the evil that he has wrought。 The silence of the veiled OEnone； as
she springs into her lover's last embrace； is perhaps more affecting
and more natural than Tennyson's
〃She lifted up a voice
Of shrill command； 'Who burns upon the pyre？'〃
The St Telemachus has the old splendour and vigour of verse； and；
though written so late in life； is worthy of the poet's prime：…
〃Eve after eve that haggard anchorite
Would haunt the desolated fane； and there
Gaze at the ruin； often mutter low
'Vicisti Galilaee'； louder again；
Spurning a shatter'd fragment of the God；
'Vicisti Galilaee！' butwhen now
Bathed in that lurid crimsonask'd 'Is earth
On fire to the West？ or is the Demon…god
Wroth at his fall？' and heard an answer 'Wake
Thou deedless dreamer； lazying out a life
Of self…suppression； not of selfless love。'
And once a flight of shadowy fighters crost
The disk； and once； he thought； a shape with wings
Came sweeping by him； and pointed to the West；
And at his ear he heard a whisper 'Rome；'
And in his heart he cried 'The call of God！'
And call'd arose； and； slowly plunging down
Thro' that disastrous glory； set his face
By waste and field and town of alien tongue；
Following a hundred sunsets； and the sphere
Of westward…wheeling stars； and every dawn
Struck from him his own shadow on to Rome。
Foot…sore； way…worn； at length he touch'd his goal；
The Christian city。〃
Akbar's Dream may be taken； more or less； to represent the poet's own
theology of a race seeking after God； if perchance they may find Him；
and the closing Hymn was a favourite with Tennyson。 He said； 〃It is
a magnificent metre〃：…
〃HYMN。
I。
Once again thou flamest heavenward； once again we see thee rise。
Every morning is thy birthday gladdening human hearts and eyes。
Every morning here we greet it； bowing lowly down before thee；
Thee the Godlike； thee the changeless in thine ever…changing skies。
II。
Shadow…maker； shadow…slayer； arrowing light from clime to clime；
Hear thy myriad laureates hail thee monarch in their woodland rhyme。
Warble bird； and open flower； and； men； below the dome of azure
Kneel adoring Him the Timeless in the flame that measures Time！〃
In this final volume the poet cast his handful of incense on the
altar of Scott； versifying the tale of Il Bizarro； which the dying
Sir Walter records in his Journal in Italy。 The Churchwarden and the
Curate is not inferior to the earlier peasant poems in its expression
of shrewdness； humour； and superstition。 A verse of Poets and
Critics may be taken as the poet's last word on the old futile
quarrel：…
〃This thing； that thing is the rage；
Helter…skelter runs the age；
Minds on this round earth of ours
Vary like the leaves and flowers；
Fashion'd after certain laws；
Sing thou low or loud or sweet；
All at all points thou canst not meet；
Some will pass and some will pause。
What is true at last will tell：
Few at first will place thee well；
Some too low would have thee shine；
Some too highno fault of thine …
Hold thine own； and work thy will！
Year will graze the heel of year；
But seldom comes the poet here；
And the Critic's rarer still。〃
Still the lines hold good …
〃Some too low would have thee shine；
Some too highno fault of thine。〃
The end was now at hand。 A sense of weakness was felt by the poet on
September 3； 1892： on the 28th his family sent for Sir Andrew Clark；
but the patient gradually faded out of life； and expired on Thursday；
October 6； at 1。35 A。M。 To the very last he had Shakespeare by him；
and his windows were open to the sun； on the last night they were
flooded by the moonlight。 The description of the final scenes must
be read in the Biography by the poet's son。 〃His patience and quiet
strength had power upon those who were nearest and dearest to him； we
felt thankful for the love and the utter peace of it all。〃 〃The life
after death；〃 Tennyson had said just before his fatal illness； 〃is
the cardinal point of Christianity。 I believe that God reveals
Himself in every individual soul； and my idea of Heaven is the
perpetual ministry of one soul to another。〃 He had lived the life of
heaven upon earth； being in all his work a minister of things
honourable； lovely； consoling； and ennobling to the souls of others；
with a ministry which cannot die。 His body sleeps next to that of
his friend and fellow…poet； Robert Browning； in front of Chaucer's
monument in the Abbey。
CHAPTER XI。LAST CHAPTER。
〃O； that Press will get hold of me now；〃 Tennyson said when he knew
that his last hour was at hand。 He had a horror of personal tattle；
as even his early poems declare …
〃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。〃
But no 〃carrion…vulture〃 has waited
〃To tear his heart before the crowd。〃
About Tennyson； doubtless； there is much anecdotage： most of the
anecdotes turn on his shyness； his really exaggerated hatred of
personal notoriety； and the odd and brusque things which he would say
when alarmed by effusive strangers。 It has not seemed worth while to
repeat more than one or two of these legends； nor have I sought
outside the Biography by his son for more than the biographer chose
to tell。 The readers who are least interested in poetry are most
interested in tattle about the poet。 It is the privilege of genius
to retain the freshness and simplicity； with some of the foibles； of
the child。 When Tennyson read his poems aloud he was apt to be moved
by them； and to express frankly his approbation where he thought it
deserved。 Only very rudimentary psychologists recognised conceit in
this freedom； and only the same set of persons mistook shyness for
arrogance。 Effusiveness of praise or curiosity in a stranger is apt
to produce bluntness of reply in a Briton。 〃Don't talk d…d nonsense；
sir；〃 said the Duke of Wellington to the gushing person who piloted
him； in his old age； across Piccadilly。 Of Tennyson Mr Palgrave
says； 〃I have known him silenced； almost frozen； before the eager
unintentional eyes of a girl of fifteen。 And under the stress of
this nervous impulse compelled to contradict his inner self
（especially when under the terror of leonisation 。 。 。 ）； he was
doubtless at times betrayed into an abrupt phrase； a cold
unsympathetic exterior； a moment's 'defect of the rose。'〃 Had he not
been sensitive in all things； he would have been less of a poet。 The
chief criticism directed against his mode of life is that he WAS
sensitive and reserved； but he could and did make himself pleasant in
the society of les pauvres d'esprit。 Curiosity alarmed him； and
drove him into his shell： strangers who met him in that mood carried
away false impressions； which developed into myths。 As the Master of
Balliol has recorded； despite his shyness 〃he was extremely
hospitable； often inviting not only his friends； but the friends of
his friends； and giving them a hearty welcome。 For underneath a
sensitive exterior he was thoroughly genial if he was understood。〃
In these points he was unlike his great contemporary； Browning； for
instance； Tennyson never （I think） was the Master's guest at Balliol；
mingling； like Browning； with the undergraduates； to whom the
Master's hospitality was freely extended。 Yet； where he was
familiar； Tennyson was a gay companion； not shunning jest or even
paradox。 〃As Dr Johnson says； every man may be judged of by his
laughter〃： but no Boswell has chronicled the laughters of Tennyson。
〃He never； or hardly ever； made puns or witticisms〃 （though one pun；
at least； endures in tradition）； 〃but always lived in an attitude of
humour。〃 Mr Jowett writes （and no description of the poet is better
than his） …
If I were to describe his outward appearance； I should say that he
was certainly unlike any one else whom I ever saw。 A glance at some
of Watts' portraits of him will give； better than any description
which can be expressed in words； a conception of his noble mien and
look。 He was a magnificent man； who stood before you in his native
refinement and strength。 The unconventionality of his manners was in
keeping with the originality of his figure。 He would sometimes say
nothing； or a word or two only； to the stranger who approached him；
out of shyness。 He would sometimes come into the drawing…room
reading a book。 At other times； especially to ladies； he was
singularly gracious and benevolent。 He would talk about the
accidents of his own life with an extraordinary freedom； as at the
moment they appeared to present themselves to his mind； the days of
his boyhood that were passed at Somersby； and the old school of
manners which he came across in his own neighbourhood： the days of
the 〃apostles〃 at Cambridge： the years which he spent in London； the
evenings enjoyed at the Cock Tavern； and elsewhere； when he saw
another side of life； not without a kindly and humorous sense of the
ridiculous in his fellow…creatures。 His repertory of stories was
perfectly inexhaustible； they were often about slight matters that
would scarcely bear repetition； but were told with such lifelike
reality； that they convulsed his hearers with laughter。 Like most
story…tellers； he often repeated his favourites； but； like children；
his audience liked hearing them again and again； and he enjoyed
telling them。 It might be said of him that he told more stories than
any one； but was by no means the regular story…teller。 In the
commonest conversation he showed himself a man of genius。
To this description may be added another by Mr F。 T。 Palgrave：…
Every one will have seen men； distinguished in some line of work；
whose conversation （to take the old figure） either 〃smelt too
strongly of the lamp；〃 or lay quite apart from their art or craft。
What； through all these years； struck me about Tennyson； was that
whilst he never deviated into poetical language as such； whether in
rhetoric or highly coloured phrase； yet throughout the substance of
his talk the same mode of thought； the same imaginative grasp of
nature； the same fineness and gentleness in his view of character；
the same