CHAPTER XI

THE VICTORIAN AGE

TIME-CHART OF THE CHIEF AUTHORS

_The thick line represents the period of important literary work._

1820 1830 1840 1850 1860 1870 1880 1890 1900

| | | | | | | | |

| | ║[215] | | | | | | ║ |

Tennyson |........|.║======================================================║ |

(1809–1892) | | | | | | | | |

| | ║[216] | | | | | ║ | |

Browning |........|.║=================================================║ | |

(1812–89) | | | | | | | | |

| | ║[217]| | | | ║ | | |

Dickens |........|..║==================================║ | | |

(1812–70) | | | | | | | | |

| | |║ ║[218]| | ║ | | | |

Thackeray |........|........|║=║=================║ | | | |

(1811–63) | | | ║ | | | | | |

| ║ | | | ║[219]| | | | ║ |

Meredith | ║..|........|........|...║===================================║....|

(1828–1909) | | | | | | | | |

| | ║[220] | | | ║ | | ║ | |

Carlyle |........|.║============================║....|........|..║ | |

(1795–1881) | | | | | | | | |

| ║[221]| | | ║ | | | | |

Macaulay |..║==============================║ | | | | |

(1800–59) | | | | | | | | |

| | | ║[222]| | | | | ║ |║

Ruskin |........|........|...║===========================================║.....|║

(1819–1900) | | | | | | | | |

THE HISTORICAL BACKGROUND

=1. An Era of Peace.= The few colonial wars that broke out during

the Victorian epoch did not seriously disturb the national life.

There was one Continental war that directly affected Britain--the

Crimean War--and one that affected her indirectly though strongly--the

Franco-German struggle; yet neither of these caused any profound

changes. In America the great civil struggle left scars that were soon

to be obliterated by the wise statesmanship of her rulers. The whole

age may be not unfairly described as one of peaceful activity. In the

earlier stages the lessening surges of the French Revolution were still

left; but by the middle of the century they had almost completely died

down, and other hopes and ideals, largely pacific, were gradually

taking their place.

=2. Material Developments.= It was an age alive with new activities.

There was a revolution in commercial enterprise, due to the great

increase of available markets, and, as a result of this, an immense

advance in the use of mechanical devices. The new commercial energy was

reflected in the Great Exhibition of 1851, which was greeted as the

inauguration of a new era of prosperity.

=3. Intellectual Developments.= There can be little doubt that

in many cases material wealth produced a hardness of temper and an

impatience of projects and ideas that brought no return in hard cash;

yet it is to the credit of this age that intellectual activities

were so numerous. There was quite a revolution in scientific thought

following upon the works of Darwin and his school, and an immense

outburst of social and political theorizing which was represented in

England by the writings of men like Herbert Spencer and John Stuart

Mill. In addition, popular education became a practical thing. This

in its turn produced a new hunger for intellectual food, and resulted

in a great increase in the productions of the Press and of other more

durable species of literature.

LITERARY FEATURES OF THE AGE

The sixty years (1830–90) commonly included under the name of the

Victorian age present many dissimilar features; yet in several respects

we can safely generalize.

=1. Its Morality.= Nearly all observers of the Victorian age are

struck by its extreme deference to the conventions. To a later age

these seem ludicrous. It was thought indecorous for a man to smoke in

public and (much later in the century) for a lady to ride a bicycle.

To a great extent the new morality was a natural revolt against the

grossness of the earlier Regency, and the influence of the Victorian

Court was all in its favor. In literature it is amply reflected.

Tennyson is the most conspicuous example in poetry, creating the

priggishly complacent Sir Galahad and King Arthur. Dickens, perhaps the

most representative of the Victorian novelists, took for his model the

old picaresque novel; but it is almost laughable to observe his anxiety

to be “moral.” This type of writing is quite blameless, but it produced

the kind of public that denounced the innocuous _Jane Eyre_ as

wicked because it dealt with the harmless affection of a girl for a

married man.

=2. The Revolt.= Many writers protested against the deadening

effects of the conventions. Carlyle and Matthew Arnold, in their

different accents, were loud in their denunciations; Thackeray never

tired of satirizing the snobbishness of the age; and Browning’s cobbly

mannerisms were an indirect challenge to the velvety diction and

the smooth self-satisfaction of the Tennysonian school. As the age

proceeded the reaction strengthened. In poetry the Pre-Raphaelites, led

by Swinburne and William Morris, proclaimed no morality but that of

the artist’s regard for his art. By the vigor of his methods Swinburne

horrified the timorous, and made himself rather ridiculous in the eyes

of sensible people. It remained for Mr. Hardy (whom we reserve for the

next chapter) to pull aside the Victorian veils and shutters and with

the large tolerance of the master to regard men’s actions with open

gaze. To the present day, sometimes wisely, often unwisely, poet and

novelist have carried on the process; and the end is not yet.

=3. Intellectual Developments.= The literary product was

inevitably affected by the new ideas in science, religion, and

politics. _The Origin of Species_ (1859) of Darwin shook to its

foundations scientific thought. We can perceive the influence of such a

work in Tennyson’s _In Memoriam_, in Matthew Arnold’s meditative

poetry, and in the works of Carlyle. In religious and ethical thought

the “Oxford Movement,” as it was called, was the most noteworthy

advance. This movement had its source among the young and eager

thinkers of the old university, and was headed by the great Newman, who

ultimately (1845) joined the Church of Rome. As a religious portent

it marked the widespread discontent with the existing beliefs of the

Church of England; as a literary influence it affected many writers

of note, including Newman himself, Froude, Maurice, Kingsley, and

Gladstone.

=4. The New Education.= The Education Acts, making a certain

measure of education compulsory, rapidly produced an enormous reading

public. The cheapening of printing and paper increased the demand for

books, so that the production was multiplied. The most popular form

of literature was the novel, and the novelists responded with a will.

Much of their work was of a high standard, so much so that it has been

asserted by competent critics that the middle years of the nineteenth

century were the richest in the whole history of the novel.

=5. International Influences.= During the nineteenth century the

interaction among American and European writers was remarkably fresh

and strong. In Britain the influence of the great German writers was

continuous, and it was championed by Carlyle and Matthew Arnold.

Subject nations, in particular the Italians, were a sympathetic theme

for prose and verse. The Brownings, Swinburne, Morris, and Meredith

were deeply absorbed in the long struggle of the followers of Garibaldi

and Cavour; and when Italian freedom was gained the rejoicings were

genuine.

=6. The Achievement of the Age.= With all its immense production,

the age produced no supreme writer. It revealed no Shakespeare, no

Shelley, nor (in the international sense) a Byron or a Scott. The

general literary level was, however, very high; and it was an age,

moreover, of spacious intellectual horizons, noble endeavor, and bright

aspirations.

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON (1809–92)

=1. His Life.= Alfred Tennyson, the son of a clergyman, was born at

his father’s living at Somersby in Lincolnshire. After some schooling

at Louth, which was not agreeable to him, he proceeded to Cambridge

(1828). At the university he was a wholly conventional person, and

the only mark he made was to win the Chancellor’s Prize for a poem

on Timbuctoo. He left Cambridge without taking a degree; but before

doing so he published a small volume of mediocre verse. During the

next twenty years he passed a tranquil existence, living chiefly with

his parents, and writing much poetry. Pleasant jaunts--to the Lake

District, to Stratford-on-Avon, and other places--varied his peaceful

life, and all the while his fame as a poet was making headway. In

1844 he lost most of his small means in an unlucky speculation, but

in the nick of time (1845) he received a Government pension. He was

appointed Poet Laureate (1850) in succession to Wordsworth, married,

and removed to Freshwater, in the Isle of Wight, which was his home for

the next twenty years. In his later years recognition and applause came

increasingly upon him, and he was regarded as the greatest poet of his

day. In 1884 he was created a baron, sat in the House of Lords, and for

a time took himself rather seriously as a politician, falling out with

Gladstone over the Irish question. He died at Aldworth, near Haslemere,

in Surrey, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

=2. His Poetry.= When he was seventeen years old Tennyson collaborated

with his elder brother Charles in _Poems by Two Brothers_ (1826).

The volume is a slight one, but in the light of his later work we

can already discern a little of the Tennysonian metrical aptitude

and descriptive power. His prize poem of _Timbuctoo_ (1829) is not

much better than the usual prize poem. His _Poems, Chiefly Lyrical_

(1830), published while he was an undergraduate, are yet immature, but

in pieces like _Isabel_ and _Madeleine_ the pictorial effect and the

sumptuous imagery of his maturer style are already conspicuous.

His volume of _Poems_ (1832) is of a different quality, and marks a

decided advance. In this book, which contains _Mariana in the South_

and _The Palace of Art_, we see the Tennysonian features approaching

perfection. _Poems_ (1833), with such notable items as _Œnone_ and

_The Lotos-Eaters_, advances still further in technique. Then in 1842

he produced two volumes of poetry that set him once and for all among

the greater poets of his day. The first volume contains revised forms

of some of the numbers published previously, the second is entirely

new. It opens with _Morte d’Arthur_, and contains _Ulysses_, _Locksley

Hall_, and several other poems that stand at the summit of his

achievement.

The later stages of his career are marked chiefly by much longer poems.

_The Princess_ (1847) is a serio-comic attempt to handle the theme

that was then known as “the new woman.” For the sake of his story

Tennyson imagines a ladies’ academy with a mutinously intellectual

princess at the head of it. For a space a tragedy seems imminent, but

in the end all is well, for the Princess is married to the blameless

hero. The poem is in blank verse, but interspersed are several

singularly beautiful lyrics. The humor is heavy, but many of the

descriptions are as rich and wonderful as any Tennyson ever attempted.

_In Memoriam_ (1850) caused a great stir when it first appeared.

It is a very long series of meditations upon the death of Arthur

Henry Hallam, Tennyson’s college friend, who died at Vienna in 1833.

Tennyson brooded over the subject for years; and upon this elegiac

theme he imposed numerous meditations on life and death, showing how

these subjects were affected by the new theories of the day. To a later

generation his ideas appear pallid enough; but at the time they marked

a great advance upon the notions of the past. The poem is adorned with

many beautiful sketches of English scenery; and the meter--now called

the _In Memoriam_ meter--which is quite rare, is deftly managed.

_Maud and Other Poems_ (1855) was received with amazement by the

public. The chief poem is called a “monodrama”; it consists of a series

of lyrics which reflect the love and hatred, the hope and despair, of

a lover who slays his mistress’s brother, and then flies broken to

France. The whole tone of the work is forced and fevered, and it ends

in a glorification of war and bloodshed. It does not add to Tennyson’s

fame.

Beginning in 1859, Tennyson issued a series of _Idylls of the

King_, which had considered and attempted a great theme that Milton

abandoned--that of King Arthur and the Round Table. Many doting

admirers saw in the _Idylls_ an allegory of the soul of man; but in

effect Tennyson drew largely upon the simple tales of Malory, stripping

them of their “bold bawdry” to please his public, and covering them

with a thick coating of his delicate and detailed ornamentation. It is

doubtful if this unnatural compound of Malory-Tennyson is quite a happy

one, but we do obtain much blank verse of noble and sustained power.

The only other poem of any length is _Enoch Arden_ (1864), which

became the most popular of all, and found its way in translation into

foreign languages. The plot is cheap enough, dealing with a seaman,

supposedly drowned, who returns and, finding his wife happily married

to another man, regretfully retires without making himself known. The

tale, as ever, is rich with Tennysonian adornment. In particular, there

is a description of the tropical island where Enoch is wrecked that is

among the highest flights of the poet:

The mountain wooded to the peak, the lawns

And winding glades high up like ways to Heaven,

The slender coco’s drooping crown of plumes,

The lightning flash of insect and of bird,

The lustre of the long convolvuluses

That coiled around the stately stems, and ran

Even to the limit of the land, the glows

And glories of the broad belt of the world,

All these he saw; but what he fain had seen

He could not see, the kindly human face,

Nor ever hear a kindly voice, but heard

The myriad shriek of wheeling ocean-fowl,

The league-long roller thundering on the reef.

His last poems contain a harsher note, as if old age had brought

disillusion and a peevish discontent with the pleasant artifices that

had graced his prime. Even the later instalments of the _Idylls of the

King_ contain jarring notes, and are often fretful and unhappy in tone.

Among the shorter poems, _Locksley Hall Sixty Years after_ (1885) and

_The Death of Œnone_ (1892) are sad echoes of the sumptuous imaginings

of the years preceding 1842.

=3. His Plays.= Tennyson’s dramas occupied his later years. He wrote

three historical plays--_Queen Mary_ (1875), _Harold_ (1877), and

_Becket_ (1884). The last, owing chiefly to the exertions of Sir Henry

Irving, the actor-manager, was quite a stage success. None, however,

ranks high as a real dramatic effort, though all show much care and

skill. _The Falcon_ (1879) is a comedy based on a story from Boccaccio;

_The Cup_ (1880) is based on a story from Plutarch, and scored a

success, also through the skill of Irving. _The Foresters_ (1892),

dealing with the familiar Robin Hood theme, was produced in America.

=4. His Poetical Characteristics.= (_a_) _His Craftsmanship._ No one

can deny the great care and skill shown in Tennyson’s work. His method

of producing poetry was slowly to evolve the lines in his mind, commit

them to paper, and to revise them till they were as near perfection

as he could make them. Consequently we have a high level of poetical

artistry. No one excels Tennyson in the deft application of sound to

sense and in the subtle and pervading employment of alliteration and

vowel-music. Such passages as this abound in his work:

Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro’ the lawn,

The moan of doves in immemorial elms,

And murmuring of innumerable bees.

_The Princess_

This is perhaps not the highest poetry, but shows only a kind of

manual, or rather aural, dexterity; yet as Tennyson employs it, it is

effective to a degree.

His excellent craftsmanship is also apparent in his handling of

English meters, in which he is a tireless experimenter. In blank verse

he is not so varied and powerful as Shakespeare, nor so majestical

as Milton, but in the skill of his workmanship and in his wealth of

diction he falls but little short of these great masters.

(_b_) _His Pictorial Quality._ In this respect Tennyson follows the

example of Keats. Nearly all of his poems, even the simplest, abound in

ornate description of natural and other scenes. His method is to seize

upon appropriate details, dress them in expressive and musical phrases,

and thus throw a glistening image before the reader’s eye:

The silk star-broider’d coverlid

Unto her limbs itself doth mould

Languidly ever; and, amid

Her full black ringlets downward rolled,

Glows forth each softly-shadowed arm

With bracelets of the diamond bright:

Her constant beauty doth inform

Stillness with love, and day with light.

_The Sleeping Beauty_

Till now the doubtful dusk reveal’d

The knolls once more where, couched at ease,

The white kine glimmered, and the trees

Laid their dark arms about the field:

And sucked from out the distant gloom

A breeze began to tremble o’er

The large leaves of the sycamore,

And fluctuate all the still perfume.

_In Memoriam_

Such passages as these reveal Tennyson at his best; but once again the

doubt arises as to whether they represent the highest poetry. They show

care of observation and a studious loveliness of epithet; but they lack

the intense insight, the ringing and romantic note, of the best efforts

of Keats.

(_c_) Tennyson’s _lyrical quality_ is somewhat uneven. The slightest

of his pieces, like _Blow, bugle, blow_, are musical and attractive;

but on the whole his nature was too self-conscious, and perhaps his

life too regular and prosperous, to provide a background for the true

lyrical intensity of emotion. Once or twice, as in the wonderful

_Break, break, break_ and _Crossing the Bar_, he touches real greatness:

Break, break, break,

On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!

And I would that my tongue could utter

The thoughts that arise in me.

O well for the fisherman’s boy,

That he shouts with his sister at play!

O well for the sailor lad,

That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on

To their haven under the hill;

But O for the touch of a vanished hand,

And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,

At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!

But the tender grace of a day that is dead

Will never come back to me.

This lyric has a brevity, unity, and simple earnestness of emotion that

make it truly great.

(_d_) The extracts already given have sufficiently revealed the

qualities of his _style_. It can be quite simple, as in _The Brook_

and _Will Waterproof’s Lyrical Monologue_; but his typical style shows

a slow and somewhat sententious progress, heavy with imagery and all

the other devices of the poetical artist. In particular, he is an

adept at coining phrases--“jewels five words long,” as he himself

aptly expressed it; and he is almost invariably happy in his choice of

epithet.

(_e_) His _reputation_ has already declined from the idolatry in which

he was held when he was alive. He himself foresaw “the clamour and the

cry” that was bound to arise after his death. To his contemporaries he

was a demigod; but younger men strongly assailed his patent literary

mannerisms, his complacent acceptance of the evils of his time, his

flattery of the great, and his somewhat arrogant assumption of the

airs of immortality. Consequently for twenty years after his death his

reputation suffered considerably. Once more reaction has set in, and

his detractors have modified their attitude. He is not a supreme poet;

and whether he will maintain the primacy among the singers of his own

generation, as he undoubtedly did during his lifetime, remains to be

seen; but, after all deductions are made, his high place in the Temple

of Fame is assured.

ROBERT BROWNING (1812–89)

=1. His Life.= Browning was born at Camberwell, his father being

connected with the Bank of England. The future poet was educated

semi-privately, and from an early age he was free to follow his

inclination toward studying unusual subjects. As a child he was

precocious, and began to write poetry at the age of twelve. Of his

predecessors Shelley in particular influenced his mind, which was

unformed and turbulent at this time with the growing power within.

After a brief course at London University, Browning for a short period

traveled in Russia (1833); then he lived in London, where he became

acquainted with some of the leaders of the literary and theatrical

worlds. In 1834 he paid his first visit to Italy, a country which was

for him a fitful kind of home. In 1845 he visited Elizabeth Barrett,

the poetess, whose works had strongly attracted him. A mutual liking

ensued, and then, after a private marriage, a sort of elopement

followed, to escape the anger of the wife’s stern parent. The remainder

of Browning’s life was occupied with journeys between England and

France and Italy, and with much poetical activity. His wife died at

Florence in 1861, leaving one son. Browning thereupon left the city

for good and returned to England, though in 1878 he went back once

more to Italy. His works, after suffering much neglect, were now being

appreciated, and in 1867 Oxford conferred upon him the degree of D.C.L.

He died in Italy, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

=2. His Poems and Plays.= His first work of any importance is

_Pauline_ (1833). The poem is a wild imitation of the more

extravagant outbursts of Shelley, whom it praises effusively. The work

is crude and feverish, and at the time it attracted little notice.

_Paracelsus_ (1835) reveals Browning’s affection for unusual

subjects. The poem, a very long one, is composed largely of monologues

of the medieval charlatan whose name forms the title. The work gave

the public its first taste of Browning’s famous “obscurity.” The style

is often harsh and rugged, but the blank verse contains many isolated

passages of great tenderness and beauty. There are in addition one or

two charming lyrics that are as limpid as well-water:

Thus the Mayne glideth

Where my love abideth.

Sleep’s no softer: it proceeds

On through lawns, on through meads,

On and on, whate’er befall,

Meandering and musical,

Though the niggard pasturage

Bears not on its shaven ledge

Aught but weeds and waving grasses

To view the river as it passes,

Save here and there a scanty patch

Of primrose too faint to catch

A weary bee.

His next effort was the play _Strafford_ (1837), which was written

at the suggestion of the actor Macready, and was fairly successful.

_Sordello_ (1840) established Browning’s reputation for obscurity. The

poem professes to tell the life-story of a Mantuan troubadour, but most

of it is occupied with long irrelevant speeches and with Browning’s

commentary thereon. _Pippa Passes_ (1841) is in form a drama. In

plot it is highly improbable, as it is based on several coincidences

that all happen in one day. The work is rather more terse than its

predecessors, and the purple patches are more numerous. Pippa’s songs,

moreover, are often of great beauty. In _Dramatic Lyrics_ (1842) there

are many examples of clear and forcible work, including his Cavalier

lyrics and such well-known pieces as _Home Thoughts from Abroad_.

Other works of this period include _The Return of the Druses_ (1843),

a play; _Dramatic Romances_ (1846), which shows the Browning obscurity

and virility at their best and worst; _Luria_ (1846), perhaps the

weakest of his tragedies, resembling _Othello_ in some respects;

_Men and Women_ (1855), consisting of dramatic monologues, some of

great power and penetration; _Dramatis Personæ_ (1864), containing

more monologues; _Balaustion’s Adventure_ (1871), a transcript from

Euripides; and the longest of all his works, _The Ring and the Book_

(1868–69), with which the period closes.

_The Ring and the Book_ is (the word is so apt as to be inevitable)

a literary “stunt.” It is the story of the murder of a young wife,

Pompilia, by her worthless husband, in the year 1698, and the same

story is told by nine different people, and continues for twelve books.

The result is a monument of masterly discursiveness.

In the later stages of his career Browning’s mannerisms are accentuated

in the dreary wildernesses of _Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau_ (1871),

_Red Cotton Night-Cap Country_ (1873), _The Inn Album_ (1875), and _La

Saisiaz_ (1878). It is difficult to understand the use of such poems,

except to give employment to the Browning Societies that were springing

up to explain them. But his better qualities are shown in _Fifine at

the Fair_ (1872), which is still too long; _Dramatic Idylls_ (1879–80);

_Jocoseria_ (1883); _Ferishtah’s Fancies_ (1884); and _Parleyings with

Certain People_ (1887). His long life’s work has a powerful close in

_Asolando_ (1889), which, along with much of the tired disillusion of

the old man, has in places the firmness and enthusiasm of his prime.

The last verses he ever wrote describe himself in the character he most

loved to adopt:

One who never turned his back but marched breast forward,

Never doubted clouds would break,

Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph,

Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better,

Sleep to wake.

No, at noonday in the bustle of man’s worktime

Greet the unseen with a cheer!

Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be,

“Strive and thrive!” cry, “Speed,--fight on, fare ever

There as here!”

=3. Features of his Work.= (_a_) _His Style._ Browning’s style

has been the subject of endless discussion, for it presents a

fascinating problem. Within itself it reveals the widest range. Its

famous “obscurity” was so pronounced that it led to the production

of “Browning dictionaries” and other apparatus to disclose the deep

meanings of the master. This feature of his work is partly due to his

fondness for recondite subjects, to his compression and also to his

diffuseness of thought and language, and to his juggling with words

and meters. It often leads to such passages as the following, which is

nothing less than jockeying with the English language:

Now, your rater and debater

Is baulked by a mere spectator

Who simply stares and listens

Tongue tied, while eye nor glistens

Nor brow grows hot and twitchy,

Nor mouth, for a combat itchy,

Quivers with some convincing

Reply--that sets him wincing?

Nay, rather, reply that furnishes

Your debater with what burnishes

The crest of him, all one triumph,

As you see him rise, hear him cry “Humph!

Convinced am I? This confutes me.

Receive the rejoinder that suits me!

Confutation of vassal for prince meet--

Wherein all the powers that convince meet,

And mash my opponent to mincemeat!”

_Pacchiarotto_

In contrast with this huddle of words, Browning can write clearly and

with perfect cohesion and directness, as may easily be seen in such

well-known poems as _How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix_,

_Time’s Revenges_, and _The Glove_. His middle style, common in his

blank verse and his lyrics, is somewhat like that of Byron in its fine

prosaic aptness:

This flower she stopped at, finger on lip,

Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim;

Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip,

Its soft meandering Spanish name:

What a name! Was it love or praise?

Speech half-asleep or song half-awake?

I must learn Spanish, one of these days,

Only for that slow sweet name’s sake.

_Garden Fancies_

(_b_) _His Descriptive Power._ In this respect Browning differs widely

from Tennyson, who slowly creates a lovely image by careful massing of

detail. Browning, however, makes one or two dashing strokes, and, by

his complete mastery of phrase, the picture is revealed:

Yon otter, sleek-wet, black, lithe as a leech;

Yon auk, one fire-eye in a ball of foam,

That floats and feeds; a certain badger brown

He hath watched hunt with that slant white-wedge eye

By moonlight; and the pie with the long tongue

That pricks deep into oakworts for a worm,

And says a plain word when she finds her prize.

_Caliban upon Setebos_

This love for the picturesque leads him into many crooked byways

of life, manners, and history, often with results that dismay his

warmest admirers. Frequently, however, the stubborn thistle of his

style blossoms into glossy purples. For example, in _The Ring and the

Book_, we often light upon a tender passage like the following, which

refreshes the whole arid page around it:

So, when the she-dove breeds, strange yearnings come

For the unknown shelter by undreamed-of shores,

And there is born a blood-pulse in her heart

To fight if needs be, though with flap of wing,

For the wool-flock or the fur-tuft, though a hawk

Contest the prize.

(_c_) _His Teaching._ Much play has been made with this side of his

writings. But, after analysis, his teaching can with fairness be summed

up in the simple exhortation to strive, hope, and fear not. A fair

proportion of his poems are inspired with the facile optimism that led

him to cry,

God’s in his heaven,

All’s right with the world,

but his sager mind let him perceive that much of the world was wrong.

He had generous enthusiasms, such as that for the cause of Italian

liberty; several strong prejudices, such as that against spiritualism;

but on the whole his is a fair reflex of the average mind of his day,

with the addition of much reading and observation and the priceless

boon of genuine poetical genius.

(_d_) _His Reputation._ Recognition was slow in coming, but like

Wordsworth he lived to see his name established high among his fellows.

He wrote too freely, and often too carelessly and perversely, and much

of his work will pass into oblivion; but the residue will be of quality

high enough to make his fame secure.

OTHER POETS

=1. Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–61)=, whose maiden name was

Elizabeth Barrett, was the daughter of a West India planter, and was

born at Durham. She began to write poems at the age of eight; her first

published work worth mentioning was _An Essay on Mind_ (1826),

which is of slight importance. When she was about thirty years old

delicate health prostrated her, and for the rest of her life she was

almost an invalid. In 1846, when she was forty, she and Robert Browning

were married, and stole off to Italy, where they made Florence their

headquarters. She was a woman of acute sensibilities, and was fervid

in the support of many good causes, one of which was the attainment

of Italian independence. On the death of Wordsworth in 1850 it was

suggested that the Laureateship should be conferred upon her, but the

project fell through. After a very happy married life she died at

Florence.

Only the chief of her numerous poetical works can be mentioned here.

After her first work noted above there was a pause of nine years; then

appeared _Prometheus Bound_ (1835). Other works are _The Seraphim_

(1838), _Sonnets from the Portuguese_ (1846), _Casa Guidi Windows_

(1851), _Aurora Leigh_ (1857), an immense poem in blank verse,

and _Last Poems_ (1861). She wrote many of her shorter pieces for

magazines, the most important contributions being _The Cry of the

Children_ (1841) for _Blackwood’s_ and _The Great God Pan_ (1860) for

the _Cornhill_. As a narrative poet Mrs. Browning is a comparative

failure, for in method she is discursive and confused, but she has

command of a sweet, clear, and often passionate style. She has many

slips of taste, and her desire for elevation sometimes leads her into

what Rossetti called “falsetto masculinity,” a kind of hysterical

bravado.

=2. Matthew Arnold (1822–88)= was a writer of many activities, but it

is chiefly as a poet that he now holds his place in literature. He

was the son of the famous headmaster of Rugby, and was educated at

Winchester, Rugby, and at Balliol College, Oxford, where he gained the

Newdigate Prize for poetry. Subsequently he became a Fellow of Oriel

College (1845). In 1851 he was appointed an inspector of schools, and

proved to be a capable official. His life was busily uneventful, and in

1886 he resigned, receiving a pension from the Government. Less than

two years afterward he died suddenly of heart disease.

His poetical works are not very bulky. _The Strayed Reveller_ (1848)

appeared under the _nom de plume_ of “A”; then followed _Empedocles

on Etna_ (1853), _Poems_ (1854), and _New Poems_ (1868). None of

these volumes is of large size, though much of the content is of a

high quality. For subject Arnold is fond of classical themes, to

which he gives a meditative and even melancholy cast common in modern

compositions. In some of the poems--as, for example, in the nobly

pessimistic _Scholar-Gipsy_--he excels in the description of typical

English scenery. In style he has much of the classical stateliness and

more formal type of beauty, but he can be graceful and charming, with

sometimes the note of real passion. His meditative poetry, like _Dover

Beach_ and _A Summer Night_, resembles that of Gray in its subdued

melancholy resignation, but all his work is careful, scholarly, and

workmanlike.

His prose works are large in bulk and wide in range. Of them all

his critical essays are probably of the highest value. _Essays in

Criticism_ (1865) contains the best of his critical work, which is

marked by wide reading and careful thought. His judgment, usually

admirably sane and measured, is sometimes distorted a little by his

views on life and politics. Arnold also wrote freely upon theological

and political themes, but these were largely topics of the day, and his

works on such subjects have no great permanent value. His best books of

this class are _Culture and Anarchy_ (1869) and _Literature and Dogma_

(1873).

=3. Edward Fitzgerald (1809–83)=, like Thomas Gray, lives in general

literature by one poem. This, after long neglect, came to be regarded

as one of the great things in English literature. He was a man of

original views and retiring habits, and spent most of his life in his

native Suffolk. In 1859 he issued the _Rubáiyát_ of the early Persian

poet Omar Khayyám. His version is a very free translation, cast into

curious four-lined stanzas, which have an extraordinary cadence, rugged

yet melodious, strong yet sweet. The feeling expressed in the verses,

with much energy and picturesque effect, is stoical resignation.

Fitzgerald also wrote a prose dialogue of much beauty called

_Euphranor_ (1851); and his surviving letters testify to his quiet and

caustic humor.

=4. Arthur Hugh Clough (1819–61)= was born at Liverpool, and educated

at Rugby, where Dr. Arnold made a deep impression upon his mind. He

proceeded to Oxford, where, like his friend Matthew Arnold, he later

became a Fellow of Oriel College. He traveled much, and then became

Warden of University Hall, London. This post he soon resigned, and

some public appointments followed. He died at Florence, after a long

pilgrimage to restore his failing health. His death was bewailed by

Arnold in his beautiful elegy _Thyrsis_.

Clough’s first long poem was _The Bothie of Tober-na-Vuolich_ (1848),

which is written in rough classical hexameters and contains some fine

descriptions of the Scottish Highlands. He wrote little else of much

value. His _Amours de Voyage_ (1849) is also in hexameters; _Dipsychus_

(1850) is a meditative poem. His poetry is charged with much of the

deep-seated unrest and despondency that mark the work of Arnold. His

lyrical gift is not great, but once at least, in the powerful _Say not

the Struggle Naught Availeth_, he soared into greatness.

=5. Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828–82)= was the eldest of the

Pre-Raphaelite school of artists and poets. He himself was both artist

and poet. He was the son of an Italian refugee, and early became an

artist. In art, as in poetry, he broke away from convention when he saw

fit. His poetical works are small in bulk, consisting of two slight

volumes, _Poems_ (1870) and _Ballads and Sonnets_ (1881).

Of the high quality of these poems there can be little question. With

a little more breadth of view, and with perhaps more of the humane

element in him, he might have found a place among the very highest.

For he had real genius, and in _The Blessed Damozel_ his gifts are

fully displayed: a gift for description of almost uncanny splendor, a

brooding and passionate introspection, often of a religious nature,

and a verbal beauty as studied and melodious as that of Tennyson--less

certain and decisive perhaps, but surpassing that of the older poet in

unearthly suggestiveness. In his ballads, like _Rose Mary_ and _Troy

Town_, the same powers are apparent, though in a lesser degree; these

have in addition a power of narrative that is only a very little short

of the greatest. An extract appears on p. 515.

=6. Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830–94)= was a younger sister of

the poet last named, and survived him by some years. Her life was

uneventful, like her brother’s, and was passed chiefly in London.

Her bent was almost entirely lyrical, and was shown in _Goblin

Market_ (1862), _The Prince’s Progress_ (1866), _A Pageant_ (1881),

and _Verses_ (1892). Another volume, called _New Poems_ (1896),

was published after her death, and contains much excellent early

work. Her poetry, perhaps less impressive than that of her brother

in its descriptive passages, has a purer lyrical note of deep and

sustained passion, with a somewhat larger command of humor, and a

gift of poetical expression as noble and comprehensive as his own.

They resemble each other in a curious still undertone of passionate

religious meditation joined to a fine simplicity of diction.

=7. William Morris (1834–96)= produced a great amount of poetry, and

was one of the most conspicuous figures in mid-Victorian literature. He

was born near London, the son of a wealthy merchant, and was educated

at Marlborough and Oxford. His wealth, freeing him from the drudgery

of a profession, permitted him to take a lively and practical interest

in the questions of his day. Upon art, education, politics, and social

problems his great energy and powerful mind led him to take very

decided views, sometimes of an original nature. Here we are concerned

only with his achievement in literature.

At an early period he was drawn into the Pre-Raphaelite movement,

for he was keenly alive to its studied beauty and rather extreme

medievalism. _The Defence of Guenevere_ (1858), written in this

manner, was received with neglect. The poems are laboriously fantastic,

but they show great beauty and a sense of restrained passion. _The

Life and Death of Jason_ (1866) is a long narrative poem on a

familiar theme, written in the heroic couplet in a manner suggestive

of Chaucer, but easy and melodious to an extent that makes the tale

almost monotonous. _The Earthly Paradise_ (1868–70) develops this

narrative method still further, and is a collection of twenty-four

tales on various subjects of classical and medieval origin. In meter

the poems vary, but the couplet is prominent. In range and vivacity

the work is extraordinary, and the framework into which the tales are

set is both ingenious and beautiful. _Poems by the Way_ (1891)

contains some fine miscellaneous pieces. A brief extract from his poems

will be found on p. 514.

Morris also busied himself with the composition of long prose tales,

produced in great quantity during the later years of his life. The

tales are written in a curious headlong, semi-rhythmical, semi-archaic

style. Much reading of it tends to give the reader mental indigestion,

but the vigor and skill of the prose are very considerable. Some of the

tales are _The House of the Wolfings_ (1889), _The Roots of the

Mountains_ (1890), _The Story of the Glittering Plain_ (1891),

and _The Sundering Flood_ (1898).

=8. Algernon Charles Swinburne (1837–1909)= had a long life and his

poetical work was in proportion to it. Of aristocratic lineage, he was

educated at Eton and Oxford. He left Oxford (1860) without taking a

degree, and for the rest of his life wrote voluminously, if not always

judiciously. He was a man of quick attachments and violent antagonisms,

and these features of his character did much to vitiate his prose

criticisms, of which he wrote a large number. In his later years, from

1879 onward, he lived with his friend Theodore Watts-Dunton at Putney

Hill, where he died.

_Atalanta in Calydon_ (1865), an attempt at an English version of an

ancient Greek tragedy, was his first considerable effort in poetic

form, and it attracted notice at once. At a bound the young poet had

attained to a style of his own: tuneful and impetuous movement, a

cunning metrical craftsmanship, and a mastery of melodious diction.

The excess of these virtues was also its bane, leading to diffuseness,

breathlessness, and incoherence. _Poems and Ballads_ (1866), a second

extraordinary book, was, owing to its choice of unconventional

subjects, criticized as being wicked. In it the Swinburnian features

already mentioned are revealed in a stronger fashion. Only a few of his

later poetical works can be mentioned here: _Songs before Sunrise_

(1871), a collection of poems chiefly in praise of Italian liberty,

some of them of great beauty, but marred by his reckless defiance of

the common view; _Erectheus_ (1876), a further and less successful

effort at Greek tragedy; and _Tristram of Lyonesse_ (1882), a narrative

of much passion and force, composed in the heroic couplet. Some of

his shorter poems were reproduced in two further series of _Poems and

Ballads_ in 1878 and 1889, but they are inferior to those of his prime.

Swinburne wrote a large number of plays, of which the most noteworthy

are _The Queen Mother and Rosamond_ (1860), with which he began his

career as an author; three plays on the subject of Mary Queen of Scots,

called _Chastelard_ (1865), _Bothwell_ (1874), and _Mary Stuart_

(1881); _Locrine_ (1887); and _The Sisters_ (1892). The gifts of

Swinburne are lyrical rather than dramatic, and his tragedies, like

those of most of his contemporaries, are only of literary importance.

His blank verse is strongly phrased, and in drama his diffuseness--that

desire for mere sound and speed which was his greatest weakness--has

little scope.

=9. Arthur Edward O’Shaughnessy (1844–81)= was born in London, of Irish

descent. In 1861 he joined the staff of the British Museum Library,

where a promising career was cut short by his early death. He wrote

little, and his books came close upon each other: _The Epic of Women_

(1870), _Lays of France_ (1872), _Music and Moonlight_ (1874), and

_Songs of a Worker_ (1881), the last appearing after his death. His

longer poems have a certain haziness and incoherence, but the shorter

pieces have a musical and attractive style and a certain half-mystical

wistfulness. His ode beginning “We are the music-makers” is often

quoted, and other poems quite as good are _A Neglected Heart_ and

_Exile_.

CHARLES DICKENS (1812–70)

=1. His Life.= Dickens was born near Portsea, where his father

was a clerk in the Navy Pay Office. Charles, the second of eight

children, was a delicate child, and much of his boyhood was spent at

home, where he read the novels of Smollett, Fielding, and Le Sage. The

works of these writers were to influence his own novels very deeply.

At an early age also he became very fond of the theater, a fondness

that remained with him all his life, and affected his novels to a

great extent. In 1823 the Dickens family removed to London, where

the father, an improvident man of the Micawber type, soon drew them

into money difficulties. The schooling of Charles, which had all

along been desultory enough, was temporarily suspended. The boy for a

time worked in a blacking factory while his father was an inmate of

the debtors’ prison of the Marshalsea. After a year or so financial

matters improved; the education of Charles was resumed; then in 1827

he entered the office of an attorney, and in time became an expert

shorthand-writer. This proficiency led (1835) to an appointment as

reporter on the _Morning Chronicle_. In this capacity he did much

traveling by stage-coach, during which a keen eye and a retentive

memory stored material to exploit a greatness yet undreamed of.

Previously, in 1833, some articles which he called _Sketches by

Boz_ had appeared in _The Monthly Magazine_. They were brightly

written, and attracted some notice.

In 1836 Messrs. Chapman and Hall, a firm of publishers, had agreed to

produce in periodical form a series of sketches by Seymour, a popular

black-and-white artist. The subjects were of a sporting and convivial

kind, and to give them more general interest some story was needed to

accompany them. Dickens was requested to supply the “book,” and thus

originated _The Pickwick Papers_ (1836). Before the issue of the

second number of the prints Seymour committed suicide, and Hablot

K. Browne, who adopted the name of “Phiz,” carried on the work. His

illustrations are still commonly adopted for Dickens’s books.

_The Pickwick Papers_ was a great success; Dickens’s fame was secure,

and the rest of his life was that of a busy and successful novelist.

He lived to enjoy a reputation that was unexampled, surpassing even

that of Scott; for the appeal of Dickens was wider and more searching

than that of the Scottish novelist. He varied his work with much

traveling--among other places to America (1842), to Italy (1844), to

Switzerland (1846), and again to America (1867). His popularity was

exploited in journalism, for he edited _The Daily News_ (1846), and

founded _Household Words_ (1849) and _All the Year Round_ (1859). In

1858 Dickens commenced his famous series of public readings. These were

actings rather than readings, for he chose some of the most violent or

affecting scenes from his novels and presented them with full-blown

histrionic effect. The readings brought him much money, but they

wore him down physically. They were also given in America, with the

greatest success. He died in his favorite house, Gad’s Hill Place, near

Rochester, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.

=2. His Novels.= _Sketches by Boz_ (1833), a series dealing with London

life in the manner of Leigh Hunt, is interesting, but trifling when

compared with _The Pickwick Papers_ (1836), its successor. The plot of

the latter book is rudimentary. In order to provide an occasion for

Seymour’s sketches Dickens hit upon the idea of a sporting club, to

be called the Pickwick Club. As the book proceeds this idea is soon

dropped, and the story becomes a kind of large and genial picaresque

novel. The incidents are loosely connected and the chronology will not

bear close inspection, but in abundance of detail of a high quality,

in vivacity of humor, in acute and accurate observation, the book is

of the first rank. It is doubtful if Dickens ever improved upon it.

Then, before _Pickwick_ was finished, _Oliver Twist_ (1837) appeared

piecemeal in _Bentley’s Miscellany_; and _Nicholas Nickleby_ (1838)

was begun before the second novel had ceased to appear. The demand for

Dickens’s novels was now enormous, and he was assiduous in catering for

his public. For his next novels he constructed a somewhat elaborate

framework, calling the work _Master Humphrey’s Clock_; but he sensibly

abandoned the notion, and the books appeared separately as _The Old

Curiosity Shop_ (1840), which was an immense success, and _Barnaby

Rudge_ (1841), a historical novel. In 1842 he sailed to America,

where his experiences bore fruit in _American Notes_ (1843) and

_Martin Chuzzlewit_ (1843). These works were not complimentary to the

Americans, and they brought him much unpopularity in the United States.

_A Christmas Carol_ (1843) and _Dombey and Son_ (1848) appeared next,

the latter being written partly at Lausanne. Then in 1849 he started

_David Copperfield_, which contains many of his personal experiences

and is often considered to be his masterpiece, though for many critics

_The Pickwick Papers_ retains its primacy.

From this point onward a certain decline is manifest. His stories

drag; his mannerisms become more apparent, and his splendid buoyancy

is less visible. _Bleak House_ (1852) and _Hard Times_ (1854) were

written for his _Household Words_; _Little Dorrit_ (1856) appeared in

monthly parts; _A Tale of Two Cities_ (1859) and _Great Expectations_

(1860) were for _All the Year Round_. After producing _Our Mutual

Friend_ (1864) he paid his second visit to America, and was received

very cordially. He returned to England, but did not live to finish _The

Mystery of Edwin Drood_, which was appearing in monthly parts when he

died.

=3. Features of his Novels.= (_a_) _Their Popularity._ At the age of

twenty-six Dickens was a popular author. This was a happy state of

affairs for him, and to his books it served as an ardent stimulus. But

there were attendant disadvantages. The demand for his novels was so

enormous that it often led to hasty and ill-considered work: to crudity

of plot, to unreality of characters, and to looseness of style. It led

also to the pernicious habit of issuing the stories in parts. This in

turn resulted in much padding and in lopsidedness of construction. The

marvelous thing is that with so strong a temptation to slop-work he

created books that were so rich and enduring.

(_b_) _His Imagination._ No English novelist excels Dickens in the

multiplicity of his characters and situations. _Pickwick Papers_,

the first of the novels, teems with characters, some of them finely

portrayed, and in mere numbers the supply is maintained to the very end

of his life. He creates for us a whole world of people. In this world

he is most at home with persons of the lower and middle ranks of life,

especially those who frequent the neighborhood of London.

(_c_) _His Humor and Pathos._ It is very likely that the reputation of

Dickens will be maintained chiefly as a humorist. His humor is broad,

humane, and creative. It gives us such real immortals as Mr. Pickwick,

Mrs. Gamp, Mr. Micawber, and Sam Weller--typical inhabitants of the

Dickensian sphere, and worthy of a place in any literary brotherhood.

Dickens’s humor is not very subtle, but it goes deep, and in expression

it is free and vivacious. His satire is apt to develop into mere

burlesque, as it does when he deals with Mr. Stiggins and Bumble. As

for his pathos, in its day it had an appeal that appears amazing to a

later generation, whom it strikes as cheap and maudlin. His devices are

often third-rate, as when they depend upon such themes as the deaths of

little children, which he describes in detail. His genius had little

tragic force. He could describe the horrible, as in the death of Bill

Sikes; he could be painfully melodramatic, as in characters like Rosa

Dartle and Madame Defarge; but he seems to have been unable to command

the simplicity of real tragic greatness.

(_d_) His _mannerisms_ are many, and they do not make for good in his

novels. It has often been pointed out that his characters are created

not “in the round,” but “in the flat.” Each represents one mood, one

turn of phrase. Uriah Heep is “’umble,” Barkis is “willin’.” In this

fashion his characters become associated with catch-phrases, like the

personages in inferior drama. Dickens’s partiality for the drama is

also seen in the staginess of his scenes and plots.

(_e_) In time his _style_ became mannered also. At its best it is not

polished nor scholarly, but it is clear, rapid, and workmanlike, the

style of the working journalist. In the early books it is sometimes

trivial with puns, Cockneyisms, and tiresome circumlocutions. This

heavy-handedness of phrase remained with him all his life. In his more

aspiring flights, in particular in his deeply pathetic passages, he

adopted a lyrical style, a kind of verse-in-prose, that is blank verse

slightly disguised. We add a passage of this last type. It can be

scanned in places like pure blank verse:

For she was dead. There, upon her little bed, she lay at rest.

The solemn stillness was no marvel now.

She was dead. No sleep so beautiful and calm, so free from trace

of pain, so fair to look upon. She seemed a creature fresh from

the hand of God, and waiting for the breath of life; not one who

had lived and suffered death.

Her couch was dressed with here and there some winter berries

and green leaves, gathered in a spot she had been used to

favour. “When I die, put near me something that has loved the

light, and had the sky above it always.” Those were her words.

_The Old Curiosity Shop_

We give also a specimen of the typical Dickensian style. The reader

should observe in it the qualities of ease, perspicuity, and humor:

The particular picture on which Sam Weller’s eyes were fixed,

as he said this, was a highly coloured representation of a

couple of human hearts skewered together with an arrow, cooking

before a cheerful fire, while a male and female cannibal in

modern attire: the gentleman being clad in a blue coat and white

trousers, and the lady in a deep red pelisse with a parasol

of the same: were approaching the meal with hungry eyes, up a

serpentine gravel path leading thereunto. A decidedly indelicate

young gentleman, in a pair of wings and nothing else, was

depicted as superintending the cooking; a representation of the

spire of the church in Langham Place, London, appeared in the

distance; and the whole formed a “valentine,” of which, as a

written inscription in the window testified, there was a large

assortment within, which the shopkeeper pledged himself to

dispose of, to his countrymen generally, at the reduced rate of

one and sixpence each.

_The Pickwick Papers_

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY (1811–63)

=1. His Life.= Thackeray was born at Calcutta, and was descended

from an ancient Yorkshire family. His father having died in 1816, the

boy was sent to England for his education; and on the voyage home

he had a glimpse of Napoleon, then a prisoner on St. Helena. His

school was the Charterhouse, and his college was Trinity College,

Cambridge, which he entered in 1829. Both at school and college he

struck his contemporaries as an idle and rather cynical youth, whose

main diversions were sketching and lampooning his friends and enemies.

For a time Thackeray had some intention of becoming an artist, and

studied art in Paris. Then the loss of his entire fortune drove him

into journalism for a living. He contributed both prose and light

verse to several periodicals, including _Punch_ and _Fraser’s

Magazine_, winning his way slowly and with much difficulty, for

his were gifts that do not gain ready recognition. It was not till

nearly the middle of the century that _Vanity Fair_ (1847) brought

him some credit, though at first the book was grudgingly received.

Thenceforward he wrote steadily and with increasing favor until his

death, which occurred with great suddenness. Before his death he had

enjoined his executors not to publish any biography, so that of all

the major Victorian writers we have of him the scantiest biographical

materials.

=2. His Novels.= For a considerable number of years Thackeray was

groping for a means of expression, and wavered between verse, prose,

and sketching. His earliest literary work consisted of light and

popular contributions to periodicals. The most considerable of these

are _The Yellowplush Papers_ (1837), contributed to _Fraser’s Magazine_

and dealing with the philosophy and experiences of Jeames, an imaginary

footman, and _The Book of Snobs_ (1846), which originally appeared in

_Punch_ as _The Snob Papers_. Snobs, who continued to be Thackeray’s

pet abhorrence, are defined by him as those “who meanly admire mean

things,” and in this early book their widespread activities are closely

pursued and harried. _The History of Samuel Titmarsh_ (1841), _The

Great Hoggarty Diamond_ (1841), and _The Fitzboodle Papers_ (1842)

appeared first in _Fraser’s Magazine_. They are deeply marked with

his biting humor and merciless observation of human weaknesses, but

they found little acceptance. _The Memoirs of Barry Lyndon_ (1842) is

a distinct advance. It is a species of picaresque novel, telling of

the adventures of a gambling rascal, an amiable scapegrace who prowls

over Europe. In range the book is wider, and the grasp of incident and

character is more sure. In _Vanity Fair_ (1847) the genius of Thackeray

reaches high-water mark. In theme it is concerned chiefly with the

fortunes of Becky Sharp, an adventuress. In dexterity of treatment, in

an imaginative power that both reveals and transforms, and in a clear

and mournful vision of the vanities of mankind the novel is among the

greatest in the language. _Pendennis_ (1848) continues the method of

_Vanity Fair_. Partly autobiographical, it portrays life as it appears

to the author. Thackeray refuses to bow to convention and precedent,

except when these conform to his ideals of literature. In this book

Thackeray openly avows his debt to Fielding, the master whom he equals

and in places excels. _Henry Esmond_ (1852) is a historical novel

of great length and complexity, showing the previous excellences of

Thackeray in almost undiminished force, as well as immense care and

forethought, a minute and accurate knowledge of the times of Queen

Anne, and an extraordinary faculty for reproducing both the style and

the atmosphere of the period. By some judges this book is considered to

be his best. His novel _The Newcomes_ (1854) is supposed to be edited

by Pendennis. In tone it is more genial than its predecessors, but it

ends tragically with the death of the aged Colonel Newcome. With _The

Virginians_ (1857) the list of the great novels is closed. This book,

a sequel to _Henry Esmond_, is a record of the experiences of two lads

called Warrington, the grandsons of Henry Esmond himself. In the story,

a pale shadow of her former self, appears Beatrix Esmond, the fickle

heroine of the earlier book.

In 1860 Thackeray was appointed first editor of _The Cornhill

Magazine_, and for this he wrote _Lovel the Widower_ (1860), _The

Adventures of Philip_ (1861), and a series of essays, charming and

witty trifles, which were reissued as _The Roundabout Papers_ (1862).

Both in size and in merit these last novels are inferior to their

predecessors. At his death he left an unfinished novel, _Denis Duval_.

Like Dickens, Thackeray had much success as a lecturer on both

sides of the Atlantic, though in his methods he did not follow his

fellow-novelist. Two courses of lectures were published as _The English

Humourists_ (1852) and _The Four Georges_ (1857). All his life he

delighted in writing burlesques, the best of which are _Rebecca and

Rowena_ (1850), a comic continuation of _Ivanhoe_, and _The Legend of

the Rhine_ (1851), a burlesque tale of medieval chivalry.

=3. His Poetry.= On the surface Thackeray’s verse appears to be

frivolous stuff, but behind the frivolity there is always sense,

often a barb of reproof, and sometimes a note of sorrow. _The Ballads

of Policeman X_ is an early work contributed in numbers to _Punch_.

Others, such as _The White Squall_ and _The Ballad of Bouillabaisse_,

have more claim to rank as poetry, for they show much metrical

dexterity and in places a touch of real pathos.

=4. Features of his Works.= (_a_) _Their Reputation._ While Dickens

was in the full tide of his success Thackeray was struggling through

neglect and contempt to recognition. Thackeray’s genius blossomed

slowly, just as Fielding’s did; for that reason the fruit is more

mellow and matured, and perhaps on that account it will last the

longer. Once he had gained the favor of the public he held it, and

among outstanding English novelists there is none whose claim is so

little subject to challenge.

(_b_) _His Method._ “Since the writer of _Tom Jones_ was buried,” says

Thackeray in his preface to _Pendennis_, “no writer of fiction among us

has been permitted to depict to the best of his power a MAN. We must

shape him and give him a certain conventional temper.” Thackeray’s

novels are a protest against this convention. He returns to the

Fielding method: to view his characters steadily and fearlessly, and to

set on record their failings as well as their merits and capacities.

In his hands the results are not flattering to human nature, for most

of his clever people are rogues and most of his virtuous folk are

fools. But whether they are rogues, or fools, or merely blundering

incompetents, his creations are rounded, entire, and quite alive and

convincing.

(_c_) _His Humor and Pathos._ Much has been made of the sneering

cynicism of Thackeray’s humor, and a good deal of the criticism is

true. It was his desire to reveal the truth, and satire is one of his

most potent methods of revelation. His sarcasm, a deadly species, is

husbanded for deserving objects, such as Lord Steyne and (to a lesser

degree) Barnes Newcome. In the case of people who are only stupid, like

Rawdon Crawley, mercy tempers justice; and when Thackeray chooses to

do so he can handle a character with loving tenderness, as can be seen

in the case of Lady Castlewood and of Colonel Newcome. In pathos he

is seldom sentimental, being usually quiet and effective. But at the

thought of the vain, the arrogant, and the mean people of the world

Thackeray barbs his pen, with destructive results.

(_d_) His _style_ is very near to the ideal for a novelist. It is

effortless, and is therefore unobtrusive, detracting in no wise from

the interest in the story. It is also flexible to an extraordinary

degree. We have seen how in _Esmond_ he recaptured the Addisonian

style; this is only one aspect of his mimetic faculty, which in his

burlesques finds ample scope. We add a typical specimen of his style:

As they came up to the house at Walcote, the windows from within

were lighted up with friendly welcome; the supper-table was

spread in the oak-parlour; it seemed as if forgiveness and love

were awaiting the returning prodigal. Two or three familiar

faces of domestics were on the look-out at the porch--the old

housekeeper was there, and young Lockwood from Castlewood in

my lord’s livery of tawny and blue. His dear mistress pressed

his arm as they passed into the hall. Her eyes beamed out on

him with affection indescribable. “Welcome,” was all she said:

as she looked up, putting back her fair curls and black hood. A

sweet rosy smile blushed on her face: Harry thought he had never

seen her look so charming. Her face was lighted with a joy that

was brighter than beauty--she took a hand of her son who was in

the hall waiting his mother--she did not quit Esmond’s arm.

_Henry Esmond_

GEORGE MEREDITH (1828–1909)

Of the later Victorian novelists Meredith takes rank as the most

noteworthy.

=1. His Life.= The known details of Meredith’s earlier life are

still rather scanty, and he himself gives us little enlightenment. He

was born at Portsmouth, and until he was sixteen he was educated in

Germany. At first he studied law, but, rebelling against his legal

studies, took to literature as a profession, contributing to magazines

and newspapers. Like so many of the eager spirits of his day, he was

deeply interested in the struggles of Italy and Germany to be free.

For some considerable time he was reader to a London publishing house;

then, as his own books slowly won their way, he was enabled to give

more time to their composition. In 1867 he was appointed editor of

_The Fortnightly Review._ He died at his home at Boxhill, Surrey.

=2. His Poetry.= During all his career as a novelist Meredith published

much verse. _Chillianwallah_ (1849), his first published work, contains

much spirited verse; other works are _Modern Love_ (1862), _Ballads and

Poems_ (1887), and _Poems_ (1892). Like his novels, much of Meredith’s

poetry is almost willfully obscure, as it undoubtedly is in _Modern

Love_; but in the case of such poems as _The Nuptials of Attila_ he

is clear and vigorous. He loved nature and the open air, and in poems

like the beautiful _Love in the Valley_ such affection is brightly

visible. Like Swinburne, he was always eager to champion the cause of

the oppressed.

=3. His Novels.= Meredith’s first novel of importance is _The Ordeal

of Richard Feverel_ (1859). Almost at one stride he attains to his

full strength, for this novel is typical of much of his later work. In

plot it is rather weak, and almost incredible toward the end. It deals

with a young aristocrat educated on a system laboriously virtuous;

but youthful nature breaks the bonds, and complications follow. Most

of the characters are of the higher ranks of society, and they are

subtly analyzed and elaborately featured. They move languidly across

the story, speaking in a language as extraordinary, in its chiseled

epigrammatic precision, as that of the creatures of Congreve or Oscar

Wilde. The general style of the language is mannered in the extreme; it

is a kind of elaborate literary confectionery--it almost seems a pity

on the part of the hasty novel-reader to swallow it in rude mouthfuls.

Nevertheless, behind this appearance of artificiality there ranges a

mind both subtle and sure, an elfish, satiric spirit, and a passionate

ideal of artistic perfection. Such a novel could hardly hope for a

ready recognition; but its ultimate fame was assured.

The next novel was _Evan Harrington_ (1860), which contains some

details of Meredith’s own family life; then followed _Emilia in

England_ (1864), the name of which was afterward altered to _Sandra

Belloni_, in which the scene is laid partly in Italy. In _Rhoda

Fleming_ (1865) Meredith tried to deal with plebeian folks, but with

indifferent success. The heroines of his later novels--Meredith was

always careful to make his female characters at least as important as

his male ones--are aristocratic in rank and inclinations. _Vittoria_

(1867) is a sequel to _Sandra Belloni_, and contains much spirited

handling of the Italian insurrectionary movement. Then came _The

Adventures of Harry Richmond_ (1870), in which the scene is laid in

England, and _Beauchamp’s Career_ (1874), in which Meredith’s style

is seen in its most exaggerated form. In _The Egoist_ (1879), his

next novel, Meredith may be said to reach the climax of his art. The

style is fully matured, with much less surface glitter and more depth

and solidity; the treatment of the characters is close, accurate,

and amazingly detailed; and the Egoist himself, Sir Willoughby

Patterne--Meredith hunted the egoist as remorselessly as Thackeray

pursued the snob--is a triumph of comic artistry. The later novels

are of less merit. _The Tragic Comedians_ (1880) is chaotic in plot

and over-developed in style; and the same faults may be urged against

_Diana of the Crossways_ (1885), though it contains many beautiful

passages; _One of our Conquerors_ (1890) is nearly impossible in plot

and style, and _The Amazing Marriage_ (1895) is not much better.

We add a short typical specimen of Meredith’s style. Observe the

studied precision of phrase and epithet, the elaboration of detail, and

the imaginative power.

She had the mouth that smiles in repose. The lips met full on

the centre of the bow and thinned along to a lifting dimple;

the eyelids also lifted slightly at the outer corners and

seemed, like the lip into the limpid cheek, quickening up the

temples, as with a run of light, or the ascension indicated

off a shoot of colour. Her features were playfellows of one

another, none of them pretending to rigid correctness, nor

the nose to the ordinary dignity of governess among merry

girls, despite which the nose was of fair design, not acutely

interrogative or inviting to gambols. Aspens imaged in water,

waiting for the breeze, would offer a susceptible lover some

suggestion of her face; a pure smooth-white face, tenderly

flushed in the cheeks, where the gentle dints were faintly

intermelting even during quietness. Her eyes were brown, set

well between mild lids, often shadowed, not unwakeful. Her hair

of lighter brown, swelling above her temples on the sweep to

the knot, imposed the triangle of the fabulous wild woodland

visage from brow to mouth and chin, evidently in agreement

with her taste; and the triangle suited her; but her face was

not significant of a tameless wildness or of weakness; her

equable shut mouth threw its long curve to guard the small

round chin from that effect; her eyes wavered only in humour,

they were steady when thoughtfulness was awakened; and at such

seasons the build of her winter-beechwood hair lost the touch

of nymph-like and whimsical, and strangely, by mere outline,

added to her appearance of studious concentration. Observe the

hawk on stretched wings over the prey he spies, for an idea of

this change in the look of a young lady whom Vernon Whitford

could liken to the Mountain Echo, and Mrs Mountstuart Jenkinson

pronounced to be “a dainty rogue in porcelain.”

_The Egoist_

OTHER NOVELISTS

A history of English literature · 第 14 / 17 章