No More Learning



## p. 14559 (#121) ##########################################

JEREMY TAYLOR
14559
ON HUSBAND AND WIFE
From Sermon: The Marriage Ring'
M
AN and wife are equally concerned to avoid all offenses of
each other in the beginning of their conversation,- every
little thing that can blast an infant blossom: and the
breath of the south can shake the little rings of the vine when
first they begin to curl like the locks of a new-weaned boy;
but when by age and consolidation they stiffen into the hardness.
of a stem, and have, by the warm embraces of the sun and the
kisses of heaven, brought forth their clusters, they can endure
the storms of the north, and the loud noises of a tempest, and
yet never be broken: so are the early unions of an unfixed mar-
riage,― watchful and observant, jealous and busy, unquisitive
and careful, and apt to take alarm at every unkind word. For
infirmities do not manifest themselves in the first scenes, but in
the succession of a long society; and it is not chance or weak-
ness when it appears at first, but it is a want of love or prudence,
or it will be so expounded; and that which appears ill at first,
usually affrights the inexperienced man or woman, who makes
unequal conjectures, and fancies mighty sorrows by the propor-
tions of the new and early unkindness.
Let man and wife be careful to stifle little things,-as fast
as they spring, they be cut down and trod upon; for if they be
suffered to grow by numbers, they make the spirit peevish, and
the society troublesome, and the affections loose and easy by an
habitual aversion. Some men are more vexed with a fly than
with a wound; and when the gnats disturb our sleep, and the
reason is disquieted but not perfectly awakened, it is often seen
that he is fuller of trouble than if, in the daylight of his reason,
he were to contest with a potent enemy. In the frequent little
accidents of a family, a man's reason cannot always be awake;
and when his discourses are imperfect, and a trifling trouble
makes him yet more restless, he is soon betrayed to the violence
of passion. It is certain that the man or woman are in a state
of weakness and folly then, when they can be troubled with a
trifling accident; and therefore it is not good to tempt their
affections, when they are in that state of danger. In this case
the caution is to subtract fuel from the sudden flame; for stub-
ble, though it be quickly kindled, yet it is as soon extinguished,
if it be not blown by a pertinacious breath or fed with new


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14560
JEREMY TAYLOR
materials. Add no new provocations to the accident, and do not
inflame this, and peace will soon return; and the discontent will
pass away soon, as the sparks from the collision of a flint: ever
remembering that discontent proceeding from little daily things
do breed a secret undiscernible disease, which is more dangerous
than a fever proceeding from a discerned notorious surfeit.
Let them be sure to abstain from all those things which by
experience and observation they find to be contrary to each other.
They that govern elephants never appear before them in white;
and the masters of bulls keep from them all garments of blood
and scarlet, as knowing that they will be impatient of civil
usages and discipline, when their natures are provoked by their
proper antipathies. The ancient in their marital hieroglyphics
used to depict Mercury standing by Venus, to signify that by
fair language and sweet entreaties the minds of each other should
be united; and hard by them
they would have all de-
liciousness of manners, compliance, and mutual observance to
abide.
THE VALUE OF AN HOUR
From Rules and Exercises of Holy Dying'
IN
N TAKING the accounts of your life, do not reckon by great dis-
tances, and by the periods of pleasure, or the satisfaction of
your hopes, or the sating your desires; but let every inter-
medial day and hour pass with observation. He that reckons
he hath lived but so many harvests, thinks they come not often
enough, and that they go away too soon. Some lose the day
with longing for the night, and the night in waiting for the day.
Hope and fantastic expectations spend much of our lives; and
while with passion we look for a coronation, or the death of an
enemy, or a day of joy, passing from fancy to possession with-
out any intermedial notices, we throw away a precious year, and
use it but as the burden of our time,-fit to be pared off and
thrown away, that we may come at those little pleasures which
first steal our hearts, and then steal our life.
12


## p. 14561 (#123) ##########################################

JEREMY TAYLOR
14561
LIFE AND DEATH
From Rules and Exercises of Holy Dying'
X
ERXES wept sadly when he saw his army of thirteen hundred
thousand men, because he considered that within a hun-
dred years all the youth of that army should be dust and
ashes: and yet, as Seneca well observes of him, he was the man
that should bring them to their graves; and he consumed all that
army in two years, for whom he feared and wept the death after
an hundred. Just so do we all.
THE ROSE
From Rules and Exercises of Holy Dying'
have I seen a rose newly springing from the clefts of its
hood, and at first it was fair as the morning, and full with
the dew of heaven as a lamb's fleece: but when a ruder
breath had forced open its virgin modesty, and dismantled its too
youthful and unripe retirements, it began to put on darkness,
and to decline to softness and the symptoms of a sickly age: it
bowed the head, and broke its stalk, and at night having lost.
some of its leaves and all its beauty, it fell into the portion of
weeds and outworn faces. The same is the portion of every man
and every woman.
REMEDIES AGAINST IMPATIENCE
From Rules and Exercises of Holy Dying'
ERTAIN it is, reason was as well given us to harden our spir-
its, and stiffen them in passions and sad accidents, as to
make us bending and apt for action: and if in men God
hath heightened the faculties of apprehension, he hath increased
the auxiliaries of reasonable strengths, that God's rod and God's
staff might go together; and the beam of God's countenance may
as well refresh us with its light as scorch us with its heat. But
poor children that endure so much, have not inward supports
and refreshments to bear them through it: they never heard the
sayings of old men, nor have been taught the principles of
severe philosophy, nor are assisted with the results of a long
experience, nor know they how to turn a sickness into virtue.
XXV-911


## p. 14562 (#124) ##########################################

14562
JEREMY TAYLOR
and a fever into a reward; nor have they any sense of favors,
the remembrance of which may alleviate their burden: and yet
nature hath in them teeth and nails enough to scratch and fight
against their sickness; and by such aids as God is pleased to
give them, they wade through the storm, and murmur not. And
besides this, yet although infants have not such brisk perceptions
upon the stock of reason, they have a more tender feeling upon
the accounts of sense; and their flesh is as uneasy by their un-
natural softness and weak shoulders as ours by our too forward
apprehensions. Therefore bear up: either you or I, or some
an wiser, and many a woman weaker, than us both, or the very
children, have endured worse evil than this that is upon thee
now.
That sorrow is hugely tolerable which gives its smart but by
instants and smallest proportions of time. No man at once feels
the sickness of a week, or of a whole day, but the smart of an
instant; and still every portion of a minute feels but its proper
share, and the last groan ended all the sorrow of its peculiar
burden. And what minute can that be which can pretend to be
intolerable? and the next minute is but the same as the last,
and the pain flows like the drops of a river, or the little shreds
of time: and if we do but take care of the present minute, it
cannot seem a great charge or a great burden; but that care will
secure one duty, if we still but secure the present minute.


## p. 14562 (#125) ##########################################



## p. 14562 (#126) ##########################################


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## p. 14562 (#127) ##########################################

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## p. 14563 (#129) ##########################################

14563
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
(1782-1846)
BY WILLIAM MORTON PAYNE
N HIS interesting critical study of Tegnér, Dr. Brandes assigns
the poet his place in Swedish literature in the following
terms: "He is not the greatest poet of the Swedish tongue:
one great singer before him, and after him another, molded that
speech into forms that surpass his in perspicuity and actual life. But
it is with Bellman and Runeberg that he must be named and classed;
and while he is inferior to them as a poet, he outshines them both
intellectually. " Tegnér appeared in Swedish literature at the time of
sharpest conflict between the two poetical camps of the Phosphorists
and the Gothics, and the day was won definitely for the latter by his
activity. The Phosphorists, represented by such men as Atterbom,
Stagnelius, and Sjöberg (Vitalis), were the standard-bearers of a misty
romanticism inspired by the contemporary movement of thought in
Germany, and even improving upon its models in the direction of
the fantastic and the transcendental. The Gothic school, on the other
hand, chiefly represented by Geijer, Afzelius, and Ling,- pursued
a more local and national ideal, seeking in the life and legendary
history of the North the materials for a literature that should be
independent of foreign influences. The advent of Tegnér was decisive
for this conflict of ideals; for in him the national principle found as
valiant a representative as it had found in Denmark in the person of
Oehlenschläger, and in the presence of his work the controversy was
silenced.
Esaias Tegnér, born November 13th, 1782, was sprung from the
purest of peasant stock. His father, who was parish priest of Kyr-
kerud, died a few years later, leaving a widow and six children (of
whom Esaias was the fifth in age) without any means of support. A
neighboring official agreed to take charge of Esaias, and provided
the nine-year-old boy with a place in his home and his office, where
he was given some simple clerical work. His employer's business
took him upon many excursions through the Wermeland district; and
the boy, who usually went with him, received a deep impression
of the natural beauties of the country. At the same time he was
an eager reader of poetry, history, and saga-books; and we have
thus accounted for the two distinguishing traits of his writings, -a


## p. 14564 (#130) ##########################################

14564
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
passionate love of nature and a deep sense of the significance of the
legendary past. One evening, returning from one of these country
excursions, he astonished his employer by taking an intelligent part
in a conversation upon "God's omnipotence and its visible traces
throughout nature. " The old man was so impressed by this preco-
city that a few days later he announced his intention of giving the
boy an academic education.
After two or three years of fitting, under the care of an elder
brother who occupied the post of private tutor in a wealthy family,
Tegnér entered the University of Lund in 1799, at the age of sev-
enteen. In 1802 he took his degree, and received the laurel crown
bestowed upon successful candidates; and soon thereafter got into
a serious scrape by participating in a student demonstration against
the unpopular rector of the university. But his friends saved him.
from the disgrace of the consilium abeundi cum infamia, and got him
instead an appointment as docent. His vacations were spent with the
family in which he had been prepared for college, and he soon won
the love of the daughter of the house. The story of his courtship,
to say nothing of the boy-and-girl intercourse of the earlier years,
may be read plainly enough in the love episodes of 'Frithjof's
Saga'; for Tegnér put into his own poetry the candor that he
esteemed so highly in other men, and much of his work is hardly
more than a direct transcript of his own experience. After his mar-
riage, he remained at Lund for many years; until 1810 as docent,
then as lecturer on Greek literature, and finally as full professor,—
a post which carried with it, according to the curious Swedish cus-
tom, the duties of a parish priest, although the incumbent had taken
no degree in theology. Promotion to a bishopric followed as a mat-
ter of course in the case of so brilliant a man as Tegnér, and he
was given charge of the diocese of Vexiö in 1825. He made a very
active sort of bishop; his first care being to clear his diocese of
drunken clergymen, or at least to insist that they should not appear
drunk on public occasions. He also undertook a close supervision
of the parish schools under his charge, and took pains to see that
his subordinates kept their accounts correctly. This very wholesome
way of looking at his official duties was characteristic of a man who
cared little for theology, but who recognized the importance of con-
duct. He accepted the forms of the established church, but inter-
preted them in a liberal spirit. The rationalism of the eighteenth
century had left its mark upon him, and he was never orthodox in
the narrow intolerant sense. His instincts were so unclerical as to
enable him to enjoy a jest, even if the subject were of questionable
taste; and he retained throughout the years of his health a certain
buoyancy of spirits that marked him as a true child of the world.


## p. 14565 (#131) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNER
14565
In thus sketching Tegnér's official life, we have anticipated a little,
and must turn back to the time of his docentship, when his first fame
as a poet was won. His first poem of importance was a thrilling
war-song, 'För Skånska Landtvärnet' (For the Reserves of Scania),
written in 1808. In 1811 the fine patriotic poem 'Svea' won the
prize of the Swedish Academy. Many other poems followed, and his
most famous works were produced before the date of his removal to
Vexiö. The last five years of his stay in Lund witnessed the publi-
cation of the three poems by which he is most widely known. They
are the beautiful idyl 'Nattvärdsbarnen' (The Children of the Lord's
Supper), which the translation of Longfellow has made one of the
most familiar of English poems; the narrative poem 'Axel,' rich in
sentiment and diversified by exquisite lyrical episodes; and the world-
famous cycle of Frithjof's Saga. ' The first of these three poems is
in hexameters, and was obviously inspired by 'Goethe's 'Hermann
and Dorothea'; while the second is in rhymed octosyllabic verse, and
much in the manner of Byron. As for the last of the three, a great
variety of metrical forms is made use of in the several songs or
cantos, and the most astonishing virtuosity in the poetical use of the
Swedish language is displayed. The subject of the 'Frithjof's Saga'
is taken from the Icelandic tale of 'Frithjof the Bold,' one of the
later and more sophisticated products of the old Norse genius for
story-telling. The significance of this choice of a subject, which pre-
ferred to the simple and rugged themes of the great age of saga-
writing one belonging to a more self-conscious and artificial period,
is thus commented upon by Professor Ker:-"The original Frithjof
is almost as remote as Tegnér himself from the true heroic tradition;
and like Tegnér's poem, makes up for this want of a pedigree by a
study and imitation of the great manner, and by a selection and com-
bination of heroic traits from the older authentic literature. " But
criticism, although it may cavil at the choice of subject, and at the
rhetorical character of the diction, and at the poet's flagrant violation
of historical verisimilitude, cannot rob this poem of its beauty, or
lessen its appeal to every noble instinct and generous sentiment. It
has made its way triumphantly round the world, and been translated
into almost every civilized tongue. There are not less than a score
of English translations, and nearly that number in the German lan-
guage.
For a number of years after he became Bishop of Vexiö, Teg-
nér's life was one of rich and varied activity. Besides performing
his strictly official duties, he wrote many poems, and made many
addresses upon educational and other occasions. But the cloud was
slowly gathering that was to break upon his life and destroy its
fairest prospects. Attacked by an insidious disease, the nature of


## p. 14566 (#132) ##########################################

14566
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
which long baffled his physicians, his mind broke down, and insanity
made him its prey. During the years 1830-40 the shadow grew
darker and darker, until in the latter year his intellect gave way
completely, and he had to be placed in an asylum. Within a year
partial recovery followed, and he was able again to take up his work.
But his powers were failing in other directions also, and in 1845 he
applied for relief from his duties. The year following, he succumbed
to a stroke of paralysis; and died November 2d, 1846. His mind was
clear at the end, and his last words were: "I will lift up my hands
unto the house and the mountain of God. "
The impression made upon the student of his life and works is
well stated in the words with which Dr. Brandes closes the mono-
graph mentioned at the beginning of this article:-
«Esaias Tegnér was beyond all else a whole man; for in his faults as well
as his virtues he was an honest upright soul, easily wrought upon, but with a
radiant love for the beautiful and the true. His human and earthly nature is
so full of worth that it must always remain in a high degree attractive and
interesting to every one who can appreciate the value of a rich personality;
while the ideal image of Tegnér the poet will ever stand in luminous outline
before the people upon whom he once shone as a living beam from the sun
of the nineteenth century.
Etta Paye
FROM FRITHIOF'S SAGA'
FRITHIOF AND INGEBORG
[Ingeborg, daughter of Bele, King of Sygua-fylke in Norway, having lost
her mother, is brought up by her foster-father Hilding, who also rears Frithiof.
Frithiof and Ingeborg become lovers; but her brothers refuse her to Frithiof,
because they are jealous of his superior valor and fame. ]
TWO
wo plants, in Hilding's garden fair,
Grew up beneath his fostering care;
Their match the North had never seen,
So nobly towered they in the green!
The one shot forth like some broad oak,
Its trunk a battle lance unbroke;
But helmet-like the top ascends,
As heaven's soft breeze its arched round bends.
Like some sweet rose, - bleak winter flown,-
That other fresh young plant y-shone;
-


## p. 14567 (#133) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
14567
From out this rose spring yet scarce gleameth,
Within the bud it lies and dreameth.
But cloud-sprung storm round th' earth shall go,—
That oak then wrestles with his foe;
Her heavenly path spring's sun shall tread,—
Then opes that rose her lips so red!
Thus sportful, glad, and green they sprung:
And Frithiof was that oak the young;
The rose so brightly blooming there,
She hight was Ingeborg the fair.
Saw'st thou the two by gold-beamed day,
To Freja's courts thy thoughts would stray;
Where, bright-haired and with rosy pinions,
Swings many a bride pair, Love's own minions.
But saw'st thou them, by moonlight's sheen,
Dance round beneath the leafy green,
Thou'dst say, In yon sweet garland grove
The king and queen of fairies move.
How precious was the prize he earned
When his first rune the youth had learned!
No king's could his bright glory reach,—
That letter would he Ing'borg teach.
How gladly at her side steered he
His barque across the dark blue sea!
When gaily tacking Frithiof stands,
How merrily clap her small white hands!
No birds' nests yet so lofty were,
That thither he not climbed for her;
E'en th' eagle, as he cloudward swung,
Was plundered both of eggs and young.
No streamlet's waters rushed so swift,
O'er which he would not Ing'borg lift;
So pleasant feels, when foam-rush 'larms,
The gentle cling of small white arms!
The first pale flower that spring had shed,
The strawberry sweet that first grew red,
The corn-ear first in ripe gold clad,
To her he offered, true and glad.


## p. 14568 (#134) ##########################################

14568
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
But childhood's days full quickly fly:
He stands a stripling now, with eye
Of haughty fire which hopes and prayeth;
And she, with budding breast, see! strayeth.
The chase young Frithiof ceaseless sought;
Nor oft would hunter so have fought:
For, swordless, spearless all, he'd dare
With naked strength the savage bear;
Then breast to breast they struggled grim;-
Though torn, the bold youth masters him!
With shaggy hide now see him laden:
Such spoils refuse, how can the maiden?
For man's brave deeds still women wile;
Strength well is worth young beauty's smile:
Each other suit they, fitly blending
Like helm o'er polished brows soft bending!
But read he, some cold winter's night,
(The fire-hearth's flaming blaze his light,)
A song of Valhall's brightnesses,
And all its gods and goddesses,-
He'd think, "Yes! yellow's Freja's hair,
A cornland sea, breeze-waved so fair;
Sure Ing'borg's, that like gold-net trembles
Round rose and lily, hers resembles!
"Rich, white, soft, clear is Idun's breast;
How it heaves beneath her silken vest!
A silk I know, whose heave discloses
Light-fairies two with budding roses.
"And blue are Frigga's eyes to see,
Blue as heaven's cloudless canopy!
But I know eyes, to whose bright beams
The light-blue spring day darksome seems.
-
"The bards praise Gerda's cheeks too high,
Fresh snows which playful north-lights dye!
I cheeks have seen whose day lights, clear,
Two dawnings blushing in one sphere.
"A heart like Nanna's own I've found,
As tender-why not so renowned ?


## p. 14569 (#135) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
14569
Ah! happy Balder: ilk breast swelleth
To share the death thy scald o'ertelleth.
"Yes! could my death like Balder's be,-
A faithful maid lamenting me,-
A maid like Nanna, tender, true,-
How glad I'd stay with Hel the blue! "
-
But the king's child-all glad her love -
Sat murmuring hero-songs, and wove
Th' adventures that her chief had seen,
And billows blue, and groves of green;
Slow start from out the wool's snow-fields
Round, gold-embroidered, shining shields,
And battle's lances flying red,
And mail-coats stiff with silver thread:
But day by day her hero still
Grows Frithiof like, weave how she will;
And as his form 'mid th' armed host rushes,-
Though deep, yet joyful, are her blushes!
And Frithiof, where his wanderings be,
Carves I and F i' th' tall birch-tree;
The runes right gladly grow united,
Their young hearts like by one flame lighted.
Stands Day on heaven's arch,- throne so fair! -
King of the world, with golden hair,
Waking the tread of life and men,-
Each thinks but of the other then!
-
-
Stands Night on heaven's arch,-throne so fair!
World's mother with her dark-hued hair,
While stars tread soft, all hushed 'mong men,-
Each dreams but of the other then!
"Thou Earth! each spring through all thy bowers
Thy green locks jeweling thick with flowers,—
Thy choicest give! fair weaving them,
My Frithiof shall the garland gem. "
"Thou Sea! in whose deep gloomy hall
Shine thousand pearls, - hear Love's loud call!
Thy fairest give me, to bedeck
That whiter pearl, my Ing'borg's neck! "


## p. 14570 (#136) ##########################################

14570
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
"O crown of Oden's royal throne,
Eye of the world, bright golden Sun!
Wert thou but mine, should Frithiof wield
Thy shining disk, his shining shield. "
"O lamp of great All-father's dome,
Thou Moon, whose beams so pale-clear roam!
Wert thou but mine, should Ing'borg wear
Thy crescent-orb among her hair. "
Then Hilding spoke:-"From this love-play
Turn, foster-son, thy mind away:
Had wisdom ruled, thou ne'er hadst sought her,-
'The maid,' Fate cries, 'is Bele's daughter! '
"To Oden, in his starlit sky,
Ascends her titled ancestry;
But Thorsten's son art thou: give way!
For like thrives best with like,' they say. "
But Frithiof smiling said:- "Down fly
To death's dark vale my ancestry:
Yon forest's king late slew I; pride
Of high birth heired I with his hide.
"The free-born man yields not; for still
His arm wins worlds where'er it will:
Fortune can mend as well as mar,
Hope's ornaments right kingly are!
-
"What is high birth for force? Yes! Thor,
Its sire, in Thrudvang's fort gives law:
Not birth, but worth, he weighs above;
The sword pleads strongly for its love!
"Yes! I will fight for my young bride,
Though e'en the thundering god defied.
Rest thee, my lily, glad at heart;
Woe him whose rash hand would us part! "


## p. 14571 (#137) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
FRITHIOF GOES INTO BANISHMENT
[Frithiof, persistently refused Ingeborg's hand, wishes her to fly with
him, but she refuses. He goes to the Orkney Islands to fetch tribute to her
brothers in order to win their favor; but on returning finds that she has
been forced into marriage with another suitor, King Ring, and has gone with
him to his country. Quarreling with the brothers again, he is forced to go
into exile. ]
Η
Is ship's deck slight,
I' th' summer night,
Bore th' hero grieving.
Like waves high heaving,
Now rage now woe
Thro' his bosom flow;
Smoke still ascended,
The fire not ended.
"Thou free broad Sea!
Unknown to thee
Are despot's glances
And tyrant's fancies.
Where freemen swing
Is he thy king
Who never shivers,
Howe'er high quivers,
With rage oppressed,
Thy froth-white breast!
Thy plains, blue-spreading,
Glad chiefs are treading;
Like ploughs thereon
Their keels drive on;
And blood-rain patters
In shade th' oak scatters,
But steel-bright there.
The corn-seeds glare!
Those plains so hoary
Bear crops of glory,
Rich crops of gold:
Thou billow bold
Befriend me! Never
I'll from thee sever!
14571
My father's mound
Dull stands, fast-bound,


## p. 14572 (#138) ##########################################

14572
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
And selfsame surges
Chant changeless dirges;
But blue shall mine
Through foam-flowers shine,
'Mid tempests swimming,
And storms thick dimming,
And draw yet mo
Down, down, below. —
My life-home given,
Thou shalt, far-driven!
My barrow be,
Thou free broad Sea! "
Day's orb now shined
Hill-tops behind;
Fresh breezes bounded
From shore, and sounded
Each wave to dance
In morning's glance.
Where th' high surge leapeth
Ellida sweepeth,
Glad stretched her wings.
But Frithiof sings:-
"Heimskringla's forehead,
Thou lofty North!
Away I'm hurried
From this thine earth.
My race from thee goes,
I boasting tell;
Now, nurse of heroes
Farewell! Farewell!
"Farewell, high-gleaming
Valhalla's throne,
Night's eye, bright-beaming
Midsummer's sun!
Sky! where, as in hero's
Soul, pure depths dwell,
And thronging star-rows,-
Farewell! Farewell!
"Farewell, ye mountains,
Seats glory for;
Ye tablet fountains
For mighty Thor!


## p. 14573 (#139) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNER
Ye lakes and highlands
I left so sel',
Ye rocks and islands,
Farewell! Farewell!
«Farewell, cairns dreaming
By wave of blue,
Where, snow-white gleaming,
Limes flower-dust strew!
But Saga spieth
And doometh well
-
I' the earth what lieth; -
Farewell! Farewell!
"Farewell, ye bowers,
Fresh houses green,
Where youth plucked flowers
By murm'ring stream;
Ye friends of childhood
Who meant me well,
Ye're yet remembered; —
Farewell! Farewell!
-
"My love insulted,
My palace brent,
My honor tarnished,
In exile sent,—
From land in sadness
To th' sea we appeal;
But Life's young gladness,
Farewell! Farewell!
"
14573
THE VIKING CODE
[Frithiof having set sail, draws up a code of conduct and honor for himself
and his party; and after a career of successful sea-roving, resolves to
revisit his native land. ]
F
AR and wide, like the falcon that hunts through the sky, flew he
now o'er the desolate sea;
And his Vikinga Code, for his champions on board, wrote he well:
wilt thou hear what it be?
"On thy ship pitch no tent; in no house shalt thou sleep: in the hall
who our friends ever knew?


## p. 14574 (#140) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
·
14574
On his shield sleeps the Viking, his sword in his hand, and for tent
has yon heaven the blue.
"With a short-shafted hammer fights conquering Thor; Frey's own
sword but an ell long is made:
That's enough. Hast thou courage? Strike close to thy foe: not too
short for thee then is thy blade!
"When the storm roars on high, up aloft with the sail; ah! how
pleasant's the sea in its wrath!
Let it blow, let it blow! He's a coward that furls; rather founder
than furl in thy path.
"On the shore, not on board, mayst thou toy with a maid: Freja's
self would prove false to thy love;
For the dimple deceives on her cheek, and her tresses would net-like
entrap thee above!
"Wine is Valfather's drink,- a carouse thou mayst have; but yet
steady and upright appear:
He who staggers on shore may stand up, but will soon down to
sleep-giving Ran stagger here.
"Sails the merchant ship forth, thou his bark mayst protect, if due
tribute his weak hand has told:
On thy wave art thou king; he's a slave to his pelf, and thy steel is
as good as his gold!
"With the dice and the lot shall the booty be shared; and complain
not, however it goes:
But the sea-king himself throws no dice on the deck,- only glory he
seeks from his foes.
"Heaves a Viking in sight,—then come boarding and strife, and hot
work is it under the shield;
But from us art thou banished-forget not the doom-if a step or a
foot thou shalt yield!
'Tis enough, shouldst thou conquer! Who prays thee for peace has
no sword, and cannot be thy foe:
Prayer is Valhalla's child, hear the pale Virgin's voice; yes! a
scoundrel is he who says no!
"Viking gains are deep wounds, and right well they adorn if they
stand on the brow or the breast.
Let them bleed! Twice twelve hours first must circle ere binds
them, who Vikinga comrade would rest! "


## p. 14575 (#141) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
14575
Thus his laws carved he out, and fresh exploits each day and fresh
fame to strange coast-lands he brought;
And his like found he none on the blue-rolling sea, and his cham-
pions right willing they fought.
But himself sat all darkly, with rudder in hand, and looked down on
the slow-rocking spray;-
"Deep thou art! Peace perchance in those depths still may bloom,
but above here all peace dies away.
"Is the White God aged? Let him take his good sword,-I will
fall should it so be decreed:
But he sits in yon sky, gloomy thoughts sending down; ne'er my
soul from their sadness is freed! "
Yet when battle is near, like the fresh eagle flying, his spirit fierce
soars with delight;
Loudly thunders his voice, and with clear brow he stands, like the
lightener still foremost in fight.
Thus from vict'ry to vict'ry he ceaselessly swam, on that wide-
foaming grave all secure;
And fresh islands he saw, and fresh bays in the south, till fair winds
on to Greek-Land allure.
When its groves he beheld, in the green tide reflected, its temples
in ruin bent low,-
Freja knows what he thought, and the scald; and if e'er thou hast
known how to love-thou wilt know!
"Here our dwelling had been! Here's the isle, here's the land: of
this temple my sire oft would tell;
Hither 'twas, hither 'twas, I invited my maid; -ah! she, cruel, the
North loved too well!
"Mong these happy green vales dwells not peace? and remembrance,
ah! haunts she not columns so fair?
Like the whisp'rings of lovers soft murmur those springs, and with
bridal songs birds fill the air.
"Where is Ingeborg now? Is so soon all forgot, for a chief with-
ered, gray-haired, and old?
I, I cannot forget! Gladly gave I my life, yet once more that dear
form to behold!
-
"And three years have gone by since my own land I saw, kingly hall
of fair Saga the Queen!


## p. 14576 (#142) ##########################################

14576
ESAIAS TEGNER
Rise there yet so majestic those mountains to heaven? keeps my
forefathers' dale its bright green?
"On the cairn where my father lies buried, a lime-tree I planted,—
ah! blooms it there now?
Who its tender shoot guards? Give thy moisture, O earth! and thy
dews, O thou heaven, give thou!
"Yet why linger I here, on the wave of the stranger? -Is tribute, is
blood, then my goal?
I have glory sufficient; and beggarly gold and its brightness, deep
scorneth my soul.
"There's the flag on the mast; to the Northland it points, and the
North holds the country I love:
Back to northward I'll steer, and will follow the course of the
breezes fresh-blowing above! "
[In the thirteenth canto, Frithiof in a defiant mood enters the temple of
Balder, seizes the arm-ring, pulls down the image of Balder, and involves the
whole temple in ruin, it being consumed in a blaze of unquenchable fire.
Returning from the sea, Frithiof in disguise visits the court of King Ring,
and sees Ingeborg, who recognizes him through his disguise. King Ring also
divines his secret, but magnanimously allows him to depart in peace.
Frithiof rebuilds the temple in a spirit of sincere repentance.
King Ring has died, and Ingeborg is free.
The last canto is entitled 'The Reconciliation,' and is full of noble senti-
Frithiof has made atonement, resumes his place in the kingdom, and
is united to Ingeborg. ]
ment.
THE RECONCILIATION
F"
INISHED great Balder's temple stood!
Round it no palisade of wood
Ran now as erst:
A railing stronger, fairer than the first,
And all of hammered iron,-each bar
Gold-tipped and regular,-
Walls Balder's sacred house. Like some long line
Of steel-clad champions, whose bright war-spears shine
And golden helms afar, so stood
This glittering guard within the holy wood!
Proud stood it there on mountain steep, its lofty brow
Reflected calmly on the sea's bright-flowing wave.
But round about, some girdle like of beauteous flowers,


## p. 14577 (#143) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
14577
Went Balder's dale, with all its groves' soft-murmured sighs,
And all its birds' sweet twittered songs,- the home of peace.
Farthest within, the god's high altar rested,
Hewn all of one sole block
From Northern marble rock;
And round thereon its scroll the serpent twisted,
With solemn rune
Each fold thick strewn,
Whose words from Havamal and Vala taken
Deep thoughts in every human bosom waken,—
While in the wall above
A niche was seen with stars of gold
On dark-blue ground; and there, behold!
All mild and gentle as the silver moon
Sitting heaven's blue aboon,
The silver image stands of Balder, God of Love! —
So seemed the sanctuary. — Forth in pairs now tread
Twelve temple virgins; vests of silver thread
Adorn each slender form, and roses red
O'er ev'ry cheek soft graces shed,
And spread
O'er ev'ry innocent heart a fragrant fair rose-bed. -
Before the White God's image, and around
The late-blessed altar, dancing, light they bound
As spring winds leap where rippling fount waves sound,
As woodland elves that skip along the ground,
Skimming the high-grown grass
Which morning's dew
Still hangs with sparkling gems of every hue;-
Ah! how those jewels tremble as the fairies pass!
And while the dance went round, a holy song they sung
Of Balder, that mild god, and how he was beloved
By every creature, till he fell by Höder's dart,
And earth and ocean wide, and heaven itself, sore wept!
How pure, how tender that song it pealeth!
Sure never sprang
Such tuneful clang
From mortal breast! No, - heaven revealeth
Some tone from Breidablick, from out the gods' own hall,
All soft as lonely maiden's thoughts on him she loves,
What time the quail calls deeply 'mid the peace of night;
The North's tall birches bathed i' th' moon's pale-quivering sheen.
XXV-912


## p. 14578 (#144) ##########################################

14578
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
And Frithiof, leaning on his sword, whose glance
Shines far around, stood lost as in a trance,
And charmed and silent gazed upon the dance! —
Thereat his childhood's memories, how they throng
Before his raptured eye! -A jocund train, and long,
And innocent and glad and true,
With eyes like heaven's own blue,
And heads rich circled by bright-golden tresses,-
His former youth-friend each with some sign addresses;
Then all his Viking life,
With scenes of murderous strife
And bold adventures rife,
Like some dark bloody shadow sinketh
Fast down to night. -Ah! glad he drinketh
Forgetfulness's sweet cup, and thinketh,
"Repose at last those sea-king exploits have,-
I stand a flower-crowned Bauta-Stone upon their grave! "
"Son Frithiof, welcome! Yes, I've long expected
That thou shouldst come; — for force, 'tis true, still wanders
Round land and sea afar, wild Berserk like
That pale with rage the shield's hard border biteth;
But yet at last it home returns again,
Outwearied and all calm. -The strong-armed Thor
Full oft 'gainst giant Jotunheim did wend;
But spite his belt celestial, spite his gauntlets,
Utgårda-Loke still his throne retains;-
Evil, itself a force, to force yields never!
Goodness, not joined with strength, must child's-play be;-
On Ägir's bosom so, the sun shines prettily;
But fickle as the flood the graspless splendor see!
As sink or rise the billows, thus all changeably
The fairy brightness flitteth, moving endlessly.
And force, from goodness severed, surely dies;
Self-eating, self-consumed, as sword that lies
In some damp cairn, black rust corrodes the prize:
Yes! Life's debauch fierce strength's mad riot is!
But ah! Oblivion's heron flutters still
O'er goblet-brim that traitorous sweet draughts fill,
And deep's the wakened drunkard's shame for deeds of ill!
"King Helge is no more! "—
"King Helge, he," said Frithiof,- "when, where, how? »
"Thyself know'st well that whilst thou here hast builded
This temple to the god, King Helge marched


## p. 14579 (#145) ##########################################

ESAIAS TEGNÉR
14579
On painful foray 'mong the heathen Fins,
Scaling each mountain wall. In Finland's borders,
Raised on a barren time-worn peak, there stood
An ancient temple consecrate to Jumala:
Abandoned and fast-shut, for many ages
This desolate fane had been, its every rite
Long since forgotten; but above the portal
An old and monstrous idol of the god
Stood, frail-supported, trembling to its fall.
This temple none dared enter, scarce approach;
For down from sire to son an eld tradition
Went dimly warning, that whoever first
The temple visited should Jumala view!
This Helge heard, and in his blind fierce rage,
The pathless wilds trod 'gainst this deity
So hated from of old, all bent on razing
The temple's heathen walls. But when he'd marched
Up where the ruin threatened, lo! all fast
The massy moss-grown door was closed; and, covered
With thick brown rust, the key still sat within it.
Grim Helge then, the door-posts griping hard,
With rude uncivil strain the moldering pillars
Fierce shook, and straightway with tremendous crash
The sculptured image fell, burying beneath it
Valhalla's impious son; and so dread Jumala
His eyes behold. - A messenger in haste
These tidings brought ere yet last night was ended.
-
"Now, only Halfdan sits on Bele's chair.
Thy hand, brave Frithiof, offer him! Revenge
And passion sacrifice to heaven's high gods:
This Balder's shrine demandeth;-I demand, too,
As Balder's highest priest, in token meet
That peace's gentle chief thou hast not mocked
With vain professions and an empty homage. -
Decide, my son! -shall Balder's peace be broken?
If so, in vain thou'st built this fane, the token
Of mild forgiveness, and in vain aged priest hath spoken! "
Over the copper threshold Halfdan now,
With pallid brow
And fearful fitful glance, advanceth slow
Tow'rds yonder tow'ring ever-dreaded foe,
And, silent, at a distance stands.
Then Frithiof, with quick hands,


## p. 14580 (#146) ##########################################

14580
ESAIAS TEGNÉR
The corslet-hater, Angurvadel, from his thigh
Unbuckleth, and his bright shield's golden round
Leaning 'gainst the altar, thus draws nigh;
While his cowed enemy
He thus accosts, with pleasant dignity:-
"Most noble in this strife will he be found
Who first his right hand good
Offers in pledge of peaceful brotherhood! "
Then Halfdan, deeply blushing, doffs with haste
His iron gauntlet, and—with hearty grasp embraced-
Each long, long severed hand
Its friend-foe hails, steadfast as mountain-bases stand!
That aged and awful priest then glad removeth
The curse that rested on the varg I veum,
Frithiof the outlaw; and as the last deep accents
Of reconcilement and of blessing sounded—
Lo! Ing'borg sudden enters, rich adorned
With bridal ornaments, and all enrobed
In gorgeous ermine, and by bright-eyed maidens.
Slow followed, as on heaven's broad canopy
Attending star-trains guard the regent moon!
But the young bride's fair eyes,
Those two blue skies,
Fill quick with tears,
And to her brother's heart she trembling sinketh;-
He, with his sister's fears
Deep-moved, her hand all tenderly in Frithiof's linketh,
His burden soft transferring to that hero's breast,
Its long-tried faith fit place for Ing'borg's rest.
Then, to her heart's first, best beloved, her childhood's friend,
In nuptial band
She gives her lily hand,
As before pardoning Balder's altar both low bend!


## p. 14580 (#147) ##########################################



## p. 14580 (#148) ##########################################


3801
ALFRED TENNYSON.


## p. 14580 (#149) ##########################################



## p. 14580 (#150) ##########################################



## p. 14581 (#151) ##########################################

14581
ALFRED TENNYSON
(1809-1892)
BY HENRY VAN DYKE
LFRED TENNYSON, the most representative English poet of the
nineteenth century, was born at Somersby, in Lincolnshire,
on August 6th, 1809. His boyhood was passed in his father's
country rectory, in an atmosphere that was full of poetry and music;
and at a very early age he began to try his wings in verse. Some
of his youthful efforts were published in partnership with his elder
brother Charles, in 1826, in a volume entitled 'Poems by Two Broth-
ers. ' Two years later he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, and
became a member of an intimate society called "The Apostles," which
included some of the most brilliant young men in England. Among
them was Arthur Henry Hallam, the closest friend of Tennyson. In
1829 he won the chancellor's medal with his poem called Timbuc-
too'; and in the following year he published 'Poems, Chiefly Lyr-
ical,' a slender volume of new and delicate melodies. He left college
without taking his degree, soon after his father's death in 1831, and
gave himself to a poet's life with a clear resolution which never
wavered for sixty years.
His volume of poems published in 1832 marked a distinct growth
in strength and skill. It was but a tiny book; but there was a quality
in it which more than balanced the lack of quantity. 'The Lady of
Shalott,' 'Enone,' 'The Lotos Eaters,' 'The Palace of Art,' and 'A
Dream of Fair Women,' revealed the presence of a true dreamer of
dreams, gifted with the magic which translates visions into music.
'The Miller's Daughter,' 'The May Queen,' and 'New Year's Eve,'
showed the touch of one who felt the charm of English rural scenery
and common life with a sentiment so fresh and pure and deep that
he might soon be able to lay his hand upon the very heart of the
people.
But before this highest potency of the poet's gift could come
to Tennyson, there was need of a baptism of conflict and sorrow, to
purify him from the mere love of art for art's sake, to save him from
sinking into an over-dainty weaver of exquisite verse, and to con-
secrate his genius to the severe and noble service of humanity and
truth. This liberating and uplifting experience was enfolded in the


## p. 14582 (#152) ##########################################

14582
ALFRED TENNYSON
profound grief which fell upon him in Arthur Hallam's sudden death
at Vienna, in 1833. How deeply this irretrievable loss shook the
poet's heart, how closely and how strenuously it forced him to face
the mystery and the meaning of life in lonely spiritual wrestling,
was fully disclosed, after seventeen years, in the famous elegy, 'In
Memoriam. ' But the traces of the conflict and some of its fine results
were seen even earlier, in the two volumes of 'Poems' which appeared
in 1842, as the fruitage of a decade of silence. Ulysses,' 'Morte
d'Arthur,' 'St. Simeon Stylites,' 'Dora,' 'Locksley Hall,' 'A Vision of
Sin,' The Two Voices,' and that immortal lyric, Break, Break,
Break,' were not the work of
<
"An idle singer of an empty day. "
A new soul had entered into his poetry. His Muse had been born
again, from above. He took his place with the master-minstrels who
sing with a full voice out of a full heart, not for a coterie, but for
the age and for the race.
It was the recognition that Tennyson really belonged to this
higher class of poets,— a recognition which at first was confined to a
clear-sighted circle, but spread by degrees to the wider reading pub-
lic, that prepared an expectant audience for his first long poem,
'The Princess,' which appeared in 1847. The subject was the eternal
woman question, treated in the form of an epic, half heroic and half
humorous: the story of a king's daughter who sought to emancipate,
and even to separate, her sex from man, by founding a wonderful
woman's college; but was conquered at last (or at least modified), by
the love of an amorous, chivalrous, dreamy prince, who wooed and
married her. The blank verse in which the tale is told has great
beauty, though it is often too ornate; the conclusion of the poem is
a superb and sonorous tribute to the honor of "das ewig weibliche":
but the little interludes of song which are scattered through the epic
shine as the chief jewels in a setting which is not all of pure gold.
In 1850 the long-delayed and nobly labored elegy on the death of
Hallam was given to the world. It is hardly too much to say that
"In Memoriam' stands out, in present vision, as the most illustrious
poem of the century. Certainly it has been the most frequently
translated, the most widely quoted, and the most deeply loved. It is
far more than a splendid monument to the memory of a friend. It
is an utterance of the imperishable hopes and aspirations of the
human soul passing through the valley of the shadow of death. It is
a unique group of lyrics, finished each one with an exquisite artist's
care, which is only surpassed by the intense and steady passion which
fuses them into a single poem. It is the English classic on the love
of immortality and the immortality of love.
―


## p. 14583 (#153) ##########################################

ALFRED TENNYSON
14583
In the same year with the appearance of this poem happened the
two most important events of Tennyson's career. He was married in
June to Miss Emily Sellwood, a lady of rare and beautiful endow-
ments, who proved herself, through a long life of unselfish devotion,
the true partner of a poet's existence. And he was appointed in
November to succeed Wordsworth as poet laureate.
His first official poem was the stately 'Ode on the Death of the
'Duke of Wellington,' in 1852. The majestic march of the verse, its
freedom, its organ-toned music, its patriotic vigor, and the lofty
solemnity with which it closes, give it a higher place than can be
claimed for any other poetical production of an English laureate for
a public occasion. The Charge of the Light Brigade,' written in
1854, was a trumpet-note that rang through England and echoed
around the world.
'Maud' was published in 1855. It is a lyrical monodrama, in
which the hero, a sensitive and morbid man, with a hereditary tend-
ency to madness, tells the story of his redemption from misanthropy
and despair by the power of a pure love, unhappy but victorious.
The variety of the metrical forms in this poem, the passionate ten-
derness of the love songs, the beautiful truth of the descriptive pass-
ages, and the intense personality of its spirit, give it a singular
charm, which is felt most deeply perhaps by those who are young
and in love. Tennyson himself said to me, "I think Maud' is one
of my most original poems. "
<
(
In 1859 began the publication of the epical sequence called 'Idylls
of the King'; the largest, and in some respects the most important,
of the works of Tennyson. The first group contained 'Enid,' 'Vivien,'
'Elaine,' and 'Guinevere. ' The second group appeared in 1870, and
consisted of The Coming of Arthur,' The Holy Grail,' 'Pelleas and
Ettarre,' and 'The Passing of Arthur. ' In 1872 Gareth and Lynette'
and 'The Last Tournament' were published; and in 1885 Balin and
Balan' was printed in the volume entitled 'Tiresias and Other Poems. '
The division of 'Enid' into two parts - The Marriage of Geraint'
and 'Geraint and Enid' - makes the epic as it now stands consist
of twelve idylls. Each of these idylls clothes an ancient legend from
the history of King Arthur of Britain, in the richest and most har-
monious of modern blank verse. They are so far independent that
any one of them might stand alone as a complete poem. But there
is a connecting thread running through them all in the threefold
love-story of Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot, though the separate
pearls often hide the string. The underlying motive of the whole.
series is to shadow forth the war of Sense against the Soul. The
idylls are to be interpreted therefore as movements in a symphony,
the theme of which is the rightful royalty of man's spiritual nature,


## p. 14584 (#154) ##########################################

14584
ALFRED TENNYSON
seeking to establish itself in a settled reign of law, and constantly
opposed by the disorderly and disintegrating elements of humanity.
In The Coming of Arthur' it is doubt that threatens the kingdom;
in 'Gareth and Lynette' the conflict is with ambition; in 'The Mar-
riage of Geraint,' with pride; in 'Geraint and Enid,' with jealousy;
in 'Balin and Balan,' with suspicion; in 'Merlin and Vivien,' with
lust; in 'The Holy Grail,' with superstition; until at last the poison
of unlawful love has crept through all the court, and Arthur's Round
Table is dissolved in ruin,- but not without a vision of peace for
the king who has kept his soul unstained, and a dim promise of new
hope for some future age, when he shall return to bloodless victory.
Tennyson has not allowed the ethical purpose of these poems to
confuse their interest or bedim their beauty. They are not in any
sense an allegory. The tales of love and knight-errantry, of tourna-
ment and battle and quest, are vividly told in the true romantic spirit,
lighting up the olden story with the thoughts and feelings of to-day.
There is perhaps a touch of over-elaborateness in the style; but after
all the figures stand out to the full as distinctly as they ought to do
in such a large tapestry. In the finer idylls, like Guinevere' and
'The Passing of Arthur,' the verse moves with a grandeur and dig-
nity, a broad, measured, fluent harmony, unrivaled in England since
the days when Milton's organ voice was stilled.
The rest of Tennyson's poetical work includes his dramas,—
'Queen Mary,' 'Harold,' 'Becket,' The Cup and the Falcon,' and
a few others, and several volumes of miscellaneous poems: Enoch
Arden' (1864), 'The Lover's Tale' (1879), 'Ballads' (1880), 'Tiresias'
(1885), Locksley Hall Sixty Years After' (1886), 'Demeter' (1889), and
"The Death of Enone,' published posthumously in 1892. The great
age to which his life was prolonged, the unswerving fidelity with
which he devoted himself to the sole pursuit of his chosen art, the
freshness of spirit which made him delight in labor to the very last,
and the fine versatility of mind with which he turned from one field
of production to another,- brought it to pass that both in amount
and in variety of work, Tennyson stands in the front rank of English
poets.
I can think of but two-Shakespeare and Robert Browning —
who produced more.
In 1883 a title of nobility was offered to Tennyson through Mr.
Gladstone. This honor, which he had declined at least once before,
he now accepted; and in January 1884 he was admitted (we can
hardly say elevated) to the peerage,- taking his title, Baron of Ald-
worth and Farringford, from his two country houses, in Sussex and in
the Isle of Wight.
It would be difficult, of course, to characterize the style and esti-
mate the value of such a varied and fertile poet in a brief essay.


## p. 14585 (#155) ##########################################

ALFRED TENNYSON
14585
But there are certain qualities in the poetry of Tennyson which are
unmistakable and vital.
He
1. His diction is singularly lucid, smooth, and melodious.
avoids sharp and strident effects. Not only in his choice of metres,
but also in his choice of words and cadences, we feel a musical
influence controlling his verse. Sometimes this results in a loss of
force or definiteness. But it makes his poetry, whether in the long
swinging lines of 'Locksley Hall,' or in the brief simple measures of
the shorter songs, eminently readable.