A Key to Lord Tennyson's 'In Memoriam' Part 6

He imagines Urania, the heavenly Muse, to reprove him for venturing on sacred ground, and commenting on religious themes; as she would have him confine his steps to his own Parna.s.sus, and there earn the laurel crown.

But his own tragic Muse, Melpomene, replies with the apology, that though unworthy to speak of holy mysteries, yet with his earthly song he had striven to soothe his own aching heart, and render a due tribute to human love; and inasmuch as the comfort he had drawn was "clasp'd in truth reveal'd," had its foundation in the Gospel: he daringly

"loiter'd in the Master's field, And darken'd sanct.i.ties with song."

Many readers of _In Memoriam_ will have thanked its author for these trespa.s.ses upon the Holy Land, feeling indeed there was no profane intrusion.

Some will regret that he has changed the original line, "and dear as sacramental wine," into "and dear to me as sacred wine:" the purpose, one supposes, was that the reader should see that he spoke only for himself--"to me"--the meaning is unchanged, but the sound is rather flat.

x.x.xVIII.

The sadness of his heart has fully returned, and the journey of life is dull and weary. The skies above and the prospect before him are no longer what they used to be, when Hallam was by. "The blowing season," when _plants are blossoming_: the "herald melodies of spring," when the birds proclaim that winter is past, give him no joy; but in his own songs he finds a "gleam of solace;" and if after death there be any consciousness retained of what has been left upon earth,

"Then are these songs I sing of thee Not all ungrateful to thine ear."

x.x.xIX.

This Poem has been recently introduced, as already stated (see P. ii.).

The Yew tree does really blossom, and form fruit and seed like other trees, though we may not notice it.

The Poet now says, that his "random stroke" on the tree brings off

"Fruitful cloud and living smoke;"

Also that at the proper season

"Thy gloom is kindled at the tips."

The fact is, that the flower is bright yellow in colour, but very minute; and when the tree is shaken, the pollen comes off like dust, and then the tree seems to resume its old gloom.

So the spirit of the Poet may brighten for a moment, and then return to its accustomed melancholy.

XL.

He wishes "the widow'd hour" when he lost his friend, could be forgotten, or rather recalled like an occasion when the bride leaves her first home for "other realms of love." There are tears then, but April tears--rain and sunshine mixed; and as the bride's future office may be to rear and teach another generation--uniting grandparents with grand-children--so he has no doubt that to Hallam

"is given A life that bears immortal fruit In such great offices as suit The full-grown energies of heaven."

But then comes this difference. The bride will return in course of time with her baby, and all at her old home will be happier for her absence--whereas

"thou and I have shaken hands, Till growing winters lay me low; My paths are in the fields I know, But thine in undiscover'd lands."

XLI.

Whilst together upon earth they could advance in company, though Hallam's spirit and intellect were ever soaring upwards. Now, the links which united them are lost, and he can no longer partake in his friend's transformations. So, (folly though it be,) he wishes that, by an effort of will, he could

"leap the grades of life and light, And flash at once, my friend, to thee."

See P. xcv., 9.

For, though he has no vague dread of death and "the gulfs beneath," yet the chilling thought comes over him, that in death he may not be able to overtake his friend, but evermore remain "a life behind" him,

"Through all the secular to be"--

all future ages: and that so he shall be his mate no more, which is his great trouble.

"The howlings of forgotten fields"

is probably a cla.s.sical allusion to those "fields" of mystic horror, over which the spirits of the departed were supposed to range, uttering wild shrieks and cries. Has Dante no such allusion?[26]

This Poem intimates the idea of progress and advancement after death.

XLII.

He reproaches himself for these fancies; for inasmuch as it was only unity of place which gave them the semblance of equality here--Hallam being always really ahead--why may not "Place retain us still,"[27] when I too am dead, and can be trained and taught anew by this "lord of large experience?"

"And what delights can equal those That stir the spirit's inner deeps, When one that loves but knows not, reaps A truth from one that loves and knows?"

There are no pleasures so sweet, as the imbibings of instruction from the lips of those who are both superior and dear to us.

It is evident that Hallam's translation in death, had exalted his friend's estimation of him whilst living, for see the Poet's note at the end of Poem xcvii.

XLIII.

If, in the intermediate state, we find that

"Sleep and death be truly one"--

as St. Paul himself might lead us to believe--

"And every spirit's folded bloom"

--the slumbering soul being like a flower which closes at night--reposed, unconscious of the pa.s.sage of time, but with silent traces of the past marked upon it;[28] then the lives of all, from the beginning of time, would contain in their shut-up state a record of all that had ever happened;

"And love will last as pure and whole, As when he loved me here in Time, And at the spiritual prime Rewaken with the dawning soul."

At the resurrection, the old affection will revive.

XLIV.

How fare the happy dead? Here man continuously grows, but he forgets what happened