alfred tennyson-第35节

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This　is　a　theory　like　another；　and　is　perhaps　attractive　to　the
young。　　The　poet　must　have　strong　passions；　or　how　can　he　sing　of
them：　　he　must　be　tossed　and　whirled　in　the　stress　of　things；　like
Shelley's　autumn　leaves；　…


〃Ghosts　from　an　enchanter　fleeing。〃


Looking　at　Burns；　Byron；　Musset；　or　even　at　Shelley's　earlier　years；
youth　sees　in　them　the　true　poets；　〃sacred　things；〃　but　also　〃light；〃
as　Plato　says；　inspired　to　break　their　wings　against　the　nature　of
existence；　and　the　flammantia　maenia　mundi。　　But　this　is　almost　a
boyish　idea；　this　idea　that　the　true　poet　is　the　slave　of　the
passions；　and　that　the　poet　who　dominates　them　has　none；　and　is　but　a
staid　domestic　animal；　an　ass　browsing　the　common；　as　somebody　has
written　about　Wordsworth。　　Certainly　Tennyson's　was　no　〃passionless
perfection。〃　　He；　like　others；　was　tempted　to　beat　with　ineffectual
wings　against　the　inscrutable　nature　of　life。　　He；　too；　had　his　dark
hour；　and　was　as　subject　to　temptation　as　they　who　yielded　to　the
stress　and　died；　or　became　unhappy　waifs；　〃young　men　with　a　splendid
past。〃　　He　must　have　known；　no　less　than　Musset；　the　attractions　of
many　a　paradis　artificiel；　with　its　bright　visions；　its　houris；　its
offers　of　oblivion　of　pain。　　〃He　had　the　look　of　one　who　had　suffered
greatly；〃　Mr　Palgrave　writes　in　his　record　of　their　first　meeting　in
1842。　　But　he；　like　Goethe；　Scott；　and　Victor　Hugo；　had　strength　as
well　as　passion　and　emotion；　he　came　unscorched　through　the　fire　that
has　burned　away　the　wings　of　so　many　other　great　poets。　　This　was　no
less　fortunate　for　the　world　than　for　himself。　　Of　his　prolonged　dark
hour　we　know　little　in　detail；　but　we　have　seen　that　from　the　first
he　resisted　the　Tempter；　Ulysses　is　his　Retro　Sathanas！

About　〃the　mechanism　of　genius〃　in　Tennyson　Mr　Palgrave　has　told　us　a
little；　more　appears　incidentally　in　his　biography。　　〃It　was　his　way
that　when　we　had　entered　on　some　scene　of　special　beauty　or　grandeur；
after　enjoying　it　together；　he　should　always　withdraw　wholly　from
sight；　and　study　the　view；　as　it　were；　in　a　little　artificial
solitude。〃

Tennyson's　poems；　Mr　Palgrave　says；　often　arose　in　a　kind　of　point　de
repere　（like　those　forms　and　landscapes　which　seem　to　spring　from　a
floating　point　of　light；　beheld　with　closed　eyes　just　before　we
sleep）。　　〃More　than　once　he　said　that　his　poems　sprang　often　from　a
'nucleus；'　some　one　word；　maybe；　or　brief　melodious　phrase；　which　had
floated　through　the　brain；　as　it　were；　unbidden。　　And　perhaps　at　once
while　walking　they　were　presently　wrought　into　a　little　song。　　But　if
he　did　not　write　it　down　at　once　the　lyric　fled　from　him
irrecoverably。〃　　He　believed　himself　thus　to　have　lost　poems　as　good
as　his　best。　　It　seems　probable　that　this　is　a　common　genesis　of
verses；　good　or　bad；　among　all　who　write。　　Like　Dickens；　and　like
most　men　of　genius　probably；　he　saw　all　the　scenes　of　his　poems　〃in
his　mind's　eye。〃　　Many　authors　do　this；　without　the　power　of　making
their　readers　share　the　vision；　but　probably　few　can　impart　the
vision　who　do　not　themselves　〃visualise〃　with　distinctness。　　We　have
seen；　in　the　cases　of　The　Holy　Grail　and　other　pieces；　that　Tennyson；
after　long　meditating　a　subject；　often　wrote　very　rapidly；　and　with
little　need　of　correction。　　He　was　born　with　〃style〃；　it　was　a　gift
of　his　genius　rather　than　the　result　of　conscious　elaboration。　　Yet
he　did　use　〃the　file；〃　of　which　much　is　now　written；　especially　for
the　purpose　of　polishing　away　the　sibilants；　so　common　in　our
language。　　In　the　nine　years　of　silence　which　followed　the　little
book　of　1833　his　poems　matured；　and　henceforth　it　is　probable　that　he
altered　his　verses　little；　if　we　except　the　modifications　in　The
Princess。　　Many　slight　verbal　touches　were　made；　or　old　readings　were
restored；　but　important　changes；　in　the　way　of　omission　or　addition；
became　rare。

Of　nature　Tennyson　was　scrupulously　observant　till　his　very　latest
days；　eagerly　noting；　not　only　〃effects；〃　as　a　painter　does；　but
their　causes；　botanical　or　geological。　　Had　man　been　scientific　from
the　beginning　he　would　probably　have　evolved　no　poetry　at　all；
material　things　would　not　have　been　endowed　by　him　with　life　and
passion；　he　would　have　told　himself　no　stories　of　the　origins　of
stars　and　flowers；　clouds　and　fire；　winds　and　rainbows。　　Modern　poets
have　resented；　like　Keats　and　Wordsworth；　the　destruction　of　the　old
prehistoric　dreams　by　the　geologist　and　by　other　scientific
characters。　　But　it　was　part　of　Tennyson's　poetic　originality　to　see
the　beautiful　things　of　nature　at　once　with　the　vision　of　early
poetic　men；　and　of　moderns　accustomed　to　the　microscope；　telescope；
spectrum　analysis；　and　so　forth。　　Thus　Tennyson　received　a　double
delight　from　the　sensible　universe；　and　it　is　a　double　delight　that
he　communicates　to　his　readers。　　His　intellect　was　thus　always
active；　even　in　apparent　repose。　　His　eyes　rested　not　from　observing；
or　his　mind　from　recording　and　comparing；　the　beautiful　familiar
phenomena　of　earth　and　sky。　　In　the　matter　of　the　study　of　books　we
have　seen　how　deeply　versed　he　was　in　certain　of　the　Greek；　Roman；
and　Italian　classics。　　Mr　Jowett　writes：　　〃He　was　what　might　be
called　a　good　scholar　in　the　university　or　public…school　sense　of　the
term；　。　。　。　yet　I　seem　to　remember　that　he　had　his　favourite
classics；　such　as　Homer；　and　Pindar；　and　Theocritus。　。　。　。　He　was
also　a　lover　of　Greek　fragments。　　But　I　am　not　sure　whether；　in　later
life；　he　ever　sat　down　to　read　consecutively　the　greatest　works　of
AEschylus　and　Sophocles；　although　he　used　occasionally　to　dip　into
them。〃　　The　Greek　dramatists；　in　fact；　seem　to　have　affected
Tennyson's　work　but　slightly；　while　he　constantly　reminds　us　of
Virgil；　Homer；　Theocritus；　and　even　Persius　and　Horace。　　Mediaeval
French；　whether　in　poetry　or　prose；　and　the　poetry　of　the　〃Pleiad〃
seems　to　have　occupied　little　of　his　attention。　　Into　the　oriental
literatures　he　dippedpretty　deeply　for　his　Akbar；　and　even　his
Locksley　Hall　owed　something　to　Sir　William　Jones's　version　of　〃the
old　Arabian　Moallakat。〃　　The　debt　appears　to　be　infinitesimal。　　He
seems　to　have　been　less　closely　familiar　with　Elizabethan　poetry　than
might　have　been　expected：　　a　number　of　his　obiter　dicta　on　all　kinds
of　literary　points　are　recorded　in　the　Life　by　Mr　Palgrave。　　〃Sir
Walter　Scott's　short　tale；　My　Aunt　Margaret's　Mirror　（how　little
known！）；　he　once　spoke　of　as　the　finest　of　all　ghost　or　magical
stories。〃　　Lord　Tennyson　adds；　〃The　Tapestried　Chamber　also　he
greatly　admired。〃　　Both　are　lost　from　modern　view　among　the　short
pieces　of　the　last　volumes　of　the　Waverley　novels。　　Of　the　poet's
interest　in　and　attitude　towards　the　more　obscure　pyschological　and
psychical　problemsto　popular　science　foolishnessenough　has　been
said；　but　the　remarks　of　Professor　Tyndall　have　not　been　cited：…


My　special　purpose　in　introducing　this　poem；　however；　was　to　call
your　attention　to　a　passage　further　on　which　greatly　interested　me。
The　poem　is；　throughout；　a　discussion　between　a　believer　in
immortality　and　one　who　is　unable　to　believe。　　The　method　pursued　is
this。　　The　Sage　reads　a　portion　of　the　scroll；　which　he　has　taken
from　the　hands　of　his　follower；　and　then　brings　his　own　arguments　to
bear　upon　that　portion；　with　a　view　to　neutralising　the　scepticism　of
the　younger　man。　　Let　me　here　remark　that　I　read　the　whole　series　of
poems　published　under　the　title　〃Tiresias；〃　full　of　admiration　for
their　freshness　and　vigour。　　Seven　years　after　I　had　first　read　them
your　father　died；　and　you；　his　son；　asked　me　to　contribute　a　chapter
to　the　book　which　you　contemplate　publishing。　　I　knew　that　I　had　some
small　store　of　references　to　my　interview　with　your　father　carefully
written　in　ancient　journals。　　On　the　receipt　of　your　request；　I
looked　up　the　account　of　my　first　visit　to　Farringford；　and　there；　to
my　profound　astonishment；　I　found　described　that　experience　of　your
father's　which；　in　the　mouth　of　the　Ancient　Sage；　was　made　the　ground
of　an　important　argument　against　materialism　and　in　favour　of
personal　immortality　eight…and…twenty　years　afterwards。　　In　no　other
poem　during　all　these　years　is；　to　my　knowledge；　this　experience　once
alluded　to。　　I　had　completely　forgotten　it；　but　here　it　was　recorded
in　black　and　white。　　If　you　turn　to　your　father's　account　of　the
wonderful　state　of　consciousness　superinduced　by　thinking　of　his　own
name；　and　compare　it　with　the　argument　of　the　Ancient　Sage；　you　will
see　that　they　refer　to　one　and　the　same　phenomenon。


　　　And　more；　my　son！　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　mineand　yet　no　shade　of　doubt；
But　utter　clearness；　and　thro'　loss　of　Self
The　gain　of　such　large　life　as　match'd　with　ours
Were　Sun　to　sparkunshadowable　in　words；
Themselves　but　shadows　of　a　shadow…world。


Any　words　about　Tennyson　as　a　politician　are　apt　to　excite　the
sleepless　prejudice　which　haunts　the　political　field。　　He　probably；
if　forced　to　〃put　a　name　to　i