TENNYSON AND BROWNING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 9217, 3 June 1893, Page 1 (Supplement)

TENNYSON AND BROWNING.

A RETROSPECT OF VICTORIAN POETRY. [Lecture delivered before the Auckland Institute, by Professor Pond, President.] It was very soon after the members of the Institute had done me the honour of electing me its presidonb for the current year that I began to be troubled in my mind as to the subject on which I should deliver my Presidential Address. I understood that I had been elected as, by virtue of my official position in Auckland, in some measure a representative of literature, and it was evident that some phase or aspect of literature must be doalt with in the address given to inaugurate the proceedings of the Institute for the year. But now came the question, what phase or aspect? And that question I found somewhat difficult to answer. A presidential address in an Institute such as this is usually cither a retrospect or a summary of the progress of some one branch of knowle Ige in the years immediately preceding. Now for many years past the presidential chair of our Institute has boon filled by gentlemen who have, either from tho theoretical or practical point of view, represented some province of science. And it must bo obvious that in this respect the representative of science has the advantage of tho representative of literature—tho advantage of fact over opinion. in the great and glorious progress of science in this century, the most amazing discoveries jostle one another to gain recognition from us, appealing now to our sense of utility in their practical applications, now to our imagination by their sublimity. To the devoted workers of science nothing is too great or too small for their all-embracing scrutiny. Science deals equally with the infinite and the infinitesimal. The composition of fardistant suns, and tho life history of the parasite of a parasite, aro equally tho subjects of her investigation, and the results are such as cannot fail to appeal to any man who has a spark of intellect or imagination. A discourse on literature, on the other hand, deals with a subject with which all are more or less familiar, and so loses the advantage of novelty. It does not deal with concrete facts, but rather with opinions about facts, and so, as compared with the directness of science, it is apt to be somewhat vague and intangible ; it is subjective rather than objective. To use the language of science, criticism must inevitably be qualitative only, and can never aspire to be quantitative. It can detect the presence of certain elements, but not accurately weigh or measure the proportions in which they exist. [ At last it occurred to me, after I had examined and rejected many possible subjects that in the noble singer whose death at the close of last year was regarded as a national calamity by all the English-speak-ing peoples, I might find tho starting point for the retrospect which I desired. Further consideration led mo to hope that by comparing and contrasting Tennyson and Browning, I might be able, without making a mere enumeration of Victorian poets, to give a retrospective review of Victorian poetry. Tho magazines of late have been tilled, and over-filled, with what one may call Tennysoniana, anecdotal accounts of the Laureate, written some by intimate friends, others by Americans, who had for onco succeeded in iutrudiogon his privacy at Freshwater, or by Englishmen who had once seen him at a railway station. With these I have no desire to enter into competition. I shall rather aim this evening at examining Tennyson and Browning not as men, but rather as the living embodiment of certain aspects of poetry characteristic of the Victorian era, by discussing their methods, their objects, their ideas, and their views with regard to the great questions which are always present to the mini of man. 1 have said the Victorian era of poetry, and I use tho term advisedly. For the beginning of the reign of Victoria is practically coincident with tho rise of certain tendencies in poetry. It is true that those tendencies have worked themselves out before the conclusion of the reign of tho royal lady from whom the period takes its name; but, none the loss, for fifty years were they co-extensive with it. To use a paradox, poets are to a great tent at once the creation and the creators of their time, and from either point of view the term Victorian poets is not misapplied. To appreciate the characteristics of tho Victorian poets, we must go back to a preVictorian period. The eighteenth century poetry is on the whole vapid and insincere, tainted by an artificial classicism and conventionality. Nothing in English literature is more remarkable than the sudden and vigorous onslaught on this artificiality and insincerity which begins with the closing years of the 18th century. There came a return to nature and simplicity ; the romantic era dawned once more, and what classic influence was still found was of the spirit and not of tho letter. Then came the Lake School with its great leader Wordsworth, the contemplative interpreter of the poetry of nature, from whom none of her secrets were hidden; the mysticism and melody of Coleridge; Scott, with his delight in mediaeval chivalry and that heroic verse that rings like the blare of a trumpet ; the sensuous and romantic beauties of Keats ; the ethereal raptures of Shelley ; the fervid passion of Byron. By 137 this brilliant band of poets had disappeared. Byron had perished of fever in Greece ; Shelley was drowned in Italy ; Keats dead, nob certainly " killed by tho Quarterly," according to tho not yet exploded legend, but carried off by consumption. Scott had overtaxed to his death - even his magnificent powers ; Colcridgo, the wreck of his former self, had lived his last few years in an opium dream, and was already dead in 1834. Wordsworth, and Wordsworth alone, remained of a band of poets, second in English literature to the Elizabethans only ; but Wordsworth's work was done, though even then ho had not attained full recognition. The poetry of the time had died away into magazine verse which was called Byronic, and which whilo reflecting his faults and weaknesses omitted the passion and strength which had raised Byron himself to fame. The kings of verse wore dead. Was there any to succeed them ? In 1827 there had appeared a slight volume of vor.se entitled "Poems by Two Brothers," graceful and pretty in their way, if somewhat imitative. Very few of the poems contained therein aro to be found in any collection of Tennyson's poems—for ono of those brothers was Alfred Tennyson, at the age of eighteen—nor did they attract much notice. Soon in 1830 appeared another volume Poems, Chiefly Lyrical." Accustomed as wo now are to nobler and grander music from the same lyre, such poems as " The Merman" and " The Owl," "Claribel" and " Lilian" may be read by us now without any great enthusiasm. They are evidently over-elaborate, too full of effort, and not devoid of affectation—the poems of a young man gifted with an eye for richness of colour and harmony of detail, but not yet skilled to give adequate expression to that which he saw clearly enough. And yet, slight as they wore, they were different from preceding work, and dfferont nob in degree, but in kind. Whoreas the earlier poets of the century had aimed at grand general effects, here was a young poet who aimed first of all at beauty of detail only, who, recognising that poetry was truly an art, was content first to apprentice himself in order to master the technical detail of his craft, and who, as Stedman says, " wreaked himself upon expression for tho expression's sake." It is in the volume published in hi 3 twenty-fourth year that the young Tennyson seems first definitely to feel his strength, and I do not think it is altogether by accident that in that little volume the first place is given to "The Lady of Shalotfc." The Lady of Shallotb dare nob look upon life, but only upon the shadows of life re-' fleeted in her magic mirror, and now " I am half sick of shadows," said The- Lady of Shalott. She looks out upon the world as it is, and she dies in consequence. So with the young poet; he has hitherto dallied merely with the shadows of life, with dreams and fancies,* which, for all their richness and beauty, were still nothing bub dreams. He now looks forth upon the world as it is, and in doing so finds nob a curse, but a blessing. I

And if in the same volume ho describes the land of the Lotos-eaters, where "slumber is more sweet than toil," it is only resolutely to turn his face from it. It is nob my intention to trace Tennyson's poetic career by the milestones of his successive volumes. The "English Idylls," "The Princess,' "In Momoriam," to my mind his most characteristic work, led up to his acceptance of the laureateship in 1850. It was then that, at the death of Wordsworth, ho received, to uso his own words, the "laurel, greener from the brows of him that uttered nothing base." Then after " Maud" comes tho commencement of " Tho Idylls of tho King," that wonderful series of pictures, which has been in hand in ono way or another more than forty years, which began with tho end, was continued with the beginning, and finished with the middle. They aro like a series of stained glass windows in some great cathedral, whose design the artist had in mind from tho first. But in his execution ho follows no order : he inserts one here and another there, and the people, while admiring the individual windows, are puzzled as to tho general design. It is only when transpositions have been made, and the last two or three windows added in their proper places, that it is seen that they aro not only beautiful individually, but'now form an intelligible and connected series, noble in design, admirable in execution. The rest of his work may be summed up as efforts, to my mind unavailing, on tho part of Tennyson to prove that he possessed that dramatic power which his critics denied him. Tho contrast which may bo drawn between Browning and Tennyson on almost every point begins almost with their birth. Born as they were within three years of each other, the elder, Tennyson, was born and brought, up at a quiet Lincolnshire parsonage. Browning, on the other hand, first saw tho light in what was at that time a rural suburb of London, Camberwell, tolerably tranquil itself, but only some four miles distant from "streaming London's central roar." As I have said, the' first work really characteristic of Tennyson appeared in his 24th year. When Browning was of the same age there appeared his " Paracelsus," and this, his first work, is as entirely characteristic of him as anything that lie has written at any time since. For sorao timo his work was cast in a dramatic mould. Tho somewhat commonplace "Strafford," and the decidedly not commonplace, but chaotic and incomprehensible "Sordello," were followed by a series of loss pretentious dramatic works, many of which aro not without their charm ; in fact, "Pippa Passes" and "Colombo's Birthday" ri*o to a high level of literary excellence. It was in 1845 that Browning, disappointed with the reception of his dramas, bade farewell, for the time being, to the direct dramatic method. To that method he has never returned. I said to the direct dramatic method, for in most of his later work the point of view is that of tho dramatist—dealing, however, not with groups but with single figures. Fifty of these portraitures are contained in tl*e "Men and Women "Dramatis Persona*," forms an addition—in number considerable, but nob great in value. It is by no means worth while to enumerate Browning's work after 1860. lb con- j tains much that is worthless, much that is singularly great, but nothing now in kind : from tho beginning Browning is Browning, the most original and tho most unequal of the poets of our century. From this most inadequate sketch of the rise of tho two leaders of tho Victorian schools I now pass to that comparison and contrast of their art, their aims, their opinions, and their thought, from which I hope to bring into prominenco those features of Victorian poetry which seem to mi most characteristic. More than a sketch I cannot attempt, but 1 hope that tho broad outlines of the sketch will be sufficiently clear. Assuredly there have never been two contemporary poets whom a critic might more fairly examine by the method of contrast than Tennyson and Browning. Throughout their careers wo find the most curious points of likeness and unlikeness. Had some mighty genius, competent for the task, attempted to embody in the characters of tho two poets two opposite tendencies in art and thought, ho might have drawn a Tennyson and a Browning. Like in their unlikeness, unlike in their likeness, tho opposition in which they stand seems the work rather of art than of nature. Examine briefly tho career of each of them. Both lived long ; both chose the office and function of the poet above all others; both were poets pure and simple, neither of them writing or publishing a word of prose. And yet the contrasts are greater. Tennyson at once attained a recognition so full, a success so complete, that every successive work which did not surpass its predecessors was regarded as a failure. Browning, long without recognition, struggled to success by a series of failures. Browning began by writing dramas, but abandoned tho romantic method for portraiture. Tennyson began as a lyric and idyllic poet, bub ended as a writer of drama. And yet with neither were the dramas written good stage plays —successful, that is, upon the stag.) under ordinary conditions, without tho glamour of a great name to aid them. For many years no one would havo thought of comparing Browning with Tennyson except to the disparagement of tho former; but in the last twenty years Browning's audience —"fit, though few," at first—has grown rapidly, and if Tennyson has tho larger number on his side, Browning has the finer spirits. Tennyson is admired, Browning worshipped ; tho followers of tho ono form a school, of the other a cult. To whom posterity will assign tho superiority I do nob know ; but this I am sure will form part of tho verdict : that if Tennyson was the finer artist, Browning was tho more original thinker. I spoke of Tennyson as the finer artisb. We have now to contrast them from the point of view of art. For poetry is an art; nob of " sentimental caterwauling," as Huxley once said, but of giving expression, in metrical form, to any thought having relation in any way to man, in such a way as to enhance its beauty. I pointed out a few minutes ago how Tennyson's early work attracted attention because of its artistic beauty of expression. In exquisite finish no poet in any literature has ever surpassed him. As an artist in metre he is supremo. More than that, his supremacy was at once accepted. The insipid sentimentalities of the Byronics disappeared at once, and the minor poets at onco began to mould themselves upon Tennyson. ■ Henceforth, with such a master to show them how it should bo done, slipshod work was impossible. [To bo continued.]