CHAPTER XI.

POETRY FROM 1850 TO 1870: THE PRE-RAPHAELITES; THE SPASMODIC SCHOOL; MINOR

POETS.

[Sidenote: Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828-1882).]

Contemporary with the great poets, who seem to feel first of all the

imperative necessity of understanding and interpreting the intellectual

movement of the age, were others, some of them great too, in whose work

passion takes a prior place to intellect. Of these the most talented group

were the Pre-Raphaelites, and the greatest man was Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

The celebrated founder of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood was a man who had

the rare fortune to be highly distinguished in two arts. Other

artists--Thomas Woolner and William Bell Scott and Sir Joseph Noel Paton

are contemporary examples--have been poets also; but no one has attained a

level at once as high and as equal in both as Rossetti. He has also been

influential upon others in a degree rare even among men of as great

calibre; and finally, he was only the greatest of a family all highly

gifted in literature.

Rossetti, though English by birth, was more Italian than English by blood,

and he was brought up in an atmosphere largely Italian. Both his literary

and his artistic talents showed themselves early. The literary organ of

the Pre-Raphaelites, _The Germ_, received some of his earliest writings;

but he had begun to compose even earlier, the two well-known pieces, _The

Blessed Damozel_ and _My Sister's Sleep_, having both been written in his

nineteenth year. The greater part of his poetry was composed in early

manhood. On the death of his wife, in 1862, Rossetti, in the transport of

his grief, buried the MSS. in her coffin. They were exhumed in 1869 and

published under the simple title of _Poems_ in 1870. After his wife's

death Rossetti for a long time wrote little poetry, though he continued

his artistic work. In later years the complete breakdown of his health

checked his production. He suffered from insomnia and attempted to cure it

by the use of chloral, with the usual result. Nevertheless, some very fine

pieces, notably _The King's Tragedy_, are of late composition. The later

poems were gathered together in the _Ballads and Sonnets_ of 1881.

Rossetti was also a translator, and in 1861 had published, under the title

of _The Early Italian Poets_, the collection now known as _Dante and his

Circle_. He likewise occasionally wrote prose, his most considerable work

being a story, poetical in spirit, entitled _Hand and Soul_.

Mr. W. D. Howells (quoted in Sharp's _Dante Gabriel Rossetti_) says it

will always be a question whether Rossetti 'had not better have painted

his poems and written his pictures; there is so much that is purely

sensuous in the former and so much that is intellectual in the latter.'

There is certainly an element of truth in this judgment. The sensuousness

was the cause of the celebrated attack entitled _The Fleshly School of

Poetry_, which was met by Rossetti's effective rejoinder, _The Stealthy

School of Criticism_. The poet showed that the attack was in great measure

unjust, but he would not have sought to deny that there was sensuousness

in his poetry. He would have held, on the contrary, that poetry not only

might legitimately be, but ought to be, sensuous. This conception

influenced Rossetti's whole style of poetical portraiture. We see its

effect in the fine description of a girl in _A Last Confession_,

beginning, 'She had a mouth made to bring death to life.' It is all so

written that from it the painter could easily put the portrait on canvas.

But with respect to the allegation of sensuousness, the question for

criticism is one of degree. There are two aspects of it, the moral and the

artistic, which, though not entirely distinct, are best treated apart.

Rossetti's answer was most successful upon the moral side, though even in

this respect there remained one or two pieces not easily justified. From

the artistic point of view, it must be said that the sensuousness is

sometimes so great as to blur the intellectual outlines. We see this

particularly in the sonnets, which many regard as Rossetti's best work in

poetry. He certainly does put into the sonnet a fulness of melody and a

wealth of colour not surpassed and perhaps, in their conjunction, hardly

equalled in the language. But when we ask if the idea of the sonnet stands

out with due clearness, the answer must be in the negative. In the best

sonnets of Milton and Wordsworth, and in a less degree in those of

Drummond of Hawthornden, of Mrs. Browning and of Christina Rossetti, the

idea is precise and definite. Dante Rossetti is a poet who 'deals in

meanings,' but he sometimes darkens, if he does not altogether bury, the

meaning under a wealth of sonorous words. The fault of over-elaboration,

which is chargeable also against the pictorial art of the Pre-Raphaelites,

is visible here. We see it in other aspects too. The sense of spontaneity

is lost; the poet seems to be perpetually aiming at a mark just beyond his

reach; and there is an excessive addiction to some of the subordinate

artifices of verse. Among these Rossetti's favourite is alliteration; and

the reader is not infrequently troubled with the suspicion that a word is

used, not because it is the best, but because it begins with a particular

letter.

A defect kindred in origin, but more serious, is shown in Rossetti's

treatment of nature. One of his best poems of this class is _The Stream's

Secret_. The poet certainly wrote it 'with his eye on the object,' for the

stream in question was no figment of the brain, but the Penwhapple in

Ayrshire. All the more for that reason it illustrates the difference

between inspiration and conscientious study. Rossetti did not feel natural

beauty like Wordsworth, and his descriptions have not the easy grace of

the true poet of nature. He deliberately set out to make a poem, with the

result that he produced a fine piece of skilled workmanship.

Next perhaps to Rossetti's reputation as a writer of sonnets stands his

reputation as a balladist; and it may be questioned whether the order

ought not to be reversed. Rossetti's art was far too elaborate for a

ballad of the genuine old type. Even in _The White Ship_ there is a note

which distinguishes it not only from the true popular ballad, but from

such approximations as the ballads of Scott. But poetry ought to be valued

for what it is, not for conformity with what may possibly be a misleading

standard; and Rossetti's ballads are noble poetry. He imbibed enough of

the ballad spirit to check his habitual faults, and of all his

compositions the ballads are the simplest and most natural. The universal

favourite, _The King's Tragedy_ is a grand story told with great fire and

energy. So, too, _Rose Mary_ is a powerful and beautiful poem, less

uniform however than _The King's Tragedy_, for the lyrics between the

parts are at best second-rate. It is in pieces like these, and in some of

the more clearly-thought sonnets, like _Lost Days_, that Rossetti proves

himself the true poet. The more deeply sensuous sonnets, and such

characteristic pieces as _The Blessed Damozel_, are representative rather

of the dangers and defects of his poetry.

[Sidenote: Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830-1894).]

Less great but hardly less interesting than her brother was Christina

Georgina Rossetti, who, like him, wrote for _The Germ_, though she

published no volume of poems for many years afterwards. Though her course

extends far beyond the limits of the period, the poetical work for which

she is most memorable was chiefly done within it, and her closest

connexions belong to it too. Her first published volume was _Goblin

Market, and other Poems_ (1862); her second, _The Prince's Progress, and

other Poems_ (1866). Then, after some prose tales, came the book of

nursery rhymes, _Sing-Song_ (1872). From this time onwards, except for _A

Pageant, and other Poems_ (1881), Miss Rossetti's books were chiefly of a

devotional character; but one of them, _Time Flies_ (1885), contains some

of the finest of her verse.

The religious poems form a most important section of Christina Rossetti's

works. She is one of the most profoundly devotional of modern writers.

Unlike Arnold and Clough, she is not a poet of doubt but of faith; unlike

Browning's, her creed is rather a creed of feeling than of intellect. But

while she is not touched with the doubt of the age she is touched with its

sadness. Her devotional pieces have sometimes, as in _Advent_, the ring of

conquering faith, but more often they have in them something of a wail.

What Dr. John Brown called the 'inevitable melancholy' of women seems to

find a voice in Christina Rossetti; and though she is bound by her faith

to an ultimately optimistic view, her habitual tone of mind is gloomy.

'Vanity of vanities' is the title of her finest sonnet, and it is also the

conclusion she draws from the life of this world.

One of the praiseworthy points of Christina Rossetti's work is that, while

invariably imaginative, it never fails to be clear. In this respect she

far surpasses her brother. The marks of the artist's chisel are, as we

have seen, too conspicuous in his work; in hers they are invisible. Yet

few writers are more carefully artistic than she. Less ambitious in her

aims than Dante Rossetti, her work impresses the reader with its adequacy

to those aims. Herein she has an advantage over Mrs. Browning also. The

latter has produced a far greater body of work, and at her best writes

with far more strength than Miss Rossetti; but on the other hand Miss

Rossetti is free from those astonishing lapses into bathos or triviality

or mere bad taste which disfigure Mrs. Browning's poetry. The two

poetesses meet most closely in their respective series of sonnets--_Monna

Innominata_ and the _Sonnets from the Portuguese_. These are among the

masterpieces of each, for both were peculiarly happy in the sonnet form;

Christina Rossetti because she was an artist by nature, Mrs. Browning

probably because the form compelled her to be an artist. The comparison is

unquestionably in favour of Mrs. Browning. The _Sonnets from the

Portuguese_ are richer and deeper than _Monna Innominata_. They record a

love actually felt; and they are the product of an intellect wider, though

perhaps less fine than Christina Rossetti's. But as regards the form, it

is by no means clear that the advantage lies with the elder writer. Mrs.

Browning's sonnets are sometimes laboured in expression; Christina

Rossetti's have an inimitable ease, all the more delightful because in

modern poetry it is rare. Her beautifully pure style is one of her

greatest merits; and it is also one of the most striking points of

contrast between her and her brother. A sonorous richness is

characteristic of his style, a fine simplicity of hers. This simplicity,

and the fineness of touch and delicacy of taste which accompanied it,

served her well in those poems of the supernatural where her imaginative

flight is highest. She is a mistress in the fairy realm, and in its own

class _Goblin Market_ is unsurpassed.

[Sidenote: William Edmondstoune Aytoun (1813-1865).]

Another school which sprang up about the middle of the century, taking its

rise in the longing for something deeper and more satisfying than had been

recently in vogue, was that nicknamed 'the Spasmodic.' The name was fixed

upon the school by the extremely clever satirist of it, William

Edmondstoune Aytoun, himself a poet of a very different family, that of

Scott. Aytoun is best known from his _Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers_

(1848), narratives of martial exploit and tragic sorrow written in

animated but excessively rhetorical verse. He was also, in conjunction

with Mr. (afterwards Sir) Theodore Martin, the author of the _Bon Gaultier

Ballads_ (1845), one of the most amusing collections of comic verse of

this century. His satire of the Spasmodic School is contained in

_Firmilian_ (1854), a mock-serious piece purporting to be by a member of

the school. It was at the time customary to say that Aytoun had killed the

Spasmodic School. If he had done so he would hardly have deserved well of

literature. But though it is true that the Spasmodic Poets shot up like a

rocket only to come down like the spent stick, both the rise and the fall

were due partly to whims of popular taste, while the main cause of the

fall lay in defects of the writers which satire did not make and could do

little to remedy. On the whole, _Firmilian_ was more likely to have helped

the school than to have hurt it if it had contained in itself the seeds of

long life. But the name 'spasmodic' was only too accurately descriptive of

more than its style,--unfortunately so, for both the chief members,

Sydney Dobell and Alexander Smith, possessed talents for poetry in some

respects very high.

[Sidenote: Sydney Dobell (1824-1874).]

Sydney Dobell had the misfortune to be born a member of a narrow and

intense religious sect, in which his talents caused him to be regarded as

the destined instrument for some grand design of providence. He outgrew

the sect, but never quite outgrew the education it had given him and the

ideas it had instilled. From about 1850 he devoted himself chiefly to

literature. His writings are _The Roman_ (1850), _Balder_ (1853), _Sonnets

on the War_ (1855), in which he collaborated with Alexander Smith, and

_England in Time of War_ (1856). But his health failed, and though he

lived eighteen years longer he wrote little more of consequence.

'He never weeded his garden,' wrote Dr. John Brown of him, 'and will, I

fear, be therefore strangled in his waste fertility.' This is the central

truth about Dobell. Few poets are so uneven, perhaps hardly any poet

capable of rising so high has ever sunk so low. Many passages are mere

fustian, some are outrages against all taste; but others have a sublimity

not often surpassed.

At the beginning Dobell gave promise of development which, if fulfilled,

would have led him very high indeed. In the short interval between _The

Roman_ and _Balder_ the youthful author had grown surprisingly. _The

Roman_, a fervid poem carrying on a Byronic tradition of interest in

Italy, has all the faults of youth. It is too long, and it is bombastic.

Its chief merit is width of sympathy; and it also contains here and there

hints that promise in the future reach of thought. In _Balder_ we see this

promise redeemed. It is far more forcible than _The Roman_ and it is

loaded with thought. _Balder_ was a poem of vast design. It was to be in

three parts, of which only one was ever published. The purpose was, in

the words of the author's preface, to trace 'the progress of a human being

from Doubt to Faith, from Chaos to Order. Not of Doubt incarnate to Faith

incarnate, but of a doubtful mind to a faithful mind.' The design

therefore bears a certain general resemblance to that of _Paracelsus_.

_Balder_ is not equal to that great poem. It is even more difficult while

less profound, and it is especially far less of a unity. It is, strictly

speaking, paradoxical to regard as a whole what proclaims itself as a

part; but a part of a great design may have completeness in itself, and

this _Balder_ has not.

Again, if we regard the poem in the light most favourable to it, as a

collection of passages in verse, we have to admit the most amazing

inequalities. Few passages in literature are more hideous than the

description of the monster on which Tyranny rides; but, on the other hand,

the best passages may challenge comparison with all but the greatest

poetry. Even this comparison has been sometimes made. The description of

Chamouni has been said to rival the great hymn of Coleridge, and that of

the Coliseum the celebrated stanzas of Byron on the same subject. The

comparison, especially with Coleridge, is unkind to Dobell. At his best he

cannot rival one of the most poetic minds in all literature in one of its

highest flights. Nevertheless, both passages are exceedingly good. The

subjects moreover are characteristic. Magnitude and massiveness are

congenial to Dobell, and almost necessary to draw out his best. 'Alone

among our modern poets,' says Dr. Garnett, 'he finds the sublime a

congenial element.' It is in such passages as those named, and in Balder's

magnificent vision of war, that Dobell shows the grand material of poetry

that was in him.

For this reason it might have been expected that Dobell's next volumes,

_Sonnets on the War_ and _England in Time of War_, would have been more

uniformly good. _The Roman_ proves that he had the fire of patriotism in

his veins, and many passages of his verse show that this fire was not all

spent, as most of Byron's was, to warm other nations than his own. Of all

the poets then living, Dobell had the largest share of Tennyson's

patriotic fervour and of his love for warlike themes. Nevertheless, the

_Sonnets on the War_ are of but moderate merit; and though _England in

Time of War_ contains some powerful pieces, it has all the inequality of

Dobell's earlier poetry. Dobell had learnt little of the art of

self-criticism, and whether he had the capacity to learn must remain

doubtful. He afterwards wrote a few fine poems, such as _The Magyar's

New-Year-Eve_ and _The Youth of England to Garibaldi's Legion_, but broken

health prevented him from undertaking any great work. He remains therefore

a poet great by snatches. A selection, including the passages already

mentioned, _An Evening Dream_, with its stirring ring of heroism, the

fascinating ballad, _Keith of Ravelston_, and some others, might be made,

which would greatly raise his reputation. The volume would not be large,

but the contents would be excellent.

[Sidenote: Alexander Smith (1829-1867).]

Next in importance among the Spasmodic Poets to Dobell was Alexander

Smith. He was the son of a pattern-designer of Kilmarnock, Ayrshire, and

in his now little known but quietly pleasing novel, _Alfred Hagart's

Household_, he has embodied a good deal of autobiographic matter. He was

also the author of a thoughtful and well-written volume of essays,

_Dreamthorp_. But he is first and chiefly a poet. His earliest volume was

_A Life Drama_ (1853), which excited a degree of interest rarely roused by

the first work of a young author. It was warmly praised and loudly

condemned; and the result of the controversy that raged over it was to

make the author for a short time one of the most prominent writers in the

kingdom. But his fame speedily declined, and _City Poems_ (1857), though

it contains some of his best work, was coldly received. _Edwin of Deira_

(1861) was somewhat more successful, but was far from reviving the

interest which had centred in _A Life Drama_.

The present generation, which has been unjust to Dobell, has dealt still

more hardly with Alexander Smith. The Nemesis of excessive praise is

unjust depreciation, and both have been Smith's lot. He has been denied

the title of poet altogether; but he is a poet, and even a considerable

one. He shares both the defects and the excellences of Dobell, never

sinking so low, and, on the other hand, never rising as high. His

execution is unequal, he rants, he uses metaphor to excess, he is by no

means free from affectation. But though the _Life Drama_ is crude and

unequal, there is plenty of promise in it. There was ground to hope that

the spirit from which it proceeded was like a turbid torrent which would

by-and-by deposit its mud and flow on strong and clear. To those who hoped

thus _Edwin of Deira_ was disappointing. A good deal of the mud had been

deposited, the execution was more perfect, but there was less strength and

less volume of thought than might have been expected. It is in his minor

pieces and in occasional lines and passages that Smith shows best. There

is rare beauty in the melancholy close of the lyric _Barbara_ in _Horton_.

The picture of the sphinx, 'staring right on with calm eternal eyes,' has

the true touch of imagination; and so has the image of the wind smiting

'his thunder-harp of pines.' _Glasgow_ in the _City Poems_, is a strong as

well as a beautiful piece. There can be no question of the imaginative

power of this picture of the city in its cloud of smoke pierced by

sunlight:

'When sunset bathes thee in his gold,

In wreaths of bronze thy sides are rolled,

Thy smoke is dusky fire;

And, from the glory round thee poured,

A sunbeam like an angel's sword

Shivers upon a spire.

Thus have I watched thee, Terror! Dream!

While the blue night crept up the stream.'

[Sidenote: Coventry Patmore (1823-1896).]

There remain two or three considerable poets whom it is difficult to

classify. Coventry Patmore cannot be placed in either the Pre-Raphaelite

or the Spasmodic School, and though he has some points of affinity with

the poets of the intellectual movement, they are not close enough to

justify ranking him with them. Patmore is especially the poet of domestic

love. His greatest work, _The Angel in the House_ (1854-1856), was meant

to be a poem on married life. In the opening the poet congratulates

himself that he, though born so late, has had the good fortune to discover

'the first of themes sung last of all.' As he proceeded however he found

his mistake, and never carried out his design; but it imparted the

characteristic tone of quiet domestic affection to his verse. He may be

described as the Wordsworth of the home. He is seldom if ever great, but

his verse at its best has a simple sweetness, with an occasional dignity,

that is exceedingly pleasing. It is unfortunate that against the merits of

the better passages of _The Angel in the House_ there has to be set the

weakness of the letters of Jane. Patmore's purpose was to fit the thought

to the character; but merely weak thought and merely weak character have

no right to a place in poetry such as this. There is no dramatic

realisation and no humour to justify them.

_The Unknown Eros_ (1877) is a work strangely different from _The Angel

in the House_; it is more lyrical and more ambitiously imaginative; and

for this very reason it brings into greater prominence Patmore's

weaknesses. There is a frequent sense of effort. The meaning is often

obscure, and there are here and there, as in the earlier poem, surprising

lapses of taste. The poem recalls Drummond of Hawthornden, not only by the

rhythm, but also by a certain 'preciosity' of diction and imagery.

[Sidenote: The second Lord Lytton (1831-1891).]

The second Lord Lytton, best known in literature by his pseudonym of Owen

Meredith, must also be ranked among 'the unattached' of literature. He had

a distinguished diplomatic career which more than once interrupted his

pen. But, except for the intervals caused by his various ambassadorships

and his eventful tenure of the Viceroyalty of India, Lytton was, from 1855

to his death, a diligent writer. In 1855 _Clytemnestra and other Poems_

appeared, while _Marah_ was a posthumous work. The greater part of

Lytton's writings is poetical, and their total bulk is very great. It is

indeed too great for his fame, and most of his poems would be improved by

condensation. Lytton presents a singular example of heredity, which, in

his case, showed itself in a manner damaging to his reputation. We have

seen how the first Lord Lytton veered with every turn of the popular

taste. The second Lord Lytton changed his style, chameleon-like, with

almost every poet he happened to be reading. The consequence is, in the

first place, that his own style is not easily discovered; and in the

second place that he has been accused of plagiarism with more show of

reason than almost any other man of equal literary rank. It is not merely

that he echoes successively the pensive sentiment and melancholy

reflectiveness of Arnold, the rich diction of Tennyson, the headlong

abundance of Browning, the lyrical sweetness of Shelley, or that he in a

snatch or two almost paraphrases Byron. In _Lucile_, his indebtedness to

George Sand is far more extensive. It is true he avowed that he had taken

from her the story of the piece; but the story is the principal part of

it, and no writer ought to borrow quite so much from another. The fault is

a serious one, and it is reason sufficient for the belief that Owen

Meredith will never take a high place in poetry; yet his endowments were

almost great, his taste was purer than his father's, and had he been more

independent-minded he might have stood high in the second class of the

poets of the century.

[Sidenote: J. B. Leicester Warren, Lord de Tabley (1835-1895).]

J. B. Leicester Warren, Lord de Tabley, was a man of richer poetic gifts,

who might have done very great work had he met with popular encouragement.

He began his poetic career as early as 1859, but his first volume of

importance was _Praeterita_, issued under the pseudonym of William

Lancaster, in 1863. For the next ten years he was an active writer. Partly

his own taste and partly admiration for _Atalanta in Calydon_ induced him

to attempt the classical drama; and his two experiments, _Philoctetes_

(1866) and _Orestes_ (1867), rank among the most finished of their class.

They secured the warm approval of the best judges, but they did not become

popular. He tried novels, also without winning popularity; and after two

more experiments in verse--_Rehearsals_ (1870) and _Searching the Net_

(1873)--he almost disappeared from the ranks of authors for twenty years;

for the _Soldier of Fortune_, though bulky, can hardly be considered

important. It was the reissue in 1893 of his best pieces under the title

of _Poems Dramatic and Lyrical_ that first made Lord de Tabley's name

widely known. So marked was the success of this collection that it was

followed two years later by another, which was less successful because it

was the result of a less rigid selection.

These volumes represent Lord de Tabley at his best, and that best is very

good indeed. Such pieces as the _Hymn to Astarte_, the _Woodland Grave_

and _Jael_, would do honour to any poet. There is intense dramatic power

in the last-named piece, and a rich magnificence of style in the others. A

tendency to sameness may sometimes be detected. He has, for example, one

favourite colour, and the whole world is seen by him bathed in an amber

light. There are also here and there echoes of contemporary poets, such as

Browning, and still more, Swinburne, whose fulness of sound attracted De

Tabley. But he is an essentially independent poet, and had he been

encouraged to write he would doubtless have grown increasingly

independent. Few losses in contemporary literature are more serious than

that occasioned by his almost complete silence between 1873 and 1893, just

the years when, by reason of his age, his work ought to have been best. He

was a great man unrecognised, and the failure to recognise is sometimes

severely punished.

[Sidenote: William Morris (1834-1896).]

Most of Lord de Tabley's contemporaries by birth belong rather to the

subsequent period than to the Age of Tennyson. Even Swinburne did so,

though before 1870 he had, by the publication of _Atalanta in Calydon_

(1865), enriched English literature with one of its most perfect dramas on

the Greek model, and by the _Poems and Ballads_ (1866) had 'raised a

storm, and founded a school.' The fact that he founded a school makes him

rather the poetical leader of the present generation than a member of the

preceding one. In some ways Lord de Tabley has more affinity to this later

band than to those who were under the dominion of Carlyle and Browning and

Tennyson. He certainly shows the workings of a new spirit, and seems to

feel the old ideals insufficient; but his twenty years of literary eclipse

serve to fix him chronologically rather among the older men. For a

different reason William Morris, a man just one year older than De Tabley,

also belongs, as a poet, to this period. Morris was a man who played many

parts in life, and he played them not concurrently, but rather

successively. In his characters as high priest of domestic art and as

prophet to the Socialists he is identified with the closing quarter of the

century; while his greatest achievements in poetry belong to the third

quarter. _The Defence of Guenevere and other Poems_ (1858) was his first

volume of verse. Then after nine years came _The Life and Death of Jason_,

followed almost immediately by _The Earthly Paradise_ (1868-1870). Morris

afterwards translated the _Aeneid_ and the _Odyssey_, and he also did much

to make familiar in England the spirit of Icelandic literature. His

_Sigurd the Volsung_ (1876) is certainly the finest English poem inspired

by Scandinavia, and perhaps his greatest work.

Morris is the most prominent example in these later days of that revival

of the mediaeval spirit which was initiated by the Romanticists of the

latter part of last century, which attained its fullest flower in Scott,

and which shows itself in such varied aspects in Rossetti's poetry, in the

Pre-Raphaelite painters, and in the Oxford theologians. Morris exhibits it

in a way quite his own. Chaucer more than any one else is his master in

poetry. To him Morris reverted for the model of his verse, and the old

poet's influence is seen in the disciple's mode of conception as well as

in many turns of expression. One thing however Morris could not learn,

though Chaucer was eminently qualified to teach it, and that was the true

narrative spirit. Morris chose the narrative form, but the interest of

his poetry rarely lies in the story. He does not himself care greatly for

the story. He is never passionate; he is too calm to enter deeply into the

feelings or to be absorbed in the fortunes of his characters. The charm of

his poetry resides rather in leisurely and restful beauty of description.

In this respect it ranks high, but seldom attains absolute mastery. Nearly

all of Morris is readable and enjoyable, but few of his lines linger in

the memory, and perhaps the only one frequently quoted is that in which he

describes himself as 'the idle singer of an empty day.' Morris was more

than this, but it may be questioned whether there is enough either of the

substance of thought in his verse or of melody and pure poetic beauty to

keep it long alive.

MINOR POETS.

[Sidenote: Sarah Flower Adams (1805-1848).]

Sarah Flower Adams is sure of at least a small niche in the temple of the

English poets were it but for the beautiful hymn, 'Nearer, my God, to

thee.' Her _Vivia Perpetua_ is an ill-constructed drama, partly redeemed

by fine passages.

[Sidenote: William Allingham (1824-1889).]

William Allingham was an Irish poet, of much taste, but of no great power.

His inspiration is strangely fitful and uncertain, and after his removal

to London, in consequence of the success of his earlier verses, it seemed

almost wholly to desert him. He was for a time editor of _Fraser's

Magazine_.

[Sidenote: John Stuart Blackie (1809-1895).]

John Stuart Blackie, for many years Professor of Greek in Edinburgh

University, was a very vigorous miscellaneous writer. He translated

Aeschylus, the _Iliad_ and _Faust_. He was very successful in the lighter

lyrical strain, and appears at his best in his rollicking and amusing

university songs.

[Sidenote: Robert Barnabas Brough (1828-1860).]

Robert Barnabas Brough was the author of _Songs of the Governing Classes_

(1859), a small collection of pieces, chiefly satirical, and remarkable

for their vigour, point and sincerity. Strength of feeling, clearness of

intellect and wit are his characteristics. Brough was generally very much

in earnest, but in his _Neighbour Nellie_ he showed that he could touch

lighter themes very charmingly.

[Sidenote: Charles Stuart Calverley (1831-1884).]

Charles Stuart Calverley, the scholarly and witty author of _Verses and

Translations_ (1862) and _Fly Leaves_ (1872), had a faculty for more

serious things, but, partly from indifference, partly because of the

accident which made great effort in his later years impossible, he never

wrote anything worthy of his talents. What he has left however is the very

best of its kind. He is one of the most skilful of translators; and his

parodies and satiric verse are excellent.

[Sidenote: Mortimer Collins (1827-1876).]

Mortimer Collins, poet and novelist, had a very happy knack for the

lighter kinds of lyrical verse, half playful and half serious. Under

pressure of circumstances he wrote too much, and the failure to 'polish

and refine' tells against a great deal of his work.

[Sidenote: William Cory (1823-1892).]

William Cory, originally Johnson, for many years one of the masters of

Eton, was the author of a small volume of Poems entitled _Ionica_ (1858),

which, after long neglect, won, in its third edition of 1891, the

attention due to thoughtfulness and scholarly expression. Cory's best

pieces, such as _Mimnermus in Church_, soar beyond the range of the minor

poet, and show that it only needed quantity to insure him a considerable

place in literature. But he wrote few such pieces, and indeed little verse

of any kind after _Ionica_.

[Sidenote: Sir Francis Hastings Doyle (1810-1888).]

Sir Francis Hastings Doyle succeeded Matthew Arnold in the chair of poetry

at Oxford. Doyle is distinguished for the spirit and the martial ring of

the ballads in which he celebrates deeds of daring. _The Red Thread of

Honour_, _The Private of the Buffs_, and _Mehrab Khan_ are pieces that

take high rank among poems inspired by sympathy with the heroism of the

soldier.

[Sidenote: Sir Samuel Ferguson (1810-1886).]

Sir Samuel Ferguson has been called the national poet of Ireland, on the

score of _Congal_, an epic published in 1872. He is really more remarkable

for his shorter pieces, some of the best of which deal with subjects not

specially Irish. He was an active contributor to the _Dublin University

Magazine_ at the beginning of the period.

[Sidenote: Adam Lindsay Gordon (1833-1870).]

Adam Lindsay Gordon divides with Charles Harpur and Alfred Domett

(Browning's 'Waring') the honour of being laureate of the Antipodes.

Wildness in youth drove him to Australia. It is probably true that but for

the stirring and adventurous life there he never would have written

anything of note; nevertheless, what we find in his verse is rather the

spirit of the English hunting field and of English adventure the world

over, than much that is distinctively Australian.

[Sidenote: David Gray (1838-1861).]

David Gray, author of _The Luggie_, a poem on a small stream which flowed

near his home, was cut off too soon to do much in literature. His verse

however is pleasant, and it might have acquired power. It retains a

pathetic interest on account of the author's fate. He was drawn by the

hope of fame from his native village to London, caught a cold there, and

died while his poem was in process of printing.

[Sidenote: Dora Greenwell (1821-1882).]

Dora Greenwell is chiefly remarkable as a writer of religious verse, the

best of which is to be found in _Carmina Crucis_. She also wrote prose of

considerable merit.

[Sidenote: Robert Stephen Hawker (1803-1875).]

Robert Stephen Hawker, a clergyman who spent his life in the remote parish

of Morwenstow, in Cornwall, is best known for his _Cornish Ballads_

(1869). The spirited and stirring _Song of the Western Men_, printed as

early as 1826, and accepted by Scott as a genuine old ballad, is the most

celebrated of all his compositions. Hawker wrote also _The Quest of the

Sangraal_ (1863), a poem displaying a mysticism which must have been

deep-seated in the author's character; for it led to his reception, just

before he died, into the Roman Catholic Church.

[Sidenote: Jean Ingelow (1820-1897).]

Jean Ingelow is one of the best of recent poetesses, and has also acquired

a considerable, though a less conspicuous name as a writer of fiction. She

is best as a lyrist, and some of her poems are touched with a very fine

and true pathos. She likewise excels in the modern ballad form.

[Sidenote: Edward Lear (1812-1888).]

Edward Lear, author of the _Nonsense Rhymes_ (1861) stands high in the

very peculiar and difficult kind of writing indicated by the title of his

book. There are other writers of humorous verse, like Lewis Carroll, who

possess greater qualities, but the _Nonsense Rhymes_ are unique for rich

whimsical inventiveness. Lear was an artist as well as a writer, and

illustrated his own books.

[Sidenote: Gerald Massey (1828-1907).]

Gerald Massey is a minor poet of unusual range. His attachment to the

Christian Socialists gives a clue to his work; but in him the enthusiasm

of humanity is concentrated in an intense patriotism. Massey's martial

verse is fine, but not quite excellent. _Sir Richard Grenville's Last

Fight_ suggests comparison with Tennyson's _Revenge_; and the comparison

illustrates the difference between good art and consummate art. Neither is

Massey the equal of Doyle on this side; but he is far more varied and

copious.

[Sidenote: The Honourable Mrs. Norton (1808-1877).]

The Honourable Mrs. Norton was a grand-daughter of Richard Brinsley

Sheridan, and inherited some of the family genius. Her poetic gift was not

great, but her verse is spirited, and has frequently a ring of genuine

pathos. Her sister, Lady Dufferin, also wrote verse, which, though less

brilliant than Mrs. Norton's, is on the whole of a more poetic quality.

[Sidenote: Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864).]

Adelaide Anne Procter, daughter of Barry Cornwall, was a pleasing writer

of the type of Mrs. Hemans, that is to say, feminine in the less

flattering sense. There is a certain grace in her verse, but it is

altogether destitute of weight and power of thought. Most of her poems

were originally contributed to Dickens's papers, _Household Words_ and

_All the Year Round_.

[Sidenote: William Caldwell Roscoe (1823-1859).]

William Caldwell Roscoe was at once lyrist, dramatist and critic, but

failed to achieve greatness in any of these lines. If Roscoe had lived

longer he might possibly have justified the opinion of his friends; but

his actual performance, though graceful, is not weighty.

[Sidenote: William Bell Scott (1811-1890).]

William Bell Scott was a poet-painter, related to and in general sympathy

with the Pre-Raphaelites, but never a member of the brotherhood. Scott's

verse is characterised by mysticism; but mysticism in verse demands very

skilful expression, and Scott's power over language was not sufficient.

Perhaps his best poem is _The Sphinx_.

[Sidenote: Menella Bute Smedley (1820-1877).]

Menella Bute Smedley wrote both prose and verse well, and occasionally

with distinction. Though an invalid, she published several volumes of

poetry, and contributed to her sister, Mrs. Hart's _Child-World_ and

_Poems written for a Child_. Miss Smedley, like so many female writers, is

in many of her poems markedly patriotic, and, though sometimes too

rhetorical, she is, when stirred, successful in pieces of this type.

[Sidenote: George Walter Thornbury (1828-1876).]

George Walter Thornbury, historian of the buccaneers, was also a poet who,

in his _Songs of the Cavaliers and Roundheads_ (1857) showed considerable

skill in rapid and spirited narrative. The best of his later poems are

gathered up in _Legendary and Historic Ballads_ (1875).

[Sidenote: Aubrey de Vere (1814-1902).]

Aubrey de Vere, an Irish poet, has written, in the course of his long

career, a good deal of pleasing and thoughtful verse. His sonnets are

especially good, as were also his father's, but they would be still better

if they were more terse. Much of his verse is religious, and the mystical

tone of mind, indicative of the tendency which led him, as it led Hawker,

into the Roman Catholic Church, is the one most distinctive of him.

The Age of Tennyson · 第 11 / 12 章