, for example : " Wild Inrd whose wdixble /iqui(/ Jte'eet. " Instances may be found, I believe, in every section of this poem. A critical and scientific workman in his * See Tennyson and " Jn A/finoriain," by J. Jacobs (Uavid Nutt, London.) 68 A TENNYSON PRIMER. measures, Tennyson might have been trusted to write upon any subject at any length without fear of descent into the slipshod or turgid movement of Wordsworth's lengthy disquisitions. The word-painting of TJic Pri/icess, no less than its versification, will reward a careful stud}'. It seems that the author was in the habit of noting a scene or aspect of nature in a few brief phrases, as a painter might with a dash or two of colour suggest a scheme for future elaboration. Here is the result where the memory of an approaching storm, seen from the brow of Snowdon, supplied the original suggestion : " As one that climbs a peak to gaze O'er land and main, and sees a great black cloud Drag inward from the deeps, a wall of night, Blot out the slope of sea from verge to shore, And suck the blinding splendour from the sand, And quenching lake by lake and tarn by tarn Expunge the world." I am unacquainted with any poem exhibiting a more luxuriant richness of colour or more vivid and delicate picturesqueness of imagery. Illustration is needless, but take this : " Many a little hand Glanced like a touch of sunshine on the rocks. Many a light foot shone like a jewel set In the dark crag." In its entirety, T/ie Pn'rui'ss, though not his most ambitious work, displays, as I have already indicated, the qualities of Tennyson's genius which the future will speak of as '* Tennysonian," as exclusively his own, the qualities which of all English poets he pos- sessed and cultivated in the fullest measure. It is the highest conceivable reach in decorative art, nor can A TENNYSON PRIMER. 69 lyrical sweetness be further sweetened. Half classic, half mediaeval in feeling, wholly modern in subject and treatment, it represents the character of the author's mind. His culture enabled him to embellish and enrich with a wealth of suggestion and illustration so fresh a theme as the emancipation of woman, in a style of captivating, dream-like phantasy, and, as in The Idylls of the King, the strongest elements in his nature, mysticism and romance, are subtly woven through the whole. The following letter, the most important and inter- esting ever written by Tennyson in connexion with his poetry, was addressed to Mr. S. E. Dawson, author of A Study of " The Princess." It naturally claims a place here : "Aldworth, Haslemere, Surrey, November 21, 1882. " Dear Sir : I thank you for your able and thought- ful essay on The Princess. You have seen, among other things, that if women ever were to play such freaks, the tragic and the burlesque might go hand in hand. I may tell you that the songs were not an afterthought. Before the first edition came out I deliberated with myself whether I should put songs in between the separate divisions of the poem ; again, I thought, the poem will explain itself ; but the public did not see that the child, as you say, was the heroine of the piece, and at last I conquered my laziness and inserted them. You would be still more certain that the child was the true heroine, if instead of the first song as it now stands, " ' As thro' the land at eve we went,' I had printed the first song which I wrote, The Losing yo A TENNYSON PRIMER. of the Child. The child is sitting on the bank of the river, and playing with flowers ; a flood comes down ; a dam has been broken through ; the child is borne down by the flood ; the whole village distracted ; after a time the flood has subsided ; the child is thrown safe and sound again upon the bank, and all the women are in raptures. I quite forget the words of the bal- lad, but I think I may have it somewhere. "Your explanatory notes are very much to the pur- pose, and I do not object to your finding parallelisms. They must always recur. A man (a Chinese scholar) some time ago wrote to me, saying that in an unknown, untranslated Chinese poem there were two whole lines of mine almost word for word. Why not ? Are not human eyes all over the world looking at the same objects, and must there not consequently be coinci- dences of thought and impressions and expressions ? It is scarcely possible for any one to say or write any- thing in this late time of the world to which in the rest of the literature of the world a parallel could not somewhere be found. But when you say that this passage or that was suggested by Wordsworth or Shelley or another, I demur, and, more, I wholly dis- agree. There was a period in my life when, as an artist — Turner, for instance — takes rough sketches of language, etc., in order to work them eventually into some great picture ; so I was in the habit of chroni- cling, in four or five words or more, whatever might strike me as picturesque in nature. I never put these down, and many and many a line has gone away on the north wind, but some remain — e.g. : " ' A full sea glazed with muffled moonlight.* " Suggestion : The sea one night at Torquay, when A TENNYSON PRIMER. 'J\ Torquay was the most lovely sea village in England, though now a smoky town ; the sky was covered with thin vapour, and the moon was behind it. " ' A great black cloud Drags inward from the deep.' " Suggestion : A coming storm seen from the top of Snowdon. In the Idylls of the King : " ' With all Its stormy crests that smoke against the skies.' " Suggestion : A storm that came iijion us in the mid- dle of the North Sea. " ' As the water-lily starts and slides.' " Suggeetion : Water-lilies in my own pond, seen in a gusty day with my own eyes. They did start and slide in the sudden puffs of wind till caught and stayed by the tether of their own stalks — quite as true as Wordsworth's simile, and more in detail. " ' A wild wind shook — Follow, follow, thou shalt win.' "Suggestion : I was walking in the New Forest. A wind did arise, and : " ' Shake the songs, the whispers and the shrieks Of the wild wood together.' " The wind, I believe, was a west wind, but because I wished the Prince to go south, I turned the wind to the south, and naturally the wind said, ' Follow.' " I believe the resemblance which you note is just a chance one. Shelley's lines are not familiar to me, though, of course, if they occur in T/ie Prometheus I must have read them. " I could multiply instances, but I will not bore you ; and far indeed am I from asserting that books. 72 A TENNYSON PRIMER. as well as nature, are not and ought not to be sug- gestive to the poet. I am sure that I myself and many others find a peculiar charm in those passages of such great masters as Virgil or Milton where they adopt the creation of a bygone poet, and reclothe it, more or less, according to their own fancy. " But there is, I fear, a prosaic set growing up among us, editors of booklets, bookworms, index- hunters, or men of great memories and no imagination, who impute themselves to the poet, and so believe that he, too, has no imagination, but is forever poking his nose between the pages of some old volume in or- der to see what he can appropriate. The)' will not allow one to say, ' Ring the bells ' without finding that we have taken it from Sir P. Sydne}', or even to use such a simple expression as the ocean * roars ' without find- ing out the precise verse in Homer or Horace from which we have plagiarised it. (Fact !) " I have known an old fishwife who had lost two sons at sea clench her fist at the advancing tide on a stormy day and cry out : ' Ay, roar ; do ! How I hates to see thee show thy white teeth ! ' Now, if I had adopted her exclamation, and put it into the mouth of some old woman in one of m}' poems, I dare say the critic would have thought it original enough, but would most likely have advised me to go to nature for my old woman, and not to my imagination ; and, indeed, it is a strong figure. Here is another little anecdote about suggestion. When I was about twenty or twenty-one I went on a tour to the Pyrenees. Ljnng among these mountains before a waterfall that comes down one thousand or twelve hundred feet, I sketched it (according to my custom then) in these words : A TENNYSON PRIMER. 73 " ' Slow-drnpping veils of thinnest lawn.' When I printed this a critic informed me that ' lawn' was the material used in theatres to imitate a water- fall, and graciously added : ' Mr. T. should not go to the boards of a theatre, but to nature herself, for his suggestions.' And I had gone to nature herself. I think it is a moot point whether, if I had known how that effect was produced on the stage, I should have ventured to publish the line. I beg you to believe me, etc., A. Tennyson." " P. S. — By the by, you are wrong about ' the trem- ulous isles of light ;' they are isles of light, spots of sunshine coming through the eaves, and seeming to slide from one to the other, as the procession of girls * move under the shade.' And surely the ' beard-blown goat ' involves a sense of the wind blowing the beard on the height of the ruined pillar." CHAPTER IV. Arthur Henry Hallam, Tennyson's college friend and constant companion, died in September, 1833. From their first meeting until the companionship was broken by death not quite five years elapsed,* and al- most seventeen years passed away before InMemoriam. the elegy which has become the imperish- 1850. able monument of their friendship was given to the world. f The poems composing it were written at intervals during Tennyson's life in London, and the whole was complete or almost com- plete long prior to its publication. '"A. T. has near a volume of poems — elegiac — in memory of Arthur Hallam," wrote Fitzgerald in January, 1845 ; " don't you think the world wants other notes than elegiac now ? Lycidas is the utmost length an elegiac should reach. But Spedding praises ; and I suppose the ele- giacs will see daylight, public daylight, one day." When the elegiacs did see daylight, five years later, they were published anonymously, but Tennyson's name upon the title-page was not necessary to pro- claim him the author. * /;/ AI cm or tarn, xxii. \ An interesting circumstance connects Hallam with another great English elegy, Adoiiais. It was first printed in Pisa, under the direction of Byron, and a copy of the pamphlet was brought by Hallam from Italy. The poem appeared for the first time in an English edition, accessible to English readers, in The Transactions of the Caml)ridge Union, 1834. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 75 The attention of a reader of In Memoriavi is at the outset naturally directed to the form of the stanza, which is unvaried throughout. The arrange- ment of the transposed quatrain has much to do with the effect produced by the poem as a whole and in its several parts ; it strikes the key-note of the elegiac mood, and thus preserves throughout sections that deal with very varying subject-matter the unity of sentiment which binds them together ; and when the poet is dealing with the philosophical problems that naturally suggest themselves in such a poem, the thought flows with less interruption into the mould of this than it could conceivably have done into any other rhymed form among English measures. I have no doubt that the possibilities in the stanza for refiective elegiac poetry were suggested to Tennyson by the short elegy composed in the same metre by Ben Jon- son.* Might one not accept this, for example, as part of the later poem ? " Who, as an offering at your shrine, Have sung this hymn, and here entreat One spark of your diviner heat To light upon a love of mine." The same measure was employed by Lord Herbert, of Cherbury,f in a short love poem of small merit but more interest, as containing verses such as these, which so nearly recall the later music : " O no, belov'd ! I am most sure Those virtuous habits we acquire, As being with the soul entire, Must with it evermore endure. * Ben Jonson's Underwoods. f Born 1581. Died 1648. 76 A TENNYSON PRIMER. •' Else should our souls in vain elect ; And vainer yet were heaven's laws, When to an everlasting cause They gave a perishing effect. " These eyes again thine eyes shall see, And hands again these hands infold ; And all chaste pleasures can be told, Shall with us everlasting be."* I do not know that Tennyson has anywhere invented anew poetic form ; but here, as throughout his poetry, he proves his possession of that singular penetration of judgment which made choice with perfect instinct of the formal mould best suited to his theme. As will be seen, I incline to regard the pre-eminent quality in his genius as keen-sighted judgment rather than power of initiative or originating way of thovight. The orig- inal thinker is original in the disengagement of his men- tal processes from the grooves in which the thoughts of ordinary men run, and in his presentation of the facts with which all are familiar in new and unex- pected relationships. Tennyson — and no better ex- ample of my meaning need be adduced than this poem — is a great and deservedly popular poet because his way of thought is that of the cultivated minds of his time ; and his large and indisputable influence in the shaping of the ideas of that time is in great degree due to the ripeness of the popular mind to receive those ideas, and to the fact that his precision and beauty of expression made clear to his readers what they had already themselves obscurely felt and thought. Does any one ask : " Is this not to be a great poet, a poet of the first order ?" I would answer, " It * From An Ode upon the Question moved. Whether Love should continue forever? A TENNYSON PRIMER. TJ is to be a great poet, but not a poet of the first order, for it recalls the greatness of Pope and of Gray, it sug- gestsno companionship with Dante, with Milton, or with Wordsworth." It may, perhaps, again be asked : "Is not Virgil a poet of the first order, and is not Tennyson comparable to Virgil ?" To me it seems that fortu- nate as Tennyson was in the hour of his birth, he lacked a supreme poetic lot such as fell to Virgil — still, in Bacon's words, " The chastest poet and the royalest that to the memory of man is known" — to be the acknowledged poetic representative of Rome's imperial race, to have for theme, majestic and incom- parable, the foundation and the glories of Rome itself. Published when the century had reached its middle year. In Mcmoriam best reflects of any poem written during the century the current moods of its thought and feeling. Here are put into verse the problems of the head and heart that were uppermost in men's minds in the days in which he wrote, so that the poet, while he speaks of his personal sorrow, is really a man of his time, speaking for his contemporaries. For this reason /;/ Memoriam is an elegy in a class by itself, nor can it, to any purpose, be compared with poems like Lycidas or Adonais. Each of these is a dirge, in which the person of the lost friend is never lost sight of, whereas the later elegy is a series of lyrics, many of which are general reflections in the presence of death the thought-compeller, rather than songs of mourning for a definite grief.* And, moreover, be- * " It is rather the cry of the whole human race than mine. In the poem altogether private grief swells out into thought of and hope for the whole world. It begins with a funeral and ends with a marriage, begins with death and ends in promise of a new life — a sort of Divine Comedy, cheerful at the close. It is a very im- 78 A TENNYSON PRIMER. cause it mirrors the life of the mind and heart in the valley of the shadow, its appeal is to emotions that are universal and thoughts that visit the homes of all the world. While, then, an expression of personal loss, and modern in its theological and philosophical features, In Memoriam is most purely human in its interest of all elegiac poems that ever were written. Like Gray's elegy, in this predominance of the human element over the personal it takes a place in the hearts of its readers that the marvellous art and witchery of colour in Lycidas and Adonais can never give them. In the history of theology In Memoriam marks the beginnings of that school of thought represented within the Church by Frederick Denison Maurice — the Broad Church movement, as it is called, which was itself the outcome of the more liberal and deeper view of life, its meaning and its issues, presented in the Transcendental philosophy. But while the in- fluences of Kant and the later German thinkers, radi- ated in England by Coleridge and Carlyle, are abun- dantly apparent in Tennyson's philosophy, fairly sum- med in this poem, we must be careful to abstain from any effort to find in the poetic statement of his thought any definite scheme or system. If I were asked to give some succinct statement of Tennyson's philosophy, I should say that he emphasises in every line of his reflective poetry the creed of the higher emotions. Born as he was into a critical epoch, he personal poem, as well as personal. There is more about myself in Ulysses, which was written under the sense of loss and all that had gone by, but that still life must be fought out to the end. It was more written with the feeling of his loss upon mo than many poems in /// Menioiiaiit." — " K tin arks of Tfiuiysoii," quoted b_v the editor in the Nineteenth Century, January, 1893. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 79 could not but feel the uncertainties that mar, the doubt that threatens the most firmly built and most zealously guarded dogmas. Yet Tennyson's strength as a thinker seems to me to have lain in the sceptical attitude of his mind, not indeed towards the older forms of faith, but towards the newer creeds of science, which in the first flush of their youth claimed an easy victory, ere the ground upon which the battle was to be fought lay clearly mapped or determined before men's eyes. In his refusal to accept the negatives of science — a refusal more than justified even before his own death — in his conviction that the uncertainties of the new teaching were more uncertain, the doubts as to the reality of its solutions of the old problems to be doubted more gravely than those attaching to revela- tion, in this the penetration of his judgment was eminently proved. It is this grasp of real amid in- numerable false issues, this intellectual sanity, which dignifies Tennyson as a thinker no less than a poet. If he lacked the power of imaginative synthesis, which in a brain like Plato's marshals the facts of the world under the unity of a self-consistent system, his an- alytic faculty probed deep and far. I have said that briefly summed Tennyson's creed maybe described as the creed of the higher emotions. The powerlessness of the human mind face to face with the tremendous problems of " why ? whence ? whither?" its inherent incapacity to solve these ques- tions, was forced upon him, as it was forced upon his contemporaries, Clough and Arnold. But while with them in this, he did not share their spiritual dejection or sad stoic acquiescence in an unavoidable lot. Fall- ing back upon a testimony higher than any that could be submitted to a critical scientific examination, he 8o A TENNYSON PRIMER. took up his position in the ancient and impregnable fortress of the soul that refuses to doubt its Divine origin, its home in God. " If e'er, when faith had fallen asleep, I heard a voice, ' Believe no more,' And heard an ever-breaking shore That tumbled in the Godless deep; " A warmth within the breast would melt The freezing reason's colder part. And like a man in wrath the heart Stood up and answer'd, ' I have felt.'"* This creed, based upon the higher emotions, or, as we may perhaps call it, the evidence of the best and noblest moments of the spirit's inner life, is the spirit- ual message borne to his youthful friend by the An- cient Sage: " For nothing worthy proving can be proven, Nor yet disproven ; wherefore thou be wise, Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt, And cling to faith beyond the forms of faith." The history of the soul in grief, such a grief, with its accompanying cloud of torturing doubts, as Death, the parter of friends, alone can bring, is in this poem delineated with a fidelity we dare not challenge. Its passage from affection for an earthly to devotion to- wards a heavenly friend, from vague doubt to hope- ful trust, from " wild unrest " to peace, is strikingly matched in the history of the soul in Carlyle's Sartor Jiesartus. From "the everlasting no" until the " centre of indifference" is passed the shadow lies deep upon the path, and then slowly "a full new life" * /;/ Menioriain, cxxiv. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 8 1 is breathed, drawn in part from the subtle helpful- ness of Nature in her time of spring,* until " the ever- lasting yea" is realised. In Mcmoriam has been com- pared with the sonnet-sequence of Shakespeare, and the comparison is not without interest. Many of Tennyson's phrases were borrowed from these son- nets; in both series of poems the deepest feelings and convictions of the heart and mind are reflected, and in both the labour of the artist strangely mingles a pleasure with its pain. While it outlines no system of thought, no philos- ophy of consolation, Iti Memoriam is pre-eminently a poem strong in soothing influences, in assuaging remedies for the pain of loss. It can hardly be said that Tennyson fortifies the mind and heart as Brown- ing or as Wordsworth fortifies them. He supports and consoles, indeed, in that the reader is taken into his confidence, and learns what were the supports and consolations of the poet in his dark hour. Thus by sympathy with the sorrow he is drawn insensibly to sympathy with hope renewed and faith regained. In the presentment of his own experience, in that series of delicate sketches of the healing influences of time and nature allied against victorious despair Tennyson speaks to every mourner an unforgettable word. Here, perhaps, may be fitly noticed the art displayed by Tennyson in making Nature sympathise with his va- rying moods. He finds in her an echo of his own secret feeling, and her sights and sounds minister to his heart. " Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro' the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground." * In Memoriam^ Ixxxvi. 82 A TENNYSON PRIMER. The lucid beauty and completeness of the scenes depicted in his earlier poems, in themselves delight- ful, prepare in each case the mind for the mood or sentiment that prevails throughout the story. In The Lotos-Eaters, for example, or in such idyllic scenes as are drawn in poems like The Miller s Daughter, Nature is in perfect harmony with the prevailing emotion, at once intensifying and interpreting it. Much of the charm resident in Tennyson's setting of tales, them- selves destitute of any special interest, may be directly traced to the exquisite appropriateness of the back- ground chosen and the no less exquisite skill in its pourtrayal. A careful study of In Memoriain reveals more of design than is at first apparent in the arrangement of the lyrics.* Probably because it was long mature, before it was given to the world, the changes in later editions, if we except verbal alterations, are fewer than is the case with most of Tennyson's longer poems. f Two sections only were added : xxxix. (" Old warder of these buried bones") in the pocket volume edition, and lix. (" O Sorrow, wilt thou live with me ?") in the fourth edition of 185 1. The design, therefore, was complete from the first, and the sequence of sections has not been interfered with. It seems clear that Nos. i.-lvi. (now Ivii. by reason of the interpolated "yew tree" section) were complete in themselves and were written, most of them, in the first year. No. * Tennyson is quoted by Mr. Knowles {^Nineteenth Century, Jan- uary, 1S93) as saying that there are "nine natural groups" of stanzas in the poem. These are : 1-8 ; g-20 ; 20-27 ; 28-49 ; 50-58 ; 59-72 ; 72-98 ; 99-103 ; 104-131. \ Few for Tennyson ; about fifty verbal and other changes were made since its publication. A TENNYSON PRIMER. 83 Ivi. (Ivii.) has a marked conclusion, and Ivii. (Iviii.) is introductory to a supplement. That supplement be- gan with " He past, a soul of nobler tone," to which he afterwards prefixed lix. It is to be observed that he himself makes lix. begin the sixth of his nine groups. These five groups might be called Death, Burial, the Past, Christmas Hopes, the Future. The lapse of time is clearly marked ; the three Christmas seasons following the death of Hallam, in September, 1833, are each the subject of a section or sections,* and the whole is therefore a mental history of the years of the poet's life immediately following 1833. The Epilogue is a marriage greeting to Cecilia Ten- nyson, who, in October, 1842, was married to Edward Law Lushington. One more word may be added. I note in this poem a purity of colour in its pictorial passages, a quieter music than is elsewhere to be found in Tennyson's poetry. To one who takes up a volume of his verse after a volume by, let us say, a contemporary — Mat- thew Arnold — the colour seems glaring, and at times the music loud and even noisy. Arnold's ideal in the poetic art was a chastened simplicity, a reliance for effect in a poem, to use his own phrase concerning Wordsworth, solely on the weight and force of that which with entire fidelity it utters. Tennyson's deco- rative art, his love of colour for its own sake, of music for its own sake, lead him at times into what must always seem to the highly cultivated sense extrava- gances of colour, an over-profusion, a lush luxuriance, and into similar extravagances of sound. To put it briefly, he rarely trusts his thought, as Wordsworth *xxviii.-xx.x. ; Ixviii. ; civ.-cv. 84 A TENNYSON PRIMER. trusted it, to build for itself a natural home of expres- sion. So much an artist was he that Nature could not speak his language, and hence the inevitable word is rarely heard in his poetry. Compare a poem like that entitled Palladium, or a poem like that To Marguerite, beginning : " Yes, in the sea of life enisled" — compare these with almost any poems by Tennyson, and it will be seen that in the one case the power and charm of the verse belong in the main to the idea, in the other case frequently to the language in which it is clothed. Save in In Mcmoriam and in some of the finer pas- sages of the Idylls, I do not know that elsewhere in Tennyson's more ambitious poetry is the decorative instinct, the laying of colour for the sake of colour, so restrained, the reliance upon the emotion or the idea so complete, the expression so simply and directly nat- ural, as in the above and in a hundred other poems by Wordsworth or Arnold. If I am right, therefore, a purer ideal of art, a more fastidious taste guides the artist's hand in this than in any other part of his work : " Till now the doubtful dusk reveal'd The knoll once more where, couch'd at ease, The white kine glimmer'd, and the trees Laid their dark arms about the field ; " And, suck'd from out the distant gloom, A breeze began to tremble o'er The large leaves of the sycamore, And fluctuate all the still perfume, " And gathering freshlier overhead, Rock'd the fuU-foliaged elms, and swung The heavy-folded rose, and flung The lilies to and fro, and said, A TENNYSON PRIMER. 85 " ' The dawn, the dawn,' and died away ; And East and West, without a breath, Mixt their dim lights, like life and death, To broaden into boundless day." Had he been content at all times to trust his subject as he has trusted it here, Tennyson would not only have been a greater poet, he would have been even a greater artist than he was, for the greatest artists are those who allow Nature to write in their names, and are themselves too wise to interfere with or add a word to the language she speaks. It seems a far journey from the philosophy of In Memoriatn to the philosophy of Maud, from the poetry of a sad resignment to that of revolt ; yet there is little difficulty in recognizing the same hand in both, the same worker in different moods. As has been already observed, the germ from which Maud was developed is the lyric, (^3,^4 and " Oh, that 'twere possible," contributed in other Poems. 1837 to The Tribute, a collection of miscel- 1855. laneous unpublished poems by various authors, published by John Murray, and edited by Lord Northampton. Among the other contributors were Wordsworth, Landor, Aubrey de Vere, Henry Taylor, Southey, Monckton Milnes, and Charles Ten- nyson. The proceeds from the sale of this publica- tion were intended to relieve the necessities of the Rev. Edward Smedley, a clergyman in ill health and threatened with loss of eyesight. Smedley died be- fore the book appeared, and the proceeds were given to his family. In reply to Milnes' application to him for a contribution, Tennyson wrote : " Three summers back, provoked by the incivility of editors, I swore an oath that I would never again have to do with their 86 A TENNYSON PRIMER. vapid books, and I broke it in the sweet face of Heaven when I wrote for Lady What's-her-name Wortley. But then her sister wrote to Brookfield, and said she (Lady W.) was beautiful ; so I could not help it. But whether the Marquis be beautiful or not, I don't much mind ; if he be, let him give God thanks, and make no boast. To write for people with prefixes to their names is to milk he-goats ; there is neither honour nor profit." This characteristic effusion evoked an indignant remonstrance from Milnes, to whom Tennyson again wrote : " What has so jaun- diced your good-natured eyes as to mistake harmless banter for insolent irony?" and promised his help. The promise w'as fulfilled by the contribution above mentioned. These stanzas developed in after years into the lyrical melodrama, which was Tennyson's fa- vourite among his own poems, and the development was due to a remark of Sir John Simeon's to the effect that the lines suggested a story which ought to be told. The edition of 1855 gave the poem as continu- ous ; the edition of the following year contained some new passages. In subsequent issues the poem was divided into two, and eventually into three parts, and styled " a monodrama. " J/ai/ci was greeted with an almost unanimous chorus of disapproval. Readers, critical and uncritical alike, complained that it was unreal, fantastic, had " the serious defect of leaving one in a painful state of con- fusion as to the limits of the sane and the insane ; "* the chief charge of all being that it was an inde- fensible defence of war. As a psychological study of a difficult subject, it was natural that J/(7//wt a fine word in it." We are growing more and more accustomed to outrageous insanities in criticism; we are not now surprised to find it asserted that the quality of Shakespere's dramatic art is matched in the last new play, that the splendours of Milton's prose are reproduced in the trivial clevernesses of a magazine article. That a critic should say of Enoch Arden, therefore, that "there is not a fine word in it," does not surprise us ; though the truth is just the op- posite of this, that it is a poem in which a simple subject is adorned with all " the fine words," all the wealth of language at the poet's command. It is, as Mr. Bagehot long ago said, a perfect instance of or- nate or decorative as opposed to pure art. " While Enoch was abroad on wrathful seas, Or often journeying landward ; for in truth Enoch's white horse, and Enoch's ocean-spoil In ocean-smelling osier, and his face, Rough-reddened with a thousand winter gales, Not only to the market-cross were known, But in the leafy lanes behind the down, Far as the portal-warding lion-whelp, And peacock yew-tree of the lonely Hall, Whose Friday fare was Enoch's ministering." "So much," as Mr. Bagehot said, "has not often been made of selling fish." We are presented with a portrait of an unreal sailor, painted in unreal colours, upon an unreal canvas, "a sailor crowded all over with "ornament and illustration." The key to this A TENNYSON PRIMER. 107 poem is to be found in a letter of Fitzgerald's, written just before its composition — "Alfred wants a story to treat, being full of poetry with nothing to put it in. " — The subject when found was all but lost beneath the magnificence of its " poetic" treatment. Enoch Arden is the best example that can be selected from the author's works of that weakness in his artistic nature which seemingly made it impossible for him to trust his subject, to permit it to speak for itself. But the grand distinction of the greatest artists is this, that their action predominates over their expression, that they regard the whole more than the parts, the idea, therefore, above the language ; and their aim is ac- complished not in the luxuriance of their imagery, the wealth of their colour, or the multiplicity of their illustration, but, as I have elsewhere phrased it, when they leave upon the reader's mind one pure, simple, affecting outline, one undying image of perfect fea- ture. In this poem of Tennyson, as in many other of his poems — here, I think, pre-eminently — he errs by overlaying a simple and pathetic tale by splendour of language altogether alien to it, by whose instrumen- tality it is removed out of the real world of things as they are into an altogether unreal world of things as they are not. The action is not permitted to control the expression, but is really subordinated to it ; is made the occasion of a magnificent display of verbal and pictorial wealth. When one thinks of Enoch Arden, one thinks first of that matchless description of the island in the tropics upon which the ship- wrecked sailor is thrown : a description, as I say, matchless, but quite unessential to the story, quite out of keeping with the feelings of the shipwrecked sailor, a purple patch which distracts the mind from Io8 A TENNYSON I'RIMER. the main business of the piece, wliich is to tell a sim- ple, pathetic tale of simple fisher-folk. It is a noteworthy fact that this poem is among the most popular, if not the most popular, of Tennyson's works ; it certainly has been more frequently chosen for translation into other languages than any other of his poems — a proof, if any were required, how few are the lovers of pure, of restrained, of classic art even among the readers of poetry. The popularity of Enoch Arden is comparable to the popularity of the May Queen, a poem so full of false sentiment and false pathos as to be painful to a reader of any fine- ness of sensibility ; so much so, that I doubt whether such a reader ever thinks of turning to it again after the first reading. Think of an artist in the great style, like Milton, indulging in these puling senti- mentalities ! But it was with poems such as these that Tennyson made his irresistible appeal to the wide circle of his uncritical admirers, an appeal which may be compared to that made by Millais with his popular pictures. A noticeable contrast to Enoch Arden is the first of the dialect poems. The Northern Farmer, published in the same volume. This is a study of real life ; here the patient, observing eye has been at work, here the artist for once conceals his art, and speaks the real language of men. The poems in dialect are more dramatic, because infinitely more true to life, than any work can ever be of the order to which Enoch Arden belongs. They are remarkable, too, as revealing an unexpected humorist in the aristocratic poet, a sympathetic humorist, who was at home in the rural cottage as much as in the courts of princes. The Northern Farmer was another proof of the extra- A TENNYSON PRIMER. IO9 ordinary versatility of Tennyson's genius, and in some respects the most striking poem in this volume. Aylmcrs Field, of which the story was told to the author by his friend Woolner, the artist, is redeemed from slightness by the intensity and fervour of its rhetoric, culminating in the funeral sermon. In Sea Dreams the decorative method employed in Enoch Ardcii is again conspicuous, but the theme is trivial and the treatment almost languid. But in TitJiouus^ the old mastery, the old, inimitable skill is once more apparent. It is in the classical studies that Tenny- son's art seems faultless. With all their exquisite beauty of form there is a dignity, a reserve apparent which adds immeasurably to their charm. Ulysses, Tithonus, Lucretius, and Detneter are something more than delicately woven dreams, phantasies in colour and sound. Akin to The Lady of Shalott, they yet possess something higher ; here is the Greek sharp- ness of outline, with the Greek simplicity of motive ; here is a chiselled perfection of phrase. The classi- cal studies are, in my judgment, the poems of the author which give us by far the highest sense of his power, whether intellectual or poetic. Of the remaining poems in this volume, The Grand- mother maybe noted as a favourite with the poet him- self, and The Flower a.s 3. not unnatural protest against the fickle admirers and critics who found nothing in the poet's work to reverence until it became the ob- ject of imitation, and then, again, when " most could raise the flower, since all had got the seed," found it of trivial value. The other pieces were The Voyage, The Ringlet (afterwards omitted), The Sailor Boy, * First appeared in the second number of the first volume of Cornhill {lito). no A TENNYSON FRIMER. previously published — in a Miscellany, " The Victoria Rcgia" — in 1861, T/ie Islet, a.nd The Attempts at Classic Afetres in Quantity, which had appeared in the Cornhill for December, 1863. In these last Tennyson's delicate perception of form enabled him to reproduce for English readers the musical aroma of some of the most complex classical metres, never before so ex- quisitely rendered. To them we may here add the Sapphic stanza, written for Professor Jebb's Primer of Greek Literature, in which, as he tells us, the genuine Greek cadence is preserved : " Faded every violet, all the roses ; Gone the glorious promise, and the victim, Broken in this anger of Aphrodite, Yields to the victor." It may be said of this volume that it was a series of experiments, most of which were comparative fail- ures. In the domestic idyll Tennyson was not work- ing the true vein of his genius. Enoch Arden, Aylniers Field, and Sea Dreams were subjects which Words- worth might have treated, but the very simplicity of the themes here chosen jars with the jewelled phras- ing, the ornate manner of Tennyson's setting. The artist is too conspicuously present in his creations. Versatility and growth in power were the signal features of Tennyson's art and artistic life. That the author of The Miller's Daughter should become the author of The Revenge, that in the brain of the poet of Claribel there was hidden the poet of Liicre- The Dramas, tins, that Queen Mary and Ifarold a.nd Becket belong to the same life-history as The Lotos- Eaters, The Talking Oak, and Locksley Hall — this is a source of natural admiration and wonder. This also A TENNYSON PRIMER. Ill is the true point of view for the critics who are lovers of Tennyson, the point of view from which his great- ness is most clearly discernible. While we stand at this point we can hardly praise too highly. But to forget that there are other points of view is to forget the true function of criticism, which is to draw distinc- tions, to insist upon distinctions, and to show wherein they exist. Splendidly versatile as was Tennyson's genius, the critic must say, then, he was not successful as a dramatist : two things stood in the path of his success. The genius of the time was against him ; the seclusion in which he chose to live his life was even more against him. Had any large share of the dramatic faculty fallen to his lot, these hostile influ- ences might in some degree have been overcome ; as it was, the discerning observer marks with surprise not, indeed, his failure, but the measure of his success. I have already indicated that we need not look for our author's strength in breadth and scope of conception, in imaginative synthesis, but in the balance of his judgment, in his analytic subtlety, in his assimilative powers, in the rich accessories of his artistic detail. To the most ordinary observer the plays are evidently full of fine things ; for example, the second scene in the third act of Queen Mary is grandly conceived and executed, as is also the concluding scene in the play, but this cannot satisfy us ; fine things do not make, they have never yet made, a drama. We must ask, Are Tennyson's plays dramatically conceived ; that is, do they find their natural home upon the stage ? Is the action an inevitable march ? Is the characterisa- tion vital ? Is the effect one and indivisible ? These questions cannot be answered in the affirmative, and yet in these we have only a few of the essentials 112 A TENNYSON PRIMER. of a drama. The plays of Tennyson in any real meaning of the word drama are failures ; we may speak of "them thus frankly. His admirers will tell us it is not so ; they will tell us that Tennyson is a great dramatist, that, as George Henry Lewes said, " The critics of to-morrow will unanimously declare Alfred Tennyson to be a great dramatic genius." It may be so, but some of us, when we read the tragedy of Mary Tudor, will do so more frequently in the version of Sir Aubrey de Vere than in that of the greater poet, and will content ourselves with saying that, although Tennyson's dramas are indisputably failures, they are quite as indisputably charged with high interest, with evidences of fine literary tact, with intellectual force ; and, above all, we will connect them with the growing power on the part of the author of holding his hand as he acquired a stronger because a severer style. The years devoted by Tennyson to the composi- tion of his dramatic works left their impress in the nobler, more virile, more restrained poetry of his later life. Harold^ Becket, and Queen Mary are studies of great crises in the history of the English race. Their inter- est is not merely individual, it is also national. In each the conflicting forces of English national life are represented in the persons of prominent men and women, outstanding historical figures of the time. The tragedy in each life is a scene in the great drama of the development of England. The tragedy of Saxon Harold, dead at the feet of Norman William, marked a crisis which seemed to bode for England a bitter future, but it proved the beginning of her great- ness. In the tragedy of Becket, the struggle of the Church, the champion of the people's rights against A TENNYSON PRIMER. II3 the Crown, is represented in the person of that great churchman and of his king. Once more, what seemed ominous for the future was proved by the future the opening-day of English freedom. In Queen Mary the issue involves both the spiritual and temporal life of England. Shall the nation guide its own destinies, take its own counsel in matters ecclesiastical, as in civil, or do homage to a foreign power and accept the decrees of Rome ? Here, again, the cause of liberty rises triumphant from its own ashes, and the darkest hour is seen to be only the hour before the dawn. Throughout these dramas the idea of a Providence in history is the ruling idea in Tennyson's mind, a Providence that shapes the nation's ends, let kings and statesmen rough-hew them how they will. Harold wdiS dedicated to Lord Lytton, the son of the Lord Lytton who had attacked Tennyson in the satire of The JVew Tif?io?i, and to whom Tennyson had re- plied under the pseudonym of " Alcibiades" in the trenchant verses published in Punch. The old quarrel was thus healed, and in the introductory sonnet to Harold the hate-healing influences of time are glanced at, and the blossoming of unexpected good out of the heart of conflict and of evil. There is much in Harold, as there is much in Queen Mary, to praise ; the movement is more rapid, the action predominates over the dialogue and the ana- lysis of emotions to a greater degree than in the earlier play ; but no such interest as attaches to the person of Mary is present in it, and thus Harold falls shorter of success. There is little reason to believe that if re- presented on the stage this play could long hold a place among English dramas whose reappearance is always welcome. 114 A TENNYSON PRIMER. In Becket,^ as in Queen Mary, Tennyson, though he attains no dramatic success, creates striking characters in the persons of the stern Ecclesiastic and the unhappy Rosamond. Few readers can fail to be impressed by these powerful studies — studies of real insight and force. They redeem Tennyson's dramatic work and preserve our interest in it despite all the faults and weaknesses, which, regarding it as a whole, are too pal- pably betrayed. Harold cannot rank with either in poetical strength. The^ Falcon, produced at St. James' Theatre in December, 1879,! ^^ ^ light, unambitious, fanciful piece, in which the plot, borrowed from the story of Sir Federigo, told by Boccaccio in the ninth novel of the fifth day of the Decameron, gains nothing in the new dramatic setting. The humour of the Falcon is without point, and the element of romance in the orig- inal has melted away in the new version. In The Cup, produced at the Lyceum in January, i88i,| Tennyson was happier in subject, as well as treatment, and achieved a deserved and unequivocal success. The story, a short and tragic one, is derived from Plutarch's De Claris Mulieribus. The interest is centred in few characters, the action proceeds rapidly, and the catas- trophe is impressive and pathetic. In this brief drama the author approached very near the production of a play that might have held the stage. He seemed to be progressing in that knowledge of effects and that management of situations without which dramas may be written for the reader, but cannot hold the atten- tion of the spectator. But from unequivocal success * Produced at the Lyceum by Mr. Irving and Miss Ellen Terry in February, 1893. f By Messrs. Hare and Kendal. X With Miss Ellen Terry as Caniina. A TENNYSON PRIMER. II5 Tennyson passed to unequivocal failure once more. The Promise of May, produced at the Globe Theatre* in 1882, was the only prose work written by the re- presentative poet of his time. It was also his only dramatic work in which he touched upon a subject which in so many of his poems he had treated with an intensity of feeling and a delicacy of judgment un- surpassed by any other poet — the problem of the re- lation between Faith, the daughter of the Heart, and Science, the daughter of the Head. In his dramatic presentation of that problem in its social aspects Ten- nyson's judgment failed him. Whether intentional or not — and we know on the author's own authority that it was unintentionalf — the conclusion inevitably offers itself that out of agnosticism must proceed social ruin, that the loss of religion is the beginning of anarchy. The thesis, in itself perhaps legitimate, is enforced il- logically and through an offensive situation. The dra- matic instinct is absent from the play as a whole, and we need not wonder that critics, no less than people, felt that it was unworthy of its great author. It was a happy circumstance that in his last essay in drama Tennyson turned again to a world of old ro- mance. The Foresters, an English woodland piece, though slight in texture, possesses the true Tennyso- nian charm. The plot is that of one of the best-known midland tales, told in the spirited ballad, A Lytel Gcste of Robyn Hood. The atmosphere is the at- mosphere of As You Like It. There breathes through it the poet's love of England and English traditions and English folk, and in the forest walks there lurks no concealed problem of modern life. An idyllic * By Mrs. Bernard Beere. \ See biography above, p. 34. Il6 A TENNYSON PRIMER. masque, it recalls to the senses the glad sights and sounds of natural country life, and mingles with them the dream-like enchantment of a legend that recounts a merry, roguish life lived long ago. In this romantic pastoral Tennyson's dramatic essays found a fitting and fortunate conclusion. There can be no more striking passage in the history of poetry than that which puts on record the fruitage of Tennyson's genius in old age. Few even among thoughtful critics conceived of his Ballads and dramatic period as other than a day of de- Other Poems, cline, filled with experiments in an uncon- 1880. genial form by one who had already ex- hausted his best powers in the work that lay behind him. Nothing more was expected of Tennyson, the book seemed naturally and not un- worthily closed, nor was there need to await further development ere assigning to him his place among the poets of his race and country. Yet in the drama he had lost and found himself. Out of the heart of failure there blossomed a marvellous success, the more marvellous, perhaps, because unlooked for. The Ballads of 1880 had a vigour, a breadth, a movement surpassing any previous volume. The pulse of action, the spirit of true dramatic art, beat strongly in poems free at last from all traces of daintiness, of super- fine graces. The very music breathed a nobler air and moved to manlier measures. The Monologue, a form doubtless suggested by Browning's example, prevails, and is nowhere used even by Browning with greater ease or finer talent for rapid effects. In The Revenge* and in The Defence of Luckncnv we have * The closeness with which Tennyson followed his authority — Raleigh — in his account of the fight between the Revenge and a A TENNYSON PRIMER. II/ ballads comparable with any in English ; in Columbus a stirring force of passion and passion-matching lan- guage ; in the dialect poems, The Northern Cobbler and The Village Wife, a powerful realism; \x\ De Profundis a deep-reaching philosophy, for which it will be in vain to look in the poetry of twenty years previous. A full and grave maturity shines in the verse of Tennyson's closing years. The Ballads and Other Poems were inscribed to the poet's grandson, another Alfred Tennyson, then a year and a half old: " Crazy with laughter and babble and earth's new wine." In addition to the poems already mentioned, the volume contained The First Quarrel, Rizpah, Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, The Sisters, In the Children's Hospital, A Prefatory Sonnet, contributed to the first number of The Nineteenth Century, edited by Tenny- son's friend, Mr. Knowles ; Sonnets to W. H. Brook- field and to Victor Hugo, and a sonnet entitled Mon- tenegro; translations, The Battle of Brunanbuhr and Achilles over the Tre7ich, the lines To the Princess Frederica of Hanover, the lines for Sir John Frank- lin's cenotaph in Westminster, and the lines To Dante. The only other poem not mentioned above which was printed in this volume was The Voyage of Maeldune. Maildun is the hero of an ancient Celtic romance.* " navy of Spain " is only matched by that of Wolfe in his famous verses on The Burial of Sir fohn Moore. Much of Tennyson's ballad, save for the metrical arrangement, is almost word for word taken from Raleigh's pamphlet. See A Report of the Truth of the Fight about the Iks of Azores this last sommer, betwixt the' Revenge, one of her Majesty's shippes, and an Armada of the King of Spaine. (Reprinted by Edward Arber, 1S71.) * See Joyce's Ancient Celtic Romances. Il8 A TENNYSON PRIMER. The story belongs to the group of tales of sea voy- ages of which Sf. Brendan is the best known. The marvels seen by Maildun and his men are only par- tially related in Tennyson's ballad, and the tone of the original is lost, but the fantastic imaginative splen- dour of the legend could hardly be hidden even in its modern dress. The Tiresias volume was dedicated to Robert Browning, and strikes the personal as its predominant note. In the dedication to Fitzgerald, the translator of Omar Khayyam, and in the epilogue Tiresias and which speaks of his death ; in the teaching Other Poems, of the Ancient Sage, where in the person of 1885. ^j^g gggj. Tennyson sums the beliefs of his own life ; in the prefatory poem to his brother's volume of Sonnets, published after the author's death — in all these we may read the veteran poet's sense of an end not very far off : " Remembering all the golden hours. Now silent, and so many dead." While they retain the original Tennysonian sweetness of phrase, the poems in this book are fuller of interest, deeper of tone, chaster of expression than those of his youth. Tiresias is another piece of classic sculp- ture for the gallery in which Lucretius, Ulysses, and Tithonus had already place. Baliti and Balan, an un- expected addition to the Idylls, was written as an in- troduction to Merlin and Vivien. The Dead Prophet is a characteristic, indignant, passionate remonstrance against "the scandal and the cry" which in these latter days are wont to follow upon the biographer's revelations of the private life of public men. Here, there is little doubt, by the Dead Prophet is meant A TENNYSON PRIMER. II9 Tennyson's old friend, Carlyle ; and the profanation of his name by curious, scandal-loving readers, no less than the opportunity given them by the biographer, is the subject of the poet's savagest scorn and invec- tive. To me The Ancient Sage is the poem of by far the greatest interest in this volume, for can we not say that we have here the authentic, outspoken expression of the poet's creed, the first and last word in his con- fession of faith ? I have already spoken of that creed as the creed of the higher emotions. I may say of the faith in his own words, that it is " a faith beyond the forms of faith." The spiritual energies of his nature flowed into no mould of traditional doctrine, but they were the inspiration of his solemn visions and pro- phetic hopes. In the Two Voices, the poem of his youth which most closely corresponds to this of his age, the same piroblems are presented, but presented in a clever, logical texture, whose threads are finely drawn, but whose conclusions leave us cold. In the later poem, more vigorous and more dramatic in con- ception, from out a life's experience, from out a poet's heart of fire springs the living word of an intense and secure conviction. If the future hold for men an in- crease of knowledge which may warrant an increase of hope, then, indeed, " they will look back on Tenny- son as no belated dreamer, but as a leader who, in the darkest hour of the world's thought, would not despair of the destiny of man. They will look back on him as Romans looked back on that unshaken Roman who purchased at its full price the field of Cannae, on which at that hour the victorious Hannibal lay en- camped with his Carthaginian host."* * F. W. H. Myers, Tennyson as Prophet. I20 A TENNYSON PRIMER, The results of Tennyson's studies in the drama may- be seen in his heightened power in dealing with such situations as those of The Wreck, The Flight, and that most tragic of any in Tennyson's poetry, or, indeed, possible, in Despair. The lines To Virgil are the ex- pression of a life-long affection for a poet with whom, perhaps, Tennyson had more in common than any other, while the lines entitled Frater Ave atque Vale convey to English readers something of the beauty and pathos with which Catullus clothes the emotion of a wistful regret. The Charge of the Heavy Brigade falls short of the earlier battle-piece, and is less stir- ring than the account from which it is taken ; but in Hands all Round, originally published in 1852, the patriotic ardour of England's most patriotic poet is bravely and nobly sung. The remaining poems pub- lished in this volume are the epitaphs on Gordon, Caxton, and Lord Stratford de Redclyffe, Freedom, To the Duke of Argyll, Helen s Tower (written at the request of his friend, Lord Dufferin), To H. R. H. Princess Beatrice, Early Spring, To-Morrow (an Irish tale in dialect). The Spinster s Sweet Arts, and the lines (subsequently) entitled Poets and their Bibliographies. In the last-mentioned verses Tennyson glances at the poetic methods of Virgil and of Horace, methods similar to his own in the ceaseless labour of the file, and resents, with some impatience, the attention of the critics. Doubtless that impatience was in no slight degree due to the parallelisms adduced by them from other writers to many of Tennyson's own thoughts and phrases, and to the implied suggestion that his assimilative powers were conspicuously greater than his inventive. Tennyson was indisputably a great borrower, but he borrowed as only genius bor- A TENNYSON PRIMER. 121 rows, and had he not repudiated with somewhat un- necessary heat and protestation the charge of pla- giarism, the critic might not have found so keen a deHght in pressing home the charge. The greater part of the 1886 volume was occupied by the text of the drama (partly prose), The Promise of May, and, with the exception of the poem which gave its name to the book, there was little of in- terest among the new verses. The Fleet and The Ode on the Opejilng of the Indian Locksiey and Colonial Exhibition may be passed with- ^^^^' ^^^*y out comment. The \zX.&r Locksiey Hall is in ^ ,„„„ ' ■^ etc. 1886. part a philippic against the moral degrada- Demeter and tion, the moral infirmities of the age, a other Poems. subject to which the poet returned, but 1889. with a larger motif, in Vast?iess, published in Demeter and Other Poems in 1889. The seriousness of their outlook upon life, the intensity of their feeling, the sincerity and depth of these poems harmonises with the fuller music, the less daintily wrought manner of Tennyson's later and stronger style. The impeachment, passionate though it be, in the later Locksiey Hall, of the littleness of man, is full of stern justice — " However we brave it out, we men are a little breed." {3faud.) In Vastness the poet makes the pathetic comparison between the best and the worst in man, between his aspirations and his achievements, between the narrow, circumscribed boundaries of his little life and the in- finite ocean that stretches away on all sides of his island-spot of earth. Vain, paltry, and meaningless, the history of the human race dwarfed in the immen- 122 A TENNYSON PRIMER. sities of boundless times and spaces becomes no more than " a trouble of ants in the light of a million million of suns." Here as elsewhere in Tennyson's poetry the only refuge from permanent intellectual confusion is found in the conviction that the soul and God stand sure, that ' the dead are not dead, but alive." If the human interest in the youthful poems of Tennyson was slight, the later are almost overcharged with emotion. Colour and melod}' and fragrance were exchanged for anxious questionings upon the deepest problems of life and death, and in some poems so intensely fraught were they with human feeling, that the passionate expression was almost painfully affecting. In Oii.