TENNYSON POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST STUDIES OF THE LIFE, WORK, AND TEACHING OF THE POET LAUREATE BY J. CUMING WALTERS AUTHOR OF "IN TENNYSON LAND" WITH PORTRAIT ON STEEL BY ARMYTAGE After a Photograph by Mrs Cameron LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO., Ltd. 1S93 \M s?r/<7$ PREFACE. LEST misunderstanding should arise, it is perhaps as well that I should explain at the outset that I have not at- tempted to supply a biography of the late Lord Tennyson. I have given prominence to his literary career, and prefer- ence to those facts which illustrated the literary side of his character. Believing, as I do, in the far-reaching and permanent effects of early environment, I have recounted with some detail the events of Tennyson's youth ; but in succeeding chapters I have only casually caught up the main threads of his personal history. Each chapter is a separate and complete study of some phase of Tennyson's work, and I have particularly endea- voured to deal adequately with his religion, philosophy, and politics. Some doubtful points I hope to have set at rest by undertaking original investigations and by careful reference to standard authorities. The criticisms of Tenny- son's contemporaries, especially those of his youth, are quoted at some length because of their interest and value. I have not, however, deemed it necessary in a work of this kind to repeat for the thousandth time the " small talk " of which great men are so often the victims ; and I must ask pardon in advance of those readers who do not find in these pages a full and true account of Tennyson's sayings and doings in private life. Nearly every poem he pub- lished is referred to, and every important public act of his life is chronicled, while I have not hesitated in some half 5 1 118 PREFACE. dozen cases to repeat a story which illustrates his methods and his character. By giving as many specimens of Tennyson's poetry as would be allowable I have hoped to re-kindle old enthusiasms and arouse new admirers. But those who desire to read about the tobacco he smoked, the hats he wore, and the beer or wine he drank at dinner,' must turn to those volumes where such unconsidered trifles are held to be worthy of chronicling. I have excluded parodies also-even the clever ones of Mr Swinburne, Sir Theodore Martin, and the late C. S. Calverley ; for I agree with Sir Arthur Helps, that he who makes a parody lacks reverence. And it is in love and reverence that these pages have been prepared, and whatever their demerits, the pleasure of writing them remains. August 1893. CONTENTS. PREFACE . . rAGE v CHAPTER I. EARLY DAYS : THE " POEMS BY TWO BROTHERS " . r CHAPTER II. AT CAMBRIDGE : " TIMBUCTOO " CHAPTER III. A LYRICAL PRELUDE . / CHAPTER VI. y>*'lN MEMORIAM": TENNYSON'S RELIGION CHAPTER VII. " MAUD " : TENNYSON ON WAR AND PEACE CHAPTER VIII. " ENOCH ARDEN " . CHAPTER IX. "the idylls of the king" iS 31 CHAPTER IV. A " LOFTIER STRAIN " : " THE PRINCESS " ... 56 CHAPTER V. POET LAUREATE : PATRIOTISM AND POLITICS . . 74 97 135 iSi CHAPTER X. TENNYSON AS A DRAMATIST . . . . .166 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XL LATER BALLADS AND POEMS ..... 198 CHAPTER XII. SWAN -SONGS ... ... 229 CHAPTER XIII. TENNYSON AS A STUDENT ..... 243 CHAPTER XIV. TENNYSON'S HUMOUR ...... 269 CHAPTER XV. LITERARY CHARACTERISTICS ..... 278 CHAPTER XVI. LABOR LIMjE : SUPPRESSED AND REVISED POEMS . . 296 CHAPTER XVII. WAS TENNYSON AN ORIGINAL POET? . . . 320 CHAPTER XVIII. A NOTE ON TENNYSONIAN VOLUMES AND MSS. . . 34 1 Appendix A . Appendix B Tennysonian Chronology Index 349 3So 354 363 TENNYSON POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. CHAPTER I. EARLY DAYS : " POEMS BY TWO BROTHERS." " What vague world-whisper, mystic pain or joy, Thrb' these three words would haunt him when a boy . . Far-far-away ? ' ' ,\ whisper from his dawn of life ? a breath From some fair dawn beyond the doors of death Far-far-away ? "Far, far, how far? from o'er the gates of Birth, ^ The faint horizons, all the bounds of earth, X . Far-far-away?" • ■ * » — Far- Far- Away. • • » THE poet of jfere was a " maker," a " doer " ; not a seer of visions or a dreamer of dreams ; not the idle singer of an empty day. He was a leader of men, standing out pre- eminent as prophet and sage — a beacon in times of dark- ness, casting a living light along the path of duty. Such a man is, in many cases, the sole or central figure in a dark or shadowy pUtur#looming through the past. His influence does not die : it is transmitted from bard to bard, each of whom catches the last notes of melody only to begin anew and/in deeper tones the long-continued theme. We can hear these hero-minstijels always above the rush and roar of battle, the tossing and tumult of years, the changes and chances of time. When man groaned under tyranny, the 2 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST strains of these sweet singers soothed the madness of des- pondency, and inspired the combat for redress. When the rights of a people were menaced, from their midst would rise the bard to give a tongue to their wrongs and a voice to their desires. He roused up heroes whom the times demanded and the wretched sought, and often in the hour of peril would himself seize axe or sword, and, putting him- self at the head of hosts he had thrilled, would rush forth " to strive a happy strife." As soldier and as guide the man's double nature was asserted. Whilst, as he denounced oppression, his " words did gather thunder as they ran," he could attune his lyre to softer strains and higher themes, teaching of hope and patience in the hour of trial, and honour in the time of adversity. The poet was the ex- ponent of national feeling. Legislation is the product of a high civilisation ; and in a rude and growing state, when government is unsettled and authority vested in a few, the wants and aspirations of the multitude can only be revealed in some huge outburst of long-pent feeling. What wonder that the poet became " the people's voice " ? Song is often but history, accurately recording or reflecting predominat- ing sentiments and popular movements. The poet's mission is undeniable, and great is he who realises and fulfils it. He may cull, preserve, and hallow the beauty and sublimity of the past ; treasure olden forms and ancient saws ; safeguard the laws which led to good and progress ; prepare the way for future excellence. Conservative and pioneer, watcher and adviser, ever to the fore, yet revering the past, he is the supreme counsellor, sympathiser, guide — Uower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love. It is the poet who, with the " viewless arrows of his thought," has Bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth, To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth. EARLY DAYS. Never had poet loftier conception of his duty, never did poet live up to a higher ideal, than Alfred, Lord Tennyson, the last and greatest of England's Laureates. With an intui- tive perception of his destiny he chose and lived his poet-life, never swerving from his course, never diverting his glance from the goal, far-off, towards which he journeyed. He was poet all in all, from his earliest youth unto that dark hour when, with an open volume of Shakespeare before him, he passed into the silent land. As his work had been con- ceived, so had it been wrought. His belief in the poet's consecration was indisputable ; the end and purpose he was designed to serve were fully recognised. He compared the poet's mind first to a crystal river, "bright as light, and clear as wind," and then to " holy ground," where Leaps a fountain Like sheet lightning, Ever brightening With a low, melodious thunder ; It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven above, And it sings a song of undying love. Alfred Tennyson was born on the sixth day of August 1809, a year which is also memorable for giving birth to Mendelssohn and Chopin, masters in the world of music ; Darwin, who has left an enduring mark upon the annals of science ; Gladstone, scholar and statesman ; Abraham Lincoln, the American president ; Elizabeth Barrett Brown- ing, unrivalled as poetess ; Edgar Poe, the great strange genius ; Dr Oliver Wendell Holmes, who stands at the head of living American poets, and takes rank with the greatest. Among others born in 1809 were Mary Cowden Clarke, John Stuart Blackie, Charles Lever,, and Lord Houghton. Such constellations of genius are not without parallel ; in fact, nature seems to love to surprise the world with sudden prodigality and abundance of good gifts. The annus mirabilis 1809 is almost comparable with that time 4 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. of splendour when Shakespeare was the brightest star in a wondrous galaxy ; and the Victorian era will most fitly bear comparison with the lustre of the period associated with the royal sway of Elizabeth. But none could have foreseen that the infant child of a Lincolnshire rector living in a remote hamlet, was destined to contribute so bounti- fully to the glory of his age. Somersby, the birth-place, was at that time a sequestered nook, nestling among the wolds, and containing a population of about one hundred. There in the white rectory-house opposite an old square-towered church lived Dr George Clayton Tennyson, a scion of the house of D'Eyncourt, and his wife, a daughter of the Rev. Stephen Fytche, of Louth. Their first-born son died, but two others, Frederick and Charles, had already been born, and the fourth was baptised and named Alfred three days after his birth. Emerson, in his essay on Plato, tells us that great geniuses have the shortest biographies ; and in his essay on Shakespeare he adds that " it is the essence of poetry to spring, like the rainbow daughter of Wonder, from the invisible, to abolish the past, and refuse all history." Whether the days of Alfred Tennyson were deficient in event, or whether his isolation from the world was such that no real insight into what constituted his life as a man and a poet could be obtained, is not now capable of determina- tion. Suffice it that chroniclers have at most times had to depend upon current gossip and occasional personal revela- tions. Few indeed are the facts made known by the poet himself, and the most diligent gleaner will find the harvest disappointing.. Sir Henry Taylor records in his autobio- graphy that in the course of conversation the Poet Laureate told him that he " believed every crime and every vice in the world were connected with the passion for autographs and anecdotes and records ; that the desiring anecdotes and acquaintance with the lives of great men was treating them like pigs to be ripped open for the public ; that he knew he himself should be ripped open like a pig ; that EARL Y DA VS. 5 he thanked God Almighty with his whole heart and soul that he knew nothing, and that the world knew nothing, of Shakespeare but his writings : and that he thanked God Almighty that he knew nothing of Jane Austen ; and that there were no letters preserved either of Shakespeare's or of Jane Austen's that they had not ripped open like pigs." The same extraordinary feeling made itself mani- fest in more than one of the Laureate's poems, especially in his lines of congratulation to a friend who had " miss'd the irreverent doom Of those that wear the Poet's crown." For now the Poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry : " Proclaim the faults he would not show : Break lock and seal : betray the trust : Keep nothing sacred : 'tis but just The many-headed beast should know." Ah shameless ! for he did but sing A song that pleased us from its worth ; No public life was his on earth, No blazon'd statesman he, nor king. The] bitterness and the morbidness of the stinging lines are but too apparent ; but though the poet's injunction may be regarded as too severe, in these pages at least we will not " tear his heart before the crowd.'y/' Alfred Tennyson was happy and fortunate in his parents and surroundings. Of his father and mother nothing but good is known. The "owd Doctor," as he was not irreverently called in the locality, was a learned unworldly man of whom we probably get a portrait in The. Village Wife. He was " hallus aloan wi' 'is boooks," and if he had a fault, it was that he " niver loookt ower a bill, nor 'e niver not seed to owt." We are told that he was "some- thing of a poet, painter, architect, musician, linguist, and ■ 6 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST mathematician." His wife was a gracious and excellent woman, with a heart of genuine kindness and tenderest sympathy — "No angel, but a dearer being, all dipt In angel instincts, breathing Paradise." "A sweet and gentle and most imaginative woman," is Mrs Ritchie's tribute. To these two were born in all eight sons and four daughters, most of whom proved in after years to possess the poetic temperament more or less developed. Little is known of the poet's youth, but the perfect harmony of the home life is attested in many ways. The strongest ties of friendship seem to have bound the brothers and sisters to one another, and the references to early days in the poems of Alfred and of Charles Tennyson are of such warmth and tenderness that the meaning cannot be mistaken. The boys had their dreams and desires, the poetic instinct striv- ing to make itself felt, and leading them to the love of all beauty. They sang and played together, they told mar- vellous tales, they loved to dwell upon themes which set their fancy flying, and in imagination their home became an enchanted castle and themselves Arthurian knights. It is recorded that Alfred's first verses were written upon a slate and shown to Charles who approved them. The "great artist Memory" pictured in colours most rich and beautiful those Lincolnshire scenes where the " prime labour of its early days " was wrought. First there was the home with its hoard of treasured recollections — the " well-beloved place Where first we gazed upon the sky," where stood the gray old grange, and where might be seen the lonely fold, the sheep-walk up the windy wold, the woods that belt the gray hill-side, and The seven elms, the poplars four That stand beside my father's door. How great an influence Lincolnshire scenery had upon the poet has already been traced. One, knowing nothing of Alfred Tennyson's origin, but knowing the charac- teristics of his county, could easily have singled him out EARL V DA VS. as a Lincolnshire man. " All great poetry," said Russell Lowell, " must smack of the soil, for it must be rooted in it, must suck life and substance from it, but it must do so with the aspiring instinct of the pine that climbs forever toward diviner air." If further evidence of the use of environment were needed, what could be more significant and appropriate than the unrestrained admission of Charles Tennyson in the beautiful sonnet which I extract from the rarest of his volumes ? — Hence with your jeerings, petulant and low, My love of home no circumstance can shake, Too ductile for the change of place to break, And far too passionate for most to know. — I and yon pollard-oak have grown together, How on yon slope the shifting sunsets lie None know so well as I, and tending hither Flows the strong current of my sympathy ; From this same flower-bed, dear to memory, I learnt how marigolds do bloom and fade, And from the grove that skirts this garden glade I had my earliest thoughts of love and spring : Ye wot not how the heart of man is made, I learn but now what change the world can bring ! Tennyson, like his two elder brothers, received the first part of his education at " Cadney's " — a schoolhouse in Holywell Glen of some repute at that time. It was opened about 1 815 by Charles Clark, who, on leaving Somersby, was succeeded by William Cadney. Locally this worthy is now remembered on account of his placing a Latin inscription — a mixture of Horace and Virgil — over the entrance to the Glen, 1 and any particular merit he may 1 William Howitt was the first to describe Tennyson's native place, and his words are worth quoting : — " The native village of Tennyson is not situated in the fens, but in a pretty pastoral district of softly sloping hills and large ash-trees. It is not based on bogs, but on a clean sandstone. There is a little glen in the neighbourhood, called by the old monkish name of Holywell. Over the gateway leading to it some by-gone squire [an error : it should be Cadney] has put up an inscription, a medley of Virgil and Horace ; and within, a stream of clear water gushes out on a sand rock, and over it stands the old schoolhouse almost lost among the trees, and of late years used as a wood- S TEAWYSOX: POET. PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. have possessed, or whatever his special qualification for his work, cannot be related. Until the Tennyson brothers were sent to Louth Grammar School their education may have been partly under the supervision of their father, though it is not unlikely that no regular or systematic course of training was entered upon. I have already disposed of the fiction that Alfred and Charles Tennyson received the major portion of their education at Louth. 1 As a matter of fact Alfred was only just eleven years old, and Charles was only thirteen when they returned to Somersby, and Cadney was entrusted with the care of them. Their sojourn at Louth had been absolutely uneventful, and they brought back with them only bitter recollections of the headmaster's severity. Cadney's duty was to teach the boys arithmetic, but a quarrel with the Doctor abruptly terminated the engage- ment. William Clark, a sharp Bag Enderby boy. only two years Alfred's senior, was then called upon to act as tutor, and having a special aptitude for mathematics, he succeeded in the task. As for Cadney, misfortune appears to have dogged his steps. He was turned out of his cottage in the Glen because the boys in his charge dis- turbed the game, such as there was ; and eventually the schoolmaster ended his days in Spilsby Union-house at Hundleby, at the age of eighty-four. William Clark, the "boy-schoolmaster," is still living at Tetford, near Somersby : and it is interesting to relate that his brother Charles was for some time employed at the Hall at Gantby, which was often regarded as the original of Dickens's " Bleak House." house, its former distinction only signified by the Scripture test on the walls, 'Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.' There ?.re also two brooks in this valley, which flow into one at the bottom of the glebe field, and by these the young poet used to wander and meditate." I have given a full description of these scenes as they present themselves in later times, and subsequently other " localizers " have done the same. Some interesting facts about Cadney's school were published in the Pall Mall Gazette of June 19, 1S90. Previously the history of that interesting place was very obscure. 1 See " In Tennyson I.and,' ? pp. 35-37. EARL Y DA VS. It can easily be understood that during the interval between their leaving Louth Grammar School and entering College, very little restraint was exercised over Dr Tennyson's sons. They were sturdy, spirited lads, and appear to have been left to their own devices. We can imagine them wandering about the Lincolnshire Uplands, taking long journeys across the wolds, exploring knoll and copse, and occasionally walking as far as the sea. Now and then they visited Boston, where a relative lived, and in the summer they spent a few days at Mablethorpe in the " lowly " white cottage, whence they could see StretchM wide and wild the waste enormous marsh, Where from the frequent bridge, Like emblems of infinity, The trenched waters run from sky to sky. All these scenes were knowledge and inspiration to the young poets, nor was it long before their thoughts found expression. It was Charles Tennyson who declared how good were all things in the poet's eyes, and who, while still a youth, felt that he and his kin were marked off from the common race. In his exquisite Book of Sonnets we read : — No trace is left upon the vulgar mind By shapes which form upon the poet's thought In instant symmetry : all eyes are blind Save his, for ends of lowlier vision wrought ; Think'st thou, if Nature wore to every gaze Her noble beauty and commanding power Could harsh and ugly doubt withstand the blaze Or front her Sinai Presence for an hour ? The seal of Truth is Beauty — When the age Sees not the token, can the mission move ? The brow is veil'd that should attach the tie And lend the magic to the voice of Love : What wonder then that doubt is ever nigh Urging such spirits on to mock and to deny ? The love of Lincolnshire was deeply rooted in the hearts of these poets, and in truth there is no wonder that it io TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST should be. For Somersby is an enchanted spot, bright, luxurious, and beautiful. Wooded hills rise before it and lie behind it ; a merry brook gleams in the glen, and " swerves to left and right through meadowy curves," as it draws Into [its] narrow earthen urn, In every elbow and turn, The filter' d tribute of the rough woodland. All the air is melodious with the songs of birds— the rapturous lark, the trilling linnet, the joyous thrush, and the wrangling daw; and the long lonely lanes, like avenues, are cool and shady, and odorous with many flowers. How all these scenes and sounds influenced the mind of Alfred Tennyson, and suggested to him story and song has already been told. "What oftenest he viewed He viewed with the first glory," as every poet has done ; and like a necromancer he has ever caused to pass before our eyes the lovely tints and golden hues of a glorious vanished past. It was during this somewhat unsettled and aimless period that Alfred and Charles Tennyson composed those poems which were afterwards to be published as the work of " Two Brothers." 1 There may be some truth in the curious story related to me that publication was decided upon in order that a little money might be obtained to enable the boys to carry out a long-cherished project of visiting the Lin- colnshire churches. Suffice it that a selection of the com- positions was made and taken to Jackson of Louth, who sometimes risked the printing of books. The Tennysons would be acquainted with Mr Jackson, or would know him well by repute, on account of their occasional visits to Louth, and they could scarcely fail to remark his superior establishment in the centre of the town. Mrs Tennyson and her sons had resided for some time in Harvey's Alley, now known as Westgate Place, the little domicile being situated close to the church in which the Rev. Stephen 1 Frederick Tennyson was responsible for one poem, The Oak of the North. EARL V DA VS. Fytche preached. Alfred and Charles Tennyson found Mr Jackson kind-hearted and sympathetic. Not only did he arrange to bring out the poems in book form, but he offered them £10 for the copyright. To this the boys agreed, but, with the confidence of youth, afterwards informed the pub- lisher that £10 was "none too high a price," whereupon that excellent person considerately doubled it. Twenty- pounds was the sum actually received by the two lads for their poems. Already, therefore, they had proved the false- ness of that disastrous prophecy of their uncle, who, on giving Alfred a half-sovereign for some verses, declared that that was the last money he would ever receive for a like reason. The original manuscript of this interesting work was sold for £480 last December (1892). The Poems by Two Brothers made their appearance in a small drab volume, priced at seven and sixpence, in 1827. The " copy " had been put into the printer's hands early in the year, so that Alfred was only seventeen when the last of his contributions to the pages was made. It was originally intended that the two brothers' initials, " C. T." and " A. T.," should appear upon the title-page ; but while the work was passing through the press the authors changed their minds, and told Mr Jackson that this was no part of the agree- ment, and would " not assist the sale of the book any more than if there was no signature at all." Thus it happened that when the book appeared there was no indication of who the two intrepid poets were. " Hsec nos novimus esse nihil " was the motto modestly chosen by the brothers for their first work ; and their "Advertisement" was written in the same vein. "The following poems," the public were informed, " were written from the ages of fifteen to eighteen, not conjointly, but individually, which may account for their difference of style and matter. To light upon any novel combination of images, or to open any vein of sparkling thought un- touched before, were no easy task; indeed, the remark itself is as old as the truth is clear ; and, no doubt, if sub- 12 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. mitted to the microscopic eye of periodical criticism, a long list of inaccuracies and imitations would result from the investigation. But so it is. We have passed the Rubicon, and we leave the rest to fate, though its edict may create a fruitless regret that we ever emerged from ' the shade,' and courted notoriety." Then follow some forty introductory lines of no great merit as a whole, though with here and there a striking line or a flashing image. We are told that When the mind reflects its image true — Sees its own aim — expression must ensue ; If all but language is supplied before, She quickly follows, and the task is o'er. Then, with a recollection of November the Fifth festivities, the youthful poet illustrates his meaning as follows : Thus when the hand of pyrotechnic skill Has stored the spokes of the fantastic wheel, Apply the flame — it spreads as is design'd, And glides and lightens o'er the track defined. A rhapsody on poetic pleasures is better. I know no joy so well deserves the name, None that more justly may that title claim, Than that of which the poet is possess'd When warm imagination fires his breast, And countless images like claimants throng, Prompting the ardent ecstasy of song. Even at this early period we find that the boys, instead of dashing off their verses in a frenzy, were accustomed to pace the study " in a dreaming mood," and form " with much toil the lab'ring lines," a confession which does them great credit. Such are the sweets of song — and in this age, Perchance too many in its lists engage ; And they who now would fain awake the lyre, May swell this supernumerary choir : But ye, who deign to read, forget t' apply The searching microscope of scrutiny : EARLY DAYS. 13 Few from too near inspection fail to lose, Distance on all a mellowing haze bestows ; And who is not indebted to that aid Which throws his failures into welcome shade ? I judge this Introduction to be the work of Charles Tennyson, being more in conformity with his style. It is true that the line, " Distance on all a mellowing haze bestows," finds its echo in In Memortam, but Campbell had already given currency to the idea in the well-known " Distance lends enchantment to the view." Of the hun- dred and two poems which follow it is difficult to say much either in praise or blame. They are not commonplace, stilted, or ill-conceived ; but, at the same time, they reach no great height and excite little real emotion. Above all, they never seem to come direct from the heart. Whatever power they possess, and whatever grace they display, are purely of the intellectual kind, and the cold, carefully- measured lines are strangely unlike most boyish outbursts into verse. How curious it is to hear these lads between fifteen and eighteen gravely discoursing on philosophy, and from the depths of their experience teaching mankind the severe duties of life. It is scarcely natural to be tutored by youth and told that " life is but a scene of fallacy and woe," that " mortal man " should not " complain of death," and that " never from a wither'd heart The consciousness of ill shall part." The subjects of the poems are always sombre. Death, sorrow, pain, exile, rage, remorse, and despair are the most constant of themes. We are told by these artless juveniles that ! T is a fearful thing to glance Back on the gloom of misspent years ; and at another time one of them, as if that gloom could never be dissipated, devotes a whole poem to explaining how he " wanders in darkness and sorrow." He asks — In this waste of existence, for solace On whom shall my lone spirit call ? Shall I fly to the friends of my bosom ? tvt.. r^~j t t l u.._: 1 <.u~— -11 1 14 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. The poet then courts a terrible doom. Like the voice of the owl in the hall, Where the song and the banquet have ceased, Where the green weeds have mantled the hearth, Whence arose the proud flame of the feast ; So I cry to the storm, whose dark wing Scatters on me the wild driving sleet — " Let the war of the wind be around me, The fall of the leaves at my feet ! " Thomson, Scott, and Byron, had up to this time been the " masters " whom the two poets reverently regarded, and it is not surprising to find that the influence of all the three can be detected in their juvenile works. Alfred Tennyson was but fifteen years of age when he heard of Byron's death at Missolonghi. The effect of the news upon the susceptible mind of the lad was such that he " thought the whole world was at an end." " I thought everything was over and finished for everyone — that nothing else mattered," he related long afterwards. " I remember I walked out alone, and carved, ' Byron is dead ' into the sandstone." In view of this we may conclude that it was Alfred who wrote the lines On the Death of Lord Byron in the metre afterwards employed in The Two Voices. The hero and the bard is gone ! His bright career on earth is done, Where with a comet's blaze he shone. He died where vengeance arms the brave, Where buried freedom quits her grave, In regions of the eastern wave. Yet not before his ardent lay Had bid them chase all fear away, And taught their trumps a bolder bray. Thro' him their ancient valor glows, And, stung by thraldom's scathing woes, They rise again, as once they rose. As once in conscious glory bold, To war their sounding cars they roll'd, Uncrush'd, untrampled, uncontroll'd ! EARLY DAYS. Each drop that gushes from their side, Will serve to swell the crimson tide, That soon shall whelm the Moslem's pride ! At last upon their lords they turn, At last the shame of bondage learn, At last they feel their fetters burn ! Oh ! how the heart expands to see An injured people all agree To burst those fetters and be free ! Each far-famed mount that cleaves the skies, Each plain where buried glory lies, All, all exclaim — " Awake ! arise ! " Who would not feel their wrongs ? and who Departed freedom would not rue, With all her trophies in his view ? To see imperial Athens reign, And, lowering o'er the vassal main, Rise in embattled strength again — To see rough Sparta train once more Her infant's ears for battle's roar, Stern, dreadful, chainless as before — Was Byron's hope — was Byron's aim : With ready heart and hand he came : But perish'd in that path of fame ! There is a poem on Greece, full of martial vigour, which no doubt was inspired by Byron's mission, while the better- known lines On a dead Enemy are in the true Byronic vein. I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel ; But when I saw thee cold in death, 1 felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brow, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven ! I cannot hate thee now ! 16 TENNYSON: POET, PHILOSOPHER, IDEALIST. Charles Tennyson's was the gentler muse ; and we must ascribe to him most of the poems of a tender melancholy and a chastened religious feeling. The pretty stanzas on Boyhood remind us of the thought pervading some of the sonnets subsequently published. Boyhood's blest hours ! when yet unfledged and callow, We prove those joys we never can retain, In riper years with fond regret we hallow, Like some sweet scene we never see again. For youth — whate'er may be its petty woes : Its trivial sorrows — disappointments — fears, As on in haste life's wintry current flows — Still claims, and still receives, its debt of tears. Yes ! when, in grim alliance, grief and time Silver our heads and rob our hearts of ease, We gaze along the deeps of care and crime To the far, fading shore of youth and peace ; Each object that we meet the more endears That rosy morn before a troubled day ; That blooming dawn — that sunrise of our years — That sweet voluptuous vision past away ! For by the welcome, tho' embittering power Of wakeful memory, we too well behold That lightsome — careless — unreturning hour, Beyond the reach of wishes or of gold. And ye, whom blighted hopes or passion's heat Have taught the pangs that care-worn hearts endure, Ye will not deem the vernal rose so sweet ! Ye will not call the driven snow so pure ! Happy boy, that for him, as he wrote these lines, there still remained the light of sunrise and the rosy hue of morn — that the sadness was only anticipated and the pleasure at that moment enjoyed ! I have quoted these poems chiefly because of the index they constitute of the state of the minds of the two youth- ful authors. The Poems by Two Brothers plainly reveal that Alfred and Charles Tennyson were conscious of their gifts, and that if they had little knowledge of the world and EARLY DAYS. 17 s ways, they at all events possessed in compensation an Dtmdance of imagination. Their poems lack humanity id, even in many cases, spontaneity. They were exer- ses, tasks, and truly " lab'ring lines," and though the