TEKNt'Si)]Sr AYLMER’S FIELD WITH INTRODUCTION .AND NOTES BY W. T. WEBB M.A rnOfli^SOK OK nNatlSH LITEIIATUIIIS, PRI BIDEKCY §0LX.L(;E, g^LOUTTA S%i 3lumud Math 3)atta I4C, KALI KUMAR BANERITE LANE TALA, CALCUTTA-2. |Pan%ott MAOlwgLLAN AND CO., LmiTH® VoKE : TETE MA€llILtiAE .OOMP^NT |899 <dU rig}^ Firat Kditlon ISOl. Hcpruited 1890, 1899. oMjsqOw : T^axi^KD at tibk vuiv^i^bitv il*BWpa , 1 ^ maci^boa® PREFATORY NOTE. ^Fok part of the General Introduction to this volume I fim indebted to my colleaigue, Mr. F. J. Rowe ; whom, together with Mr. K. Deighton, I wisl^ tiP thank for several valuable suggestions cmbodietkin the Notes. The^otes enclosed in brackets and signed H. T, have been sent by the Hon. Hallam Tenny%Sn, to whom the proofs of this edition have been submitted. W. T. W. COl^TENTS. iNTRODfTCPION TO AYLMBB’S ‘PiBU?, - Ayi.mbr’9 Pielb> . . . • Notes* . • • • PAOB ix 1 GENEKAL INTRODUCTION. J ROWE, M am) W T WEBB, M A, # PROrFSSORS OP ENlIieil HXmAflKP ^KfSllUN \ lOLirtF, CAIOLTTA ^Biofirriphy Ttnny^ii tho iniii 1 Hw sonsc t f T aw sh )wi) m hw ron- Cci>ti in of (a) Nature (/) l’rc«doin^(<) I ovo , ( 0 Seem i v 2 Hw lu bilHy of th ugh^ ind Idh rtligiou 3 Ilia minpluity of omdloti II Tennyson tho Poet 1 Ah Bopnsontitivo <i hib A^t 2 As Artist fa) His obstrva tioii (t) His Bchclifl’shi]) , (c) Hi's xproHsivoness Ills nunilos, (r) Kis ffk'oidancc of the omnioi||>1uc (jT) His repetilUu md issoiiance (j^) IHh harmony of ihythm , (h) His mciodj of di tion Ilis dramatic \^oiks Con elusion ^ Alfred, Lord Tennyson, was boin on August Gth, mograpj^ 1809, at Someisby, a village in Linc<jJiishire, of which hie father was lector The wolds suiiouiidin^his honp, the fen some miles away, with its “level waste” and “trenched waters,” and the sea on the Lincolnshire coast, with “league long lollers” and “table-shore,” are pictuied again and again in his poems When the was seven years old he was sent to the Loutha Grammar School, and retuining home after a few years tifere, was educated with his elder brother Charles by his father. Chafles and Alfred Tennyson, while yet youths, published in 1827 a small volume of p6e^ estitled JPoem by Two Brothers. In 1828 the two brothers enij^ed tf rinity Colleger Cambridge, where Alfred ^gained^fte tTniversitf Chancelftr’s gold X aBNERAL INTRODUCTION. medal for a poem' on Titiujudoo, and where he formed an intimate friendship with Arthur Henr^ !^^11am (son of the historisit), whoso memory he hsn immortalised in In Mmorum. Among, his other t Cambridge friends may be mentioned B. C. Trench (afterwards Archbishop ot Dublin), Monckton Mi^pes (afterwards Lord ^onghtunj, J. M. Kemble ^he Anglo-Saxon scholar), Merivale (the historian, after- wards Dean of Ely), Jame» Spedding, an4*W.* IL firoQ^eld. In 1830 T«nn^on« published ]ps Po^, chi(^y Lyrical, among which are bf be found some sixty pieces that are preserved ip the present issues of his works. Ill 1832 Poem h/ Alfied Tennyson appeared, and then, after ad interval of ten years, two^more volumes, also with the title Poem. TIis reppj^tion as a poet was now established, though his greatest works vjpre yet to come. Chid!* among these are The Princess (1847i), 1% MeUfbnam fl850), Mastd (1865), Idylls of the King (1860*1886), and^ Enoch Arden (1864)» In 1875 Tenny- nffi published hts first drama, Queen Mary, followed by ffarcii (1877), The Cvp (acted in 1881), The Prmise of Jlf(iy*(1882), The Falcon and Seeket (1884), i|md The Foresters (1892). On the death of Wordsvorth in 1860, Tennyson succeeded him as Poet Laureate, tn 1874 he was gaeetted Baron of Aldwortb and l^liMfingfotd, his two seats in Sussex and in the Isle of Ij^ght. He dtsd on October 6tb, 1892, and was Iferied in West* mhurter Abbey, near the ^rave of Browning. L Qf am mpdem l^glish poets Tennyson hat mo(t readers ; and tV bhlet elements of thS pafkerfhl charm whidi he dyer thp and fit all ^ hd^yident ^ tutm a hnef GKNBRAL INTRODUCTION. XI survey of the character of his xflihd as revealed in his works, and of the mattef and the form of his verse* At the basis of all Tennyson’s teaching, indeed bf all his work, is Tennyson the man. The mould of a poSt’s mind is the mould in which his thoughts and even his^ mpdcs of expression must run, and the works of a poet cftinot be fully understood unleM we understand the imet himself. h C!|{iepicuous among the main currents of thought ^^d feelipg that flow,,througl^ the body of his t^itings is hi% perception of*the movement of fisw throughout Iho worlds of sense and jf spirit : he recognises there- in a settled scheme of great purposes underlying a universal ord^ and gradually developing -td completion. • (a) Illustrawons^of this recognitioif df pervading Law may ])p found in his conception of Nature, and in his treatment of human action and of^fiatural scenery. Nature, which to Shelley was a spiritf of Lofts, and to Wordsworth a living and speaking presence of Thought, is to Tennyson a process of Law inclSding Imth. Even in tihe^idst of his mourning over the seeming wiSte involved in the early death of his friend, he can write in Irif Mmariam X cutsc not nature, no, nor death ; For nothing is that errs from law. In all the wtf^kings of Nature he traces the evolution of the great designs of OcA ; Than God, which ever ttvse an| loves» ^ pne God, one hbw, one eleyneniji ” had OQtytur^c^divM Cveet #Ucii tie mele Matftm mem tibown cobooptwjii (a) Natttte { GENERAL INTRODUCTION, i* Xll In The Higher Pantlietsm, a similar thought is found* • God is law, say the wise; 0 soul, and let us rejoice, For if He thunder by law, the tlfhnder is yet His voice? Froedom; (J) Allied to this faith that the universe is “ roll’d round by one fixt law*’ is the poet’s sympathy with disciplined order in the various spheres of human action. In his teaching on Ibcial anil political questions, lys ideal is a majestic order, a gradual and r^lar«de- velopiient, without rest indeed, but, above alv without baste. His ideal Freeifbm fis ^isober-suitefi ” ; it iS such a Freedom as has been evolved by t^e gradual* growth of English institutiofis, a Froedom wlych slowly bioodens down Fiomspfcccdont to pieccdent. He has small faith in sudden outbursts of revoli^ionary fervour ; ho thiflUs that the ** red fool fury of the Seine ” (alluding^o the excesses of the French revolutionaries), the “flashing heats” of the “frantic city,” retard man’s p^gresB towards real liberty : they “ but fire to blast the hopes of men.” If liberty is to bo a solid* and lasting possossioui, it must be gained by patient years of working and waiting, not by “ expecting all things in an hour”; for with him “raw Haste” is but “half- sister to Delay.” So also Tennyson’s love fqp his own country is iiegulated and philosophic: he Jias given us a few patriotic martial lyrics that *^ir the living blood “like a trumpet call}” as The Charge of the Light Brigade and The Bevmge^ but in the main his patriotism is founded on admiration for the grea? “storied past” of Englaxid4 ^ Though in jmuth ^ triumphs fn “ the Vision erf^be world^and all Ihe tfonder th^t would be,” GENERAL INl'RODUCTION. xiii yet neither in youth nor in age f*he himself without some distrust of the new democratic forces which may end in “working their ow^ doom”: — Step by step we gain’d a freedom known to Europe, known to all, ^tep by step we rose to greatness - thro’ the t^nguesters we may fall. Xc) A^ain, in his conception of the passion of Love, (OLovej and fn hi^^iortraiture of Womanhood^ the same sp^it of rgverenco ^nd solf-control ^animates Tennyson’s verse. JjOvc, 4n Tennyson, il a pure unselfish passion. Even tlf^ guilty fove of Lancelot^iand Guineveie is described from a S^^iritual standpoint, in its evil effects rather than in any seysuous detail. His hi^iest i(fcal of love i# found in the pur# passion of wedded* life: true love can exiit only under the sanction of Duty and of lieverence for womanhood and one’s li^her self; and such love is the source of man’s loftiest idells, and the inspiration of his noblest deeds. |!xamples of this treatment may be seen in l%e Miller's Daughter^ Enocj^ Ardeit, The Gardener's l)anghtei\ and Guineiferey and it ' underlies the moral lessons inculcated in The Pri/HiCess, (d) Lastly, Tennyson's appreciation of Order is illus-(<Q8oeiifiry trated in his treatment of natural scenery. It is true ttiat he sometimes gives us scenes of savage grandeur, as in the^ffonstrous ledges slope and spill Their thousand wreaths of di*tigliug water-smoke, but he oftener describes still Engbsh landscapes, the ^^hannta of ancient peace,** with plaited alleys^* and “ terrace' lawn,” “ lon^ grsii fields,” traclb of pasture sunny-warm,” jmd all the leered (jaiet of rufal h'fe. XIV ORKKRAL TNa’ROntJrTIOK 2 A second groat 'element of Tennyson’s character !S^o!u * noble tone. This is ‘present in every poem he has over written His verse* is informed with the veiy spirit of Honour^ of I>ut>, and of Reverence for all that IS pure and true This is the spirit that animates the famous passage in (Enone Self reverence, Siclf knowledge, self (ontiol, These three alone lead life to sovereign poujsr ^ Yet not for poiver (powe^ of lieiself Would come tinuil4‘d for), \jiit to live by-law, Acting the Uw we liv 1 1i>y without fear , And, because light is light, to follow ii^it Wue wisdom in the sdbin of coimoquonce. It IS illustiated on its negative side in^ The Palace oj A^t, It breathel^ \hrough his nobl% £Wf on the Death of ihf Dnh of JFdluuffmh, and it peivades and juspires his picture of King Aithur in the Idt/lU of the King Tennyson’s leligious faith is suflicienily indicated m his writings At^tho root of his poetry (as Mr. Stopford I^ooke hjt*) remarked) he *'the ever working immar^ enco of God iii man» the brotherhood of the human race^mnd its evolution into perfect love and righteous^ ness ; the continuance of each man's personal conscious^ ness in the life to be ; the vitality of the present^man alive and I^ature alive, and alive with the lift of Qod«” 3. Another main oharaoteiistic of Tennyiton is sim plicity. The emotions that he appeals are generally easy to understand and coAmon to all He avoids the subtle analysis of character, and the painting of complex motives or of the wild excess of passions The Maotd laws which tie so strongly^etpholds those primary sanction# upon whiA averagi so^Jty ft ftunded. ' GENERAL INTI^ODUCTION. xv A certain Puritan simplicity ancf a scholarly restraint pervade the mass of his work. * It is on these foithdations of Order, Nobility, aqd Simplicity that Tennyson’s character is built ► II. Turning now to the matter or substance of his /i. Tt^unyto poems, we note, first, that iho two chief factors of ‘ Tennyson's populaiity are tliat h ,9 is a representative English poet, and that ho is a consummate Artist. 1. In ,^ie great spheres of Immau thought — reli* ^ion, in ijaorals, in sKia\, life^—his poems reflect thehwAgo, ^omplox tendencies of his ago and his surroundings Not, it may bo, the most ad)Vanced idcan* not the latest B})eculat]6n, not the transient eontentions the hour ; but the broad ^results of culture am]^ experience upon t^te poet's English# contemporaries " The giound of Tennyson's claim to be considered a re^)resentativo of his age is seen in the lines of thought jgirsued in soma of those more important poems which deal tlio great problems and paramount interests of his times. The poems cover a period of fifty years, and must hi considered in the order of their publication. In Lochiley Mail, published in 1842, the speaker, lifter giving vent to his own tale of paaeion and regret, be- comes the mouthpiece of the young hopes and aspira- tiond of tke Liberalism of the early Victorian era, while iu LoMm Moil Siaiy Years After, tthe doubts and distrust Alt by the Conservatism of our own times utterance? The Prkeess deals with a^uesIM ititemt to society, and one which has years risen into more conspici|c>u8 import- ance, changil^ positi^ and proper s^iere of Woman. In efUri the j^oet desenbes and XVi GENERAL INTRODUCTION. r condemns a spnit ot epstlieticSbm who<?e sole relii^ion is the worship of Bejuty ‘and Knowledge for thoir own sakes, and which igiioie^ human le&ponsibihty and olbligations to one’s follow men: while in, St. Stnuon Stt/litL6, the poet equally condemns the ( vils of a sel^ centred religious asceticism which despises the active duties of daily life ^ The Vision of Sin is a ])icturo* of the peiveision of natuio and of the final despair whi«h attend the puisuit of sensual pleasure. Tht i^bo Voices illustiates the introspective se}f analysis with whfth the age discusses the fundamental problem of, eMst- ence, finding all solutions \ain exetpt thc^e dictateef by the simplest voices of the conscience •and the heart. The poet’s great woik^ In Mf^noinwiy is the history of a tinder human soul ^ontiontod with tl^ stern, relentless order of the Universe and tljp seem- ing waste and cruelty of Death. The poem traces the pibgioss of sorrow fiom the Valley of Death, over-shadowed by the darkness of unspeakable loss, J^rough ^the regions of philosophic doubt and medita- tion to the serene heights of resignation and •hope, where Faith and LoVe tan triumidi over Death in the confident lioire of a liie beyond, and over Doubt by the realization Thai all, as in some piece of ait, 1 & toil coopeiant to an cud Mctt^ is dated at the cdnclusion of that long period of peace wliieh onde<l at tho Crimean War, when the commorcial prosperity of England hacf reached a height unknown before, and wh^p^ Britain’s sole g'lJd” was the mfilionaire. « The pdbm ^ves a dramatic ren« GENERAL INTROpUCTION. xvii dering of the revolt of a cultured mind against the hypocrisy and corruptions of a society degraded by the worship of Mammftn, iliough the hero inherits a* vein of insanity and speaks too bitterly. The teaching of ^^ennyson^s longest, and in many respects greatest ' poenv-the spreading mischief of a moral taint — is discifssed at length in thetIntroduQfion to 71ie Coming Arthur and the Passing of Arthur,^ Here too Tenny- son ex5>rossift one of the deSpest convictions of his tjjne. But it Tennyson’% pqpulairity is based upon a ( 2 ) As Artist. ‘ correspondence between his own reverence for Law aud«the deepest foundations ^f English character, it is based no less upon his delicate power as £g;i Artist. Among the elements of iPhis power may be mentioned minute observation of Nature, which furnishes him with#a store of poetic description ^ajid imagery ; (b) a scholarly appreciation of all that ia^most jjictur- esque in the literature of the past; (c) an exquisite precision in the use of words and phpises ; (d) the picturesqueness and the aptness of his similes;* {e) an < avoidantfe of the commonplace ; (/) his use of repeti- tion and of assonance; {g) the expressive harmonies *of ^his rhythm, and (A) the subtle melody of his diction. («) For minute observation and vivid painting of the (a) HiA ob- details of natural scenery Tennyson is without a rival. We feel that Jae has seen all that he describis* This may be illustrated by a few examples of his tree- studies : hair In gloEta a^d Ifhe the chestnut, when the shell .Divides three-fold to show the fruit within* {The Bfm>k) ^MacnuUan and Uo. h . xviil GENERAL INTRODUCTION. tkofiie eyes Daiker than daikesi pansies, and that hair Moie black than a^hbuds tht fiont of March {Phi Gardeners DanqhUr) With blasts that blow the poplar white {In Mcm(n ion *S A million enioialds bicak fiom the i uby -budded lime < ® (Maud) a btiitnp^of oak half dead, y. From roots like some black coil ot cai\Sxi snakes. « * Clutch’d at the crag r {The Last 7'e»umanient\ We may also notice the exactnes«» of the epftliets li\ ^^perktf larches,” “ di y-tongu^d laurels,” “ ^igh-dhou grigs,” ^^piUm'd dusk of bounding sycamores,” “labur- nums, diojtj)fm/‘U?dls oj Jue^* Equally exact are his desciiptiobs of scientiiic pheno- luena • * BoforeHhe Jittle ducts began To feed thy bones with lime, and lan Their cenrse till thou wert also man {The 'Two Uo^res) Still, as while Setum whirls, his steadfast slfkde Sleeps on his luminous ring {The Palace of Ar*), This accurate realisation of natural or scientific facts is often of service in furnishing apt illiistratioiis of moral tiuths or of emotions of the mind^: \ Bieak, thou deep vase of chilling teais That gnef has shaken into frost {/ft Afemoj^m) Thoir thousand wreaths of daugling^water .smoke That like a broken* j^urpof^e waste m air (The Priitcesa) GENERAL INTR( AUCTION. xix Prayer, from a living aource within the will, And bcdting np throu/|[i all the bittci world, Like fountains sweet Mater in the sea [Enoch Arden). Allusions to tlie riassios of more than ono land may. be found in Tennyson. Linos and expressions would seem sometimes to* be suggested by the Oieek * or Latin |)octs, and in these thd ttanslation is generally so happy oft rendering of*the original as to giv|| an a<!Cifod grac^ to what was ^ilready beautiful. Illustra- tipns of this characteristic will he found among the N(j^es at the end of this volume. There is occasionally a roconditJness about those allusions which iigiy puzzle the general reaiiur. Fo< '‘\amplo, in^'h^e linos And ovei those ethereal eyes 'Ai bar of Michael Angelo [In Munou’ani^ where tho reference is to the jirojoctioij of the frontal bone above the oyo brows noticeable in the f^ortraits# of Michael Angelo and ojf Aithur Ilallam, a peculiarity of shape said to indicate strength of chaiacter ftnd mental power Similarly in Proxy-wedded with a bootless calf * [The PrntctM) <Ve find an allusion to an old ceremony of marriage by proxy, where an ambassador or agent representing the^absont bridegroom, after taking off his long riding- boot, placed hit leg in the bridal bed* (c)' We* ‘may next not| Tewnyson’s unequalled ^ower(o) ms expm of finding tingle words^fo gi^e at a flash, as it were, XX GENERAL INTRODUCTION. an exact picture. ^V’hat he has written of Virgil’s art is equally true of his own, which offers us All the charm of all the Sinses often flowering in a lonely word; This power of fitting the word to the thought ma^ bo seen in the following examples : “ creamy spray ” ; lily maid ” ; “ the ripple washing in the reeds ” and the,, wild water lapping on the crag”; “the dy^^g ebb that faintly lipp'd the flat rgd granite”; “as the fiery Sirius bickers into red and emerald “ women tlowz'd with health and wind and rain.” (d) Mr. G. C. Macaulay (Introduction to i^areth and Lyneite) has remarked upon ^he picturesqueness, the elaborate apthess, and the individual and persqjial character of Tennyson’s similes. Of their picturesque aptness two examples will be sufficient here : Tlie great brand Made lightr^ijgs in the splendour of the moon, Aiidcflashing round and round, and whirl’d in an arch, Shot like a streamer of tlie nortliern morn, Seen where the moving isles of wdnter shock By night, with noises of the northern sea {Morte Arthur) Dust are our frames ; and, gilded dust, our pride Looks only for a moment whole and sound; Like thfit long*buried body of the kq;ig, • Fomid lying with his urns and oniame?hts, Which at a touch of fight, an air of heaven, Slipt into ashes, and was found no more {^ylmer^s JFVe/S), As regards thair indivifaal personal*’ character, Tenajrsoa’s singes io many "cifUies not so much GENERAL INTRODUCTION. XXi appeal to common experience, as bring before us some special thing or some peculiar aspect of nature, which the poet has vividly fjreseUt to his own mind, whik to the reader perhaps the picture suggested may be unfamiliar.’* As examples we may take the foll^ving : 8o now that shadow of misoliancc %ppcar'd No gr§ver than as wlien some little cloud Cuts ol^*the fiery highway of the sun, And isle^ a light in tbe o^ng • {Enoch Ardm), Sof in Geraint and Enid^ wien the bandit falls trans- fixed by Geraint’s lance, Tennyson writes: Afe he thal tells the talc • « Saw once a great j^ece of a promontory, 'I'hat 4iad a sapling growing on it, slide ^ ^ From the long shore-clilFs windy walls to^tho beach, And there lie still, and yet the sapling grew. A remarkable instance of this individuality occurs in Gareth and Lynette : Gareth lookt and read — In letters like to those the vcxillmy Hath left crag-carven o’er the sti'caming Gelt ; — the Gelt being a small stream in Cumberland, not named in ahy of the ordinary gazetteers or atlases; and the referenct^ is to an inscription on a^ime-stone rock near this "stream, carve(^ by the Second Legion of Augustus, stationed there in a.d. 207. (fc) Possessing sijch a faculty of appropriate expres- («> His avow- sion, tfio..poet naturally avoids the commonplace: he cSSfmJnlJbcoj not only ri^dly excludes alf^otiose epithets ah# stop- gap phrases, h\i% often,# where other wjiters would use GENERAL, INTRODUCTION. xxii some familiar, well-worn word, he selects one less known but equally true aiul expressive, fic has a distinct fondness for good old Saxt)n \fords and expressions, and has helped to rescue many of the.se -from uncle- * served oblivion. Thus, for the “skinflint” of eoniny<ii parlance he substitutes (in JFalM/ig to the Mail)* ih(^ “fiayflint” of Rny'd^Proverbs^ in place of “ blindman’s buff” is found the older “ hoodraan blind ” Mrnor- * ittw)/, for “village and cowshed” ho writ&t “tliojpe and byre” {Tlw Victim); while lix^The Brook^hQ Freiu*h “ cn’ckot ” appears as the Saxon “ gr ig.” Other cxainplijs might be quoted, lurdane^ rathe, planh, hhm, ihraK^d, boles, quitelh, leckling, rohj, yaffmgale. Occasionally he prefers a word ,o? his own coinLge, as h^guestci', selfless. This tendency to avoid the commonplace is noticeable not only in ^qi)arate words, but in the rendering ol ideas, ^9 poetie dress being given to prosaic details by a kind of stately circumlocution : thus in The Pmcess the hero’s nortlyjru birthplace is indicated by Lis telling •us that on iny cradle shone the Northern star ” ; and, in the same poem, the blue smoke rising from household chimneys Is described by “azure pillars of the hearth ” — an expression which Mr. P. M. Wallace, in his edition of Princess, aptly calls “almost reverent”; icebergs are “moving isles 6f winter”; while to pVture the hour before the planet Venus had ^unk into the sea, the Qoet writes: Before the crinifton^circlod star Had falPu into her father’ll gra^e. of teading’jthaWKteristicB of Tennyson’s •wnMHw: stylo is tii6 re|>jtUion of a wond (ofte^ in a modified GENERAL INTRODUCTION. xxiii form) in tho same or sometimes ill a slightly different sense. We have, for instsftice : Whereat the iioviocteryinj^, with olaepM hands, [Shame on her own (jarrulity garrulously ^ {ihiinevere) in tho same poem, *The maidejb passion for a maid; to which we may add: For oyir climbing up the climbing wave (The LotoS’Eatel^) M^u/denng with tlfe dulf earth’s mouldering sod (The Palace of Art). Assonance — the repetition not of a word but of a sound — is also a favourite <J^vico with Tennyson for giving m kind of epigramjpatic force to a statement, as in Eveii to tipmosl lance and topmost helm (The Tournament) • Thy Payuiin hard Had such a mastery of his mystery That he could harp his wife up out of hell (Ih) Thou with that frinidly-fitmlly smile of his (TJarold)* (g) Lastly, if we examine the metrical characteristics to) in. hm. of Tennyson's poetry, we observe that the sense ofJhySmj majestic order and gradual development pervading the substance of poems is not more conspicuous than is the sense of music which governs the style of his V’raiflcal'ion. While less powerful than Milton’s at its besit, Tenny8fn’8*blaiik verse always remains at a high level of ejxcelleace, and itf simple grandhur of style and expresBioh ia pMuliailfy Ida onriL It il in his XXIV GKNKHAL INTRODUCTION. lyrical poems, however, that his mastery of metife and rhythm best shows itself. He knows all the secrets of harmonious measures and melodious diction ; ho has A-cast and polished his earlier poems with such minute and scrupulous care that he has at length attainec^a metrical form more perfect than has been reached O^y any other poet. Several illjistrations of the delicacy of his sense of mefite are pointed out in the Notes. « A few more examples may«be here quote^' to ‘show how frequently in his verse the sound echoes the seA^e. This is seen in his RepresSitatice Rhythms. ^ Thus ; (1) The first syllable or half-foot of a lipe of bla^k verse is often accented and cut off from the rest of the line by a*' pause, to indicate ^some sudden emphatic action or startliifg sight or sound^ breaking the fl(^ of the narrative — an effect often employed by JHomer : his arms Claeli’d : and the sound was ,good to Gareth’s ear {Gareth and Lynette) Charm’d, till fSir Kay, the seneschal, would come (Ih.) Shock, that a man far-olf might well perceive {Lancelot and Elaine) Flasli’d, and he call’d, fight upon thy side’ {FellecM and Etcurre) Back, as a hand that pushes thro’ the leaf {Jb!) Fall, as the crest of some slow -arching wave Drops flat * (The Last Tournament). Occasionally the whole first foot is thus cut off; made his horse Cara^fpole ; then bowed his^omiM, bluntly saying Wh gi:nii:ral intkoduction. XXV Who fetoocl ca moment, ere hia liortsli wa» ]>ronglit, Gloiying : and in the streifni beneath hitn shone {Gareth and Lyiiatte). (2) Action rapidly repeated is represented by sfti wusual number of unaccented syllables in one line. Ttos we almost hear the- huddling flow of waters in such lines as Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro’ the lawn ( The Princess) Of some preciintous ^j-vulet tojLhe sea {Enoch Arden). w The rapid nvarble of song-l^*rds sounds through Melody on branch and melody in mid-air {U^rcth and Lynette) and in ^ the same Idylls the quick beat of a horse’s hoof is echoed in The sound of many a heavily galloping hoof. (3) Contrast with the above the mijestic effect pro- duced by the sustained rhythm and the bread vowdi souncTs in By the long wash of Australasian seas {The Brook) The league-long roller thundering on the reef {Enoch Arden). (4) Variations from the usual iambic regularity of blank verse, attained by pladfng the accent on the first instead of on the second half-foot, are introduced, often to represent intermittent action, as in •• ^ D6wn the 16iig tdwm'-st4i% h^sitdtiiig {Lkncelot and Elaine), xxvi GENERAL INTRODUCTION. • Toniiy<?on*s fietfso of music is equally conspituoua in the molofiy of his dictiofj. The mere sound of his words and phrases lingers iji the^brain, a))art from any nfeaniiig, as the echoes of a musical cadence linger along a vaulted roof. This is in tlio main due to his solccti^ of melodious vowels and liquid consonants, and a?S) to his skilful use of alliteratjpn. Examples are evofy- where : The moan of doves in immoAoriaf e/ms, Md munnio'iuf;r of innmieraf)/e l/Gca Princes^ The /ustro of the /ong convo/vnfusoa {Enoch Arrhn)^ The /oT?g low dw/io and /azy pf|/«ging sea * (The h9sf Toiimcvnicni) • • /frcasl-high in that bright line of bracken kUxxI ami Pfnrrc) All^Usy the wind breathes low with inc^^oww tone Through every hol/ow cave and a/Zey lojio (The Loto^ EcUfrs). Contrast with the liquid sounds in the abpv^e the representative effect produced by the short, shaq) vowels and the guttural and dental sounds in And on the npike that ftplU the mother's hearf ifjwiVring the child {The Coming^ of Arthur) The blade flew ^ iS'y>/i>t/ermg in and cffnlt upon the omnes {Batin md Balm) Then «pw(ferij)g thro' the h^dfte of «eoth, Yet sirt^ngeis to the tongue, and with hltmi sawing the^t ^ {The Last Tourhament). CENKRAL TNlRomrCTlON xx\ii In doulJe r/ouh initial alliterallSu is conspicuous.— h(aln-h(afeUt fesh fnIVn, ^mny-gladed, ladyAadin^ wocl- metk, poinUpaiuted, attn siom-sirengthcn'd^ tongue- itnn, wo^kwan. We also find slowly melloumg, liollovfer- S^lomng^ ercr-vemngy heavy-shotted hanmock-sh <md,^ UUon, as Mr. G. C. Macaulay lias noticed, Tenny- son’s alliteration is so dilicate that wo “only feel that it is there without pcicciving A\heie it is/^ and it is then, peAaps, due to nb conscious elFort of the poet, Vut is natuial tho ini'loily of a bird, •in no ^English poet, perlutps only in Homer and Viigil, is Hiis kinship of poetry aijid music so evident as m Tennysdn. Tennyson’s thieo ^/storical draxnas form (as Mr. hw oiamatic flenry Van Dykf^ has pointed ouf) a picture of the Making of England, tho three peiiods of action being, it would seem, chosen witfi^tho design of touching tho most critical points of the long*istnigglc. Thus in Harold wo see “the close of that fierce triangular duel between the Saxons, the Dan^s, and* the Normans, which resulted in the Noiman conquest and the binding of England, still Saxon at heart, to the civiliswition of the Continent” In Beclct we have “the conflict between the church and the* crown, between tlio ecclesiastical and the royal prerogatives, which shook England «to the centre for many juars, and out of which her present con- stitutioti hog grown ” In Qlteen Mary, when the triumph of church and ^people had left undecided what type of •loligion Vas to prevail, is pictured the struggle between tho Papacy^ and ^the Seformation for the pos- eession of !^gland.^ *4U ^hree pUya are fufi of deep xxviii GENERAL INTRODUCTION. research, vivid character-painting, and intensity of feel* ing, and contain many magnificent situations. George Eliot has expressed her opinipn that ‘‘ Tennyson’s plays run Shakspere’s close,” and llobert Browning used to .point out the scene of the oath over the bones of tl^ Saints of Normandy, in Harold^ as a marvellously actable scene; while Mr. J. •!{.. Green, the historian, has told us that “alf his researches into the annals ?)f the twelfth century had no! given him sf^ vivid a conce^ion of the chaijacter o^ Henry 11.^ and l?is court as was embodied in Ten^iy son’s BeckeW^ It^ should at the same time bg remembered that (as the poet himself avows) this drama is “not intSnded in its present form to meet the exigencies ^f the modern theatre,” a criticism which may be*applied with moifi or less force to the whole trilogy. Becket hiiB been adapted for the stage by Mr. Irving, and performed with grtSit success; and The Cup and The Falcon were each played during a London season to full houses. Q^sn Mai^^ The Promise of May, and The Foresters have also been acted. Sueh is Tennyson as man and as artist. His poetry, with its clearness of conception and noble simplicity of expression, its discernment of the beautiful and its power of revealing and shaping it with mingled strength and harmony, has become an integral part of the literature of the world, and so long as purity and lofti- ness of thought expressed ^n peifect form have power to charm, will remain a possession fo^ ever. INTROBUOTI0JSI TO AYLMER’S FIELD. TlSTRODUn’Ki^ TO AYLMER’S FIELD natpi/ocaiity, FuJd was firet, pubhsbtd in 1K64., AylmV- fiton, a villaf^o in Nmfolk, has heeft said to he th« scon^ of the poem; but the de<^<T^j)lion of the localit}' as land of 1 k)J)s ” (1. 31 ) shows that it must be laiJ in some more southern En|L?libh county, s^ch as l^nt or Sussex The title -At/Iwei's Field p(;ints t% the desolation thft overwliolmod the anrestral aliode of the A ylrne* family, when ‘**fhc cfreat Hall was holly biokui down, And tho brod<l v^oodland paicclPd into fanns,’* ^d tlms \yhat was once AylnuVs II(dl came to bo known as Aylmer's FuhL Igiy of tho The story of the poem is briefly this : — Sir Aylmer Aylmer is one of the English landed gentry, proud of his With and station ; his wife, once a well known beauty, is a mere shadow of himsclt They have ene lovely daughter, Edith, sole heiress to their wealth and name, a benefactor of the ])oor and favourite of «.ll who know her, Averill is rector of the parish, and lioolin is his brother. lA'olin and Edith grow up together, and A^ir- childish int im acy ripens into love in their maturer a |C<litfi is enlightened •as the state of her owh . :8 towards Leelin by flaSlj of semi-jealousy/' on AYLMET^’S FIELD xxxi his pi!rt, of du Indian kinsman who*^omes and makos Uvv jiiobontb, amon^ them hciu^ a dajL^gei of l)eautifrd woik maiiship. This daggei; she gixos to Leolin Tlien Sh Aylmer’s eyes tue suddenly opened to the Jo\einakiif" liictweon the two, Lfjolui is violently driven t»om his defers, and Edith is kept close at home Tlie indig naftt Tieolm goes oft' to lys law studies, detei mined to UMike a name for himself, and moSnwhile he and Editli fi.tTry eoi-ifispondenre with each Othoi. Tfiis is discovered and stopped, neither of them <lnder- standiog l?ow« Edi^li is*moie closely shut up than ; she loses her health, is cauglit by a passing foverj and diestwith Loolin’s name u}ion h(*r lips. Leolin hears her call him in his slcui' as it se<‘m8, and ailsweis her, t^mibling with ex( iteiiient. The next day comes the dreadfii^ Hews, and tioolin stabs himself with the dagger that Edith had given him On a fdlJbwing Sumlay morning, Averill is asked to preach KditliNsfuneial sermon. He takes for his t(»xt, “ Hohold, your house* is loft unto you desolate,^* and denounces Sn teriiblc uon^s of dyom the pride and self-seeking of the Aylmer parents. Lady Aylmer faints and is cairie<l out of the church, and the heart-stricken Sir Aylmer staggers out belund her, followed by the frowns of the assemhlo<l villagers. Jjady Aylmer dies in a month, and Sii Aylmer becomes imbecile, and two years later is lai4 beside his wife and daughter. Then the gieat Hall is pulled down, and its site is turned into a haunt for the mole and the hedgehog, Jn point oft style, the main characteristic of Aylmer^a Field is'* its vigour of thought and expression. While retnarkable for passages of great loveliness ancf pathos, xxxii TNTRODUCriON TO it is through its poiiser rather than its beauty thafr, as a wliolo, it appeals to the imagination of the reader. AVe do not find here the studied simj^Jicity of language and tiie repose of feeling that mark its companion poem, Enoch Ardetif published originally in the same volumgf But in its stern moral strength Aylmefs Field is Ifn- equalled among the poems of Jennyson. scoi^eaiid AylmcFs Field is “S protest against the tyranny of tic pride of birth and wealth overdovc/’ ^ It deniitJncee one of th® chief among “The social lies that warp iis frorfi the living trutli#” The pride depicted by tl^ poet is of that ignolTIe type which leans in self-corn plg.cent egotism upon the achievements of others, witho»t any %ense that the inheritance of a noble name shoultP bo an incentive fo noble deeds warihy of a great ancestry. It is tlhe pride that is ^ntent to , “ Fall back upon a name, rest, rot in that, Not it noble, make it nobler.” For this false pride of birth and the Mammon-warship that<so often accompanies it Tennyson ehferishes a noble scorn and abhorrence, and be has branded them both in several other of his poems. For example, in Lady Clara Fere de Fere^ the pride of the heroine produce® a tragical result some<.vhat similar to that of Ayhier^s Fidldy in the suicide of “ young Lawrence,” the humble suitor who is scornfully rejected by this ^‘daughter of a hundred earls.” In Maad again it is the pride of the bjpther that brings about the catastrophe. Maud, like Edith,* is faithful to ^ A Study tf By E. C. Tainsb. AYLMPWS FIKLD. xxxiii hor loVer ; but, like her, slie canifbt extricate heiself from the selfish worhllinesfi ot hor surroundings; and she too is parted from hijn and dies. In Aylmer's Field, Loolin is driven to despair and madness that ends ifl dln’cide ; in Mavd, the mind of the hero also gives way beil^ath the strain of acute suffering, but he recovers and findlis a solace i|^ noble actign. In Lochley Ball it is the •pride of wealth that steps betwefn the two youthful loverff wf^ its blighting •influence, though with oon- sAfliences loss tragic Jhan in Aylmer's Field, ^ere, as in Ilymlel, the curtMii falTs upon the deaths of all the c^4ef personages in the story except one, and only Averill isieft, like Horatio, • ** In this faftrsh worlfL to draw his breath in pain.” The subject of Wordsworth’s Bart-leap Well has some compared to aflSnity to that of Aylmer's Field In Sfhor poem the Wcii. events are told or supposed to be told to the wfltt^r by an old man familiar with the traditions of the place where they occurred. Both stories tufn upo|i wantoi^ acts of ciuelty, though in Ilart-leap Well it is a dumb animal that is the victim, instead of human beings, as in Aylmer's Field* In Hart-leap Well, as in Aylmer's Field, the scone of man’s ])ride and inhumanity is laid waste ; the spot is curst ” ; and Sir Walter’s great lodge, like Sir Aylmer’s mansion, is wholly broken #down and vanishes like 'ta forgotten dream.” “ Now there is neither grass nor pleasapt shade ; Hie san on drearier hollow never shone.” In Wordsworth’s poein^ however, we are noT loft, os in Aylmer^s Field, to contemplate a prospect of unredeemed The Sennou. xxiiv INTKODUCTION TO I ruin and desolatioii'j^ There is a healing as well /is a re- tributive power in Nature ; it is true that “ The pletisure-house it) dustc* — behind, hcfoio, This is no common waste, no common gloom ; But Nature, in duo course of time, once more Shall here put on her beauty and her bloom.” A leading feature in Aylmc'^s Field x voiilPs sermon, comprising, as it does, nearly one-fifth of the entire poetn.- It has been described as “a* mosaic of lJibft> language, mos6^curiously wrought and fus^d into one living whole by the heat of an intense sorrow.^’ ^ Tn its projchet-like earnestness and terrible, concentrated power, no less than in its subtly intermingled pathos and scorn, it stands unparalleled in literaturfc^. Critics have raised ob- jections to so excellent a clergymap as Averill being x’o- presented as seizing the first opportunity of preaching publicly against two of his parishioners after their daugh- ter’s d'dath, and have asked, “ Why smite those afresh whom God had smitten so terribly already ? ” But such criticismi^ as these are wide of the mark The poem is explicitly an idealised delineation of coarse and cruel wrong-doing followed by swift and appropriate punish- ment. The demands of poetical justice are satisfied to the full. Borne along by the high moral truth of the whole picture, the reader does not stop to inquire into minor details or questions of antecedent probabilities. The pathetic dc6orij)tion of the events that come before and load up to it, prepares his mind for the preacher’s storm-blast of indignant reproach. is no senso«»of incongruity; the sermon seems a natural and almost* ^The Poetry r<my'*hH. By Henry Van Dyke. AYLMER’S lilELD. XXXV inevital^le outcome of what precedes ; and the canons of taste and of art are alike satisfied. This sermon may be Briefly paraphrased as follows • Paraphraaod. “^The worst -of all the calamities that mankind has suffered under are the various forms of idolatry whi^h put Self in the. place of God. The old Baal- worshippers degraded their object ^f worship to their bwn levelf but, with the earning of Christianity, bettor things wei^ expected. But no ! though actual ^doh w(H*shi|) is ^one, man %tilW woPships his own selfish desires ^nd aims in the shape of wealth and rank, livitig in luxury and carel«Bs of his souVs welfare and of tfie teachings (jf the reli^on that •he pro- fesses You tlien, the# modern self-worshipper, who ou^t to have known better, shall be regarded by the humbly-b5rn but mighty Jesus as a worse idolater than the old Baal'Worshipper, for you by your evil pjecept and example destroy the souls instead of the bodies of your children. Some possibly may escaf»e the taint, as did the subject of .my discourse, a beautiful matden, the * joy and blessin^^f our homes. No cottage was too humble for her t^;^iait, no wretchedness too low^ for tor to succour. Her hand was ever ready in works of charity and kindness, and, herself a disciple of the loving Christ, she soothed your religious doubts and sweetly healed your quarrels. Leolin was her constant companion, and*might eventualjy have b^ome her hus- band. He has died by his own hand; — a.^eath of shame, the •guilt and tl^ disgrace of which beloi^thot to him but to those wsjio drove him to it.^ Good reason then have I, thus doubly bereaved, to say, JMy house is left uilbo me desolate.’ XXXYl INTHOBUCTION to ^'TotL too, my parishioners, may well use tlfe same words, for your loss is irreparable. But you, the un- ^appy parents, who havo«cauf^ all this calamity, — would that you, like Jorusiah^m of old, had- better under- stood your own true interests and ours t As Jerusalem had her prophets, whom she stoned, so you had\vour child to lead you up to lusher things^ and you have killed lier. Jerusalem, unr 9 i)entant, was dofola^ed by Bwo|jjd and liro ; and you, who would not llbten to ^ the warning example of your# child, have brought* a kko doom upon yourselves. This loss has dai^kenod'my oum life and hardened my feolrngs ; pray for me, Ujiy partsh- ioners, for Leolin, Alas, is past your prayers. ’ “ When I first heard of thc^ events; I, who thought myself so meek-spirited, was thin ii#dignantly to tlenoiAce the crime thal* has made those two its victhns. But when J. see what is now going on in France, the Revolu^ tion with its Reign of Terror and ghastly, wholesale executions, I fool that this is not a time to add fuel to ^tlio angry passions of men. No less do I feel that this was not a fitting time for these Aylf^jte to indulge their pri'do. My wish, then, is that thi$ jm&t sin of theirs may remain concealed from the pumic eye, though it will, no doubt, be talked of in this neighbourhood. But I would ask you rather to pray for and pify those who have canned out their own aims and brokm a union which might have perpetuated their* family ; — who, thinking by methods to plan their daughter’s,; welfare, have Panned her death asid Jirought misery upon their old age. Their punishment in this life is sqroly««gr6at enough witljyout that of the life to come, Stript as they of our respect and affection, with a AYLMER’S .FIELD. xxxvii etranglir to succeed to their«property, bereft of all hope of posterity, their home desolated, bitter indeed must be their feelings as they Iftar me, their old friend, like them ^nd by them bereaved, cry to them, as Christ did to the worldly, self-deluding Pharisees, * Behold, your house is leftNinto you desolate ! ’ ” ' It may be lemarked, in oondusion, that the Greek *trSgic elpmont is strongly represented in Aijlmer’s F}^. Like the haughty (Edipus, of Sophocles’s ^ma, usged'on hy overmastering* Destiny, Sir Aylmer, “by lys owfi stale devil spurr’d,” goes blindly on, working out his own ruin for Umselfo He is the Greek Hybris* tes, the violent, overbe/uing type of humanity. Or again, like the Ibnnal C^on of the same dramatist, bent oif promoting his sol’s best interests by “ breaking the bond ” between him and the noble .Antigone, Sir Aylmer sets himself about “ contriving his dear .daugh- ter’s good,” and ends in ignorantly devising her death. The irony of it all is thoroughly Oreeie in its texture, though the Greek notion of an inexorable Fato%r Necos-* sity is* replaced in the modern poeni by a vivid repre- sentation of the power of a “ Getting sin,” indulged and cherished, to goad a man^on to his own destruction and that of others. Here, as ever, “sin when it is finished, bringeth forth death.” AYLMER'S F1ELI> AYLMEH'S FIELD. 1793 . I>(7ST are our ; aiftl, gilded <Iust, our piide Ijookh only for a niomei^t whole apd JBOiUid ; ffike that loiig-burieS body of the king, Found lying with hie urnjLaud ornaments, • AVliich at a touch of light, an air of lieaveu, Slipt into ashea, and was found no more. Tfe;;e is a story wliich hi rougher shape (‘aiiie from a cripple, \vhom I saw Sunning himself in a waste field alone — Old, and a mine of memories — who liad sei-ved Long since, a bygone Rectoi' of the phu*e, And been himself a part of w’hal he told. Sir Aylmer Aylmer, that afp|ig}^tv man, Tl^t‘ county God— in whose ca pacious hall, llimg with a llun<ired shields, the family tree^ Sprahg from the midritf of ail prostrate king — Whose blazing wyveru ^€*athe»cock*d tlje spire, 2 AYLMER\S FIELD. from his walls aiftl wing*d liia ew try-gates And ^'waxig IjesjiJcs on many a windy bign — Whose eyes from under a pyramwla^ head 20 Saw from his windows notliing* save his own — What lovelier of liis own ha*l he than her, tlis only child, Iiis Edith, whom he loved As heiress and not heir regretfully ? lint ‘he that marries Imr majjjgj^her nam\’ This liat somewhat soothed himself and wife, His wife a faded beauty of the* Baths, l^^suphl^as the Queen upon a card^ I Her all of thought and bearing han^y more [Than his own shadow in a sickly sun. 30% A land of hops ami poppy-mingjed com^ Little about it sliriiiig save a brook 4 A sleepy land, jvjiere under the same wheel The same old would deepen year by year ; Where rftmast all the village had one n.inie ; Where Aylmer followed Aylmer at the Ilall 4nd AverilJ AvoAll at the gectoiry Thrice over ; so that Rectory and Hall, Bounj) in au immemorial intimacy^ ' Were open to each other ; tho’ to dream 40 ^ That Loy^ could bind them closer well had made The Jtioa^,]|iair of the Baronet Vifttlf> l;^p With horror, worse than had he hoard his priebfc Preach nn inverted scripture, j^Qijya^Qf men of Qod; so sleepy was the land. < And might not Averill, had he will’d it Somewhere beneath his own Ehve aK.o set his many-shieMed trfe ? AYLMER’S FIELD. 3 Theft* was an Aylmer- A verill marriage once.- When the red rose was redder than itself, 50 And York’s white rose as red as Lancasters, /Not provgfl ’ Averill said, or lan gliingly ‘Some other race of Averills* — proven or no, W%at cared he? what, if other or the same ? B\it Leolin, his brother, living oft With Av^ll, and a year or two before Ckll’t^ to the bai*, but ever call’d away one low voice to ^ne d^r neighbourhoo<l, 60 JtVouldT often, in his walks with Edith, claim Jf distant kinship to the grslfcious blood Tliat shook the heart of^Edith hearing him. ' J^angjiinfiyhe was: a but less vivid hne^ Than of tnat islet in the chestnut-bloom Their best and brightest, when they hers, Editht whose pensive beauty^, perfect else, But aubiect to the season or the mood, i Shone like a mystic Star between the less And greater glory varying to and fro, We know not wherefore ; bonnteonaly made. . And yet so finely , that a troublous touch ^ Thinn’d, or ^ would seem to thin her in a dav. A joyous^ to dilate, as toward the light. And these had been together from the first. 70 So junch^ the boy foreran ; l^t when his dat^ Doubled h^ir own, for yant of playmates, he 80 4 LMERS FIELD (Since Aveiill was a (TDVad and a JliaU Ills <lfki, and lYioiz pireiits uikUi^ioiukD Had tost his ball .*yid^own hyi kitOj and toll’d lli^t hooji to f^easuie Eclith, with lui dipt v it Against the lush of the an in tlu* pioiK swing, blade blossom ball or daisy (ham, aiianged Her gaiden, sow’d her name and kept it gi^en III living htteis, told hei fair> t&les, Show’d liei the fui^- footings on th< glass, The little iMls of <owslip, f my 'palms, a/ ^fho p< tifay mir^stail toiest, faii> pines, Oi fioiii the tin> pitted tiiget^bkw What look’d a tltgld of faii> allows aim’d All at one inaik, all hitting tnakc believes Foi Editli and himself or else he^foiged, But tint was lat*i, boyish histones i Of kittle, bold adventure, dungeon, wreck, Flights, teiiois, siuhhn lesosj^e®, and inn Jove (Jrpvvn,’d aft 11 iiiaf, '^l<t(hcs ludi and tamt, 'But whcli* a i>issioij }ct unboin jxibips La^ hidden as the niusic of tin m oon SJpeps in the pJaiif eggs of tlie nightingale And thus togethti,^ sav,t foi < ollcgc tunes Or Teinjjh eaten tcinis, a rouple, fan As evci paintei iiainted, poet sang, Or Heaven in lavish bounty moul 4 .p 4 r grew And more and moie, the maiden woman-grown, He wMsted hoiiis with Averill , thoie, when fii# The tinted VMiiter field was bioken up Into thit phalanx of the summer spears That soon sliould wear the garland , there again When bun and bme wore gather’d , lastly tlieie At Chnstmas , e\er welcome at the Hall^ ^ On whose dilB SiMJMJpess hw fujl tide of youth Broke with a pbosphorescenc0*chara^mg even AYLMER’S FIELD. r> J Baronet yet hl??l lai<l No t)ar l>etween them : dull aii<l self- involved, Tall and erect, but bending from bis lieiglit With half-allowing amiles*for all the world, 120 And mighty courteous in the main-- h is piide i'iU'jH’CPcr than Jto wear it at? Jus rini?— iV, like an .^yhner in his Aylmerism, ■^ould care ^10 more foi^Leolin's walking with her *Thaii for his ohl NewfoundlaiidV, wlieii they ran To*Ioostj^*hini at the stables, for he rose flVyfooted at the limit of his chain* Ttoaiing Ub make a ^hird :^and*how should Love, AJThom the ci‘oss-ligh tilings of four <liance-met eyes into fiery life from lathi ng, follow 130 Such dear familiarities fof dawn " * • Sehioni, but i»hen he ch es, Master of all. So these young hearts not knowing that theyiyjloved, Not she at least, nor oonbci<»us of a bar ' Between them, nor by plight oi brokt^ ring Bound, but an immemorial intimacy, Wander'd at will, and oft aceoin[>anied By Averill : his, a brother's love, that hung With wings of broodi ng shelter o'er her peace, Might have been other, save for Leolin's — 140 f Who kn<^ws? but so they wander'd, hour by hour ttatitetf d . Ifts and dx^mk The magic cup Shat fill'd itself anew. • A whisper, hal# reveal’d her to herself. For beyond her lorlgei^ where the brook YfiCaL and^there ^ silence, ran 6 AYLMER’S FIELD. By sallowy aroaef’xhe labourers’ homes, A frequent haunt of Editl:^. on low l^no lls At?^ random scatter’d, each a nest in bWom/' Her art, her hand, her counsel all had wrought *A.bout them : here was one that, auminer-bla^|>p|^’d, Was parcel- bear^^ with the travell^r’s-iov In Autumn, pai^l^ ivy-clad ; anfl here \ The warm-blue breathings of a hidden hearth Broke from a bower of vine and honey suckle One lo4iik*d all rosetree, and another wore A close-set rob? of jasmine sof^n wijh stars: . This had a rosy sea of gillyflowers lAbout it; this, a niilky-way^n earth, jLike visions in the Northern dreqrner’s hi^yeiis, A lily-avenue climbing to the doors ; One, almost to the Iriartin-haunted eai^es A summer burial deep in hollyhocks ; , Each, its own charm ; and Edith’s everywhere ; And Ed&h ever visitant with hmij He but less loved than Edith, of her poor : For she — so lowly* lovely andj^igj^ng, "y ^Sueenly rg^l ^ns ive when the loyal hand Rose from the clay it work’d in as she past, Not &wing |ifisigsimOfi5S±8 and passing by, # Nor dealing goodly coimser from a heigh t That makes the lowest Imte it, but a voice Of comfort and an open hand of help, A splendid irresence flattering the poor roofs Revered as theirs, but kindlier tlian themselves To s^ing wife or wailing infancy. Or old bedridden palsy, — was adored; He, loved for her and for himself. Haying the aa d^naagc le of the heart. A childlji wy with cnildrenf and ^ laugh 170 180 AYLMER’S FIELD. Rin ging l ike pro veil , Wfi A.no false pa ssport to* tliat easy r ealm. Where once with Leolin at her side the girl, Nursing a and* turning- to the warmth The tender fiy e-lysaded b aby -sole s. Heartl the good mother softly whisper ‘Bless, (W bless ’em : marria£res are made in Heaven.' A ila^i of semi-jealou^ clear’d it to her. iMjk^ ladfy’s Indian kinsman unannounced ' With haJjf a score *swa Ahv faces came. His*own, tho* keen and bold and soldierly l> 3 ' the close eclipti<il was not fair ; Fairer ^lis talk, a ton^e that ruled the hour, Tlio* seeming«boastfiil : so when lirsjb he dash’d Into the chronicle^ of *a deedful day, ' Sir Aylmer half forgot his lazy smile Of patron ‘ Good ! my lady’s kinsman ! good ! ’ My lady with her fingers interlock’d, And rotatory thunjbs on silken knees. Call’d all her vital spirits into each e*r To listen : unawares ^he v ditted off, BiAyin^^^m^elyes about the flowerage That from out a stiff brpeade in which, The meteor of a splendid season, she, Once with this kinsman, ah so long ago, Stept thro’ the stete ly niiimet of those days : But Edith’s eager fancy hurried M^ith him ^ tlytf. the perilous ^^es * orfeis life : Till Leolin ever watchful q 4 her eye, Hated him with a momentary hate. Wife-hunting, m the rumour ran, was he : I know not, for he spoke not, only showejijfd His oriental gifts on evefjtohe 8 AYLMKRVS FIELD. And most on E<Utb ; lii&3 a storm he ranio, And shook the lionse, and like *a .stoiiii he went. Among the gifts he left her (possibly Vte flow’d and ebb’d nneertam, to return When otliers had been tested) there was oin^ A dagger, in rieh sheath^ with jewels on it 220 Sptinkled about in gold that briineli’d itself Fine as ice-ferns on January ]>anes Made b)«^a breath. I know not whfiice at fiist, Nor of what lace, the woik ; but as he told The story, stoiiaing a hill-foit of thieves He got it ; foi tlioir captain after fight, His coniiadc'^ having fouglit their Ibst ] ^>el ow. Was climbing ui» the valle> ; at whpm he shot : Down from th<;,.^boethng ciag to which die clung Tumbled the tawjiy rascal at his feet, 230 This dagger with him, which when now admired Hy Edith •whom his plcjisure was to jdease, At once the costly Sahib yielded to her. And dijeolin, coining <ifter he was gone, Tost over all her presents petula ntly : / * And when she showed the wealthy scabbard, saying ‘liook what a lovely piece of workmanship!’ i Slight was his^answer * Well — I care not for it : ’ Then playing with the blade he prick’d his hand, ‘ A gracious gift to giv^d a tliis ! ’ * 240 * But would it be more gracious ’ ask’d the girl ‘ Were I to give this gift of his to one « That is no lad;^?’ ‘Gracious? No’ said he. * Mo ? — but I cared nob for it. , f} pardon me, AYl.MER'S FIELD. 9 7 s'bem to l)e ungraciou.snei5.s itself ' Talle it * she added sweefly, * tlio’ liis gift ; For I am more iiiigracioua ev*n than yon, I cat^ not for it ^eitff er ; ^ »aiid he said ‘ Why then I love it : * but Sir Aylmer past, And neither loved nor liked the thing he heard. 260 * The next^day came a neighboA*. Bines and reds Tlifey &lk’d of : blues w«re sure of it, he thought : •Thei) of the latest fox — where started — kill’d * In such a bottom : * tetel^ ha(? the binish , ^ My iPeter, first : ’ and did Sir Aylmcf know •That great pock-pitten fellow had been caught f Then n?a<Je h^j)legisu;ijp ^chp,^ haiid„ to haiAd, And rolling ^ it were the substance of it / I Between his palmijj a foment up and down- ‘ Tlie birds were warm, the birds were warm upon him ; We have him now : ’ and had Sir Aylmtr heard — ^ 261 Nay, but he must — the land was rin^in^ of it-^ Tins blacksmith border-marriage— one they knew- Raw from the nursery — who could tri^st a child ? That cursed France with her egalities ! And did Sir Aylmer (deferj^joiiisdly With nearing chair and lower’d accent) think — For people talk’d — that it was wholly wise To let that handsome fellow Averill walk So freely with his daughter? people talk’d — 270 The boy might get a notion into him ; ^ The girl might* be entangled ere she knew. Sir Aylmer Aylmer slowly utifiening spoke : ‘ The girl and boy. Sir, know their differences ! ’ ‘ Good/ sai^ his* friend, ‘ but watch ! ’ and he, * Enough, More, than enough, Sir ! I can guard my ^wn.’ They parted, and Sir Aytxjier Aylmer watch’d. 10 AYLMER’S FIELD. Pale, for on her the of the house Had fallen first, was Edith «thaV same iiip*ht ; Pale as^the Jo|>litha*Jt. slaughter, a rough i nece Of cajly rigid colour, under which ' Witlidi'awing by the counter door to tlial Which Leoliii open’d, she cant back upon him A piteous glance, and vanish’d. He, as one Caught in a burst of unexpecfed* storm, f And pelted with outiagAnis e|>ithetH, ’v" i Turning b^hehl the Powers of life House On cith^ side the hearth, indignant ; her, Cooling her ftilse cheek will^^a^eatHerfan, Jlini, glaring, by his own stale spiirr’d. And, like a beast hat <1 -ridden, «l>rcathing haKl, ‘ Uiigenetous„ dishonourable, base, ^ Pre*suaiptuous ^ trusted os was with hp% I'he sole succcecjer to their wealth, • thjir lands, The last remaining pillar of their house, The one transmifter of their aucient name, Theii cliiy.’ * Our child » ’ ‘ Our heiress ! ’ ‘ Ours I still, Like echoes from ly?yond a hollow, came H%r sic klier rtoraiion. Last he said, ‘ Boy, mark me ! for your fortunes are to make. 1 swear you shall not make tdj^m out of mine. Now inasmuch as you have practised on Perplext her, made her half forget herself^ Swerve from her duty to herself and us— ^ Things in an ^ylmer deem’d impossible, Far as we trade ourselves — I say that thi#— Else 1 withdraw favour and gouiitenaiice From you and yours for over— shall you do. Sir, when you see her — ^btit you shall uot^see her — No, you shall jwrite, and not to her, but me :* And YOU shall sav that ItaviniL Spoken with me. .aw S90 ’ for •300 310 11 AYLMER’S FIELD Ann after look’d into yourself, yofti tiinl Tlid1> you meant nothing- *as indeed you know That you meant nothing. 8uch a match as this ! Impossible, prodigioift ’ ’ •These wore words, As meted hy his moasuxe of himself, Arguing boundless forbearance • after whicli, Afid lieohn'a horior-strieken answer, So foul a traitor to myftelf and her, Never oh n^ver,* for about as IcAg 320 As* th^ %ind-hovoi haiig^ in balance, paused flir Ayfmer reddening from the storm within, Then broke all boudJ of «onrtftsy, and crying ‘Bo/, should I find you by my doors again, * My men shall lash you from tbem like a dog ; Hence ^ w'Lth a sudd^ execratio , n drg'^ The footstool^rom before Jaim, and aio^e ; ’So, staucomeriug *j^c/Adiet’ out of teeth that ground As in a dreadful dream, while Leohn still Betreated half aghast, the fierce old mafi 330 Follow’d, and under his own Imiel stood Storming with lifted hands, a hoary face Mee t for the reverence of the_hg^lth»#but now, Beneath a pale and ^jp|^p^i|sio|)J^^nioon* • YeXt with unworthy madness, and deform’d. Slowly and eonscious of the rageful eye That wwteh’d him, till he heard the ponderdus door Close, crashing with long echoes thro’ the ^juid, Went I^oUn ; t^n. his pas sions all in flood And jof hia^ motio%|^unQ ^p l y 340 Down thro* the bright lawns to his brother’s ran^ And foam’d away his heart at Averill’s ear : Wliom Averill solaced as he might, amaze^ . The Scan was his, had blfeji his father’s, friend^: AVLMKH’S PTKLD. 12 " iic must have bocu, hi^elf had seen it long ; |Ele muHt have known, himself iFiad known : He never yot had wet his daughter forth Heve in the w om an - mar ke ta of Ahe Where our ian w let themsolvew be aold. Some cue, he thought, had wlander’d Leolin to him. * ^50 ‘ Brother, for I have loved you more aw won Than brother, let me tell y<m : 1^ myself — What is their pi*etty sa/lng ? jilted, is it V Jilted I was : I say it for your ^)eace. Pain'd, ^id, as bearing in myself the shame The woman should have b5rne,* jmnA lia tod j J lived for years a s^nte<l ; « Till after our good parents ))a«fc away Watching ycuir growth, 1 seem’d afi^ain to grow. Leolin, T almost sin in envying you : SCO The very whites t lamb in all my £l)ld Loves you: I know her: the worst thought she has Is whiter even than her pretty liaiid : She inust,«J>rove true : fc»i , brother, whoi'e two hght The strongewt wins, and truth and love are stiength, And you are liappy»: lot her parent!^ bPf’ But 1/eolin cried the more upon them — Tnsoleia, brainless, heartless ! heiress, wealth, Their wealth, their heiress ! wealth enough was theirs For twenty matches.* Were ho lord of this, 370 Why twenty feoys and girls should marry <a> it . And forty blest ones bless him, and himself " pljk wealthy still, ay wealthier He believed V liiiB filthy iiYf.rri^«.hin^l^ring MftaMCttap made ' The har)io t of the cities : nature crost Was mother oj the foul adulteries iritot satuiSite soul with bodv. •jlTame, tool namOi AYLMKHS VlKhD. 13 Thefr aiidcnt name ' they nught proud ; its worth IVas fl>ciiig Edith’s Ah hdvv pale she had look’d Darling, to-night ! they must liave rated her 380 iBeyoiid all tolerance. • The^e old pheasant-lords, iThese partindge-bieeders of a thousand years, (Who had mildew’d in their thousands, doing nothing jSi||iCc Egbert — why, the greater their disgrace I ,l<^i]l back upon a name *®rest, lot in that ♦ SNot keep it ^oble, make it nobldl* ^ fools, IWilmsiwti a vantage -gi omul foi nobleness ' ile had\nowu a man, a quintessence of man, “The* life cf all -who ifiadly* loviSd — and he, Thwah*ted by one of^lhe.se old father-fools, 390 flad rioted his life out, amV made an end. He wouTd not do it ! Jfier sweet face and faith Held him froi#* fhat he had poweis, he knew it • iliack wouhl lie to Ids studies, make a name, Name, fortune too . the world should ring of him lb shame these mouldy Aylmeis in their* graves Chancellor, or what is greatest would he be— ‘O brother, I am grieved to learn your grief- Give mo my fling, and let me say say.’ At which, like one that sees his own excess, 400 And easily forgives it as his own, ^ He laugh’d ; and then was ^te ; bttt presently Wept like a storm : and honest Averill seeing How low his biother^s mood had fallen, fetch’d His richest ^bees win g from a binn reserved For banquets, praise<l the waning red, and told The vintage — when tfiif Aylmer came of “Then drank and# past it ; till at length tb$^Wo, I'ho’ ^eolin flamed and again, agreed ^ That muclr allowance must sbo made fw^mem 14 AYLMKirS FIELD. After aii angry dream kindlier glow Faded with momiiig, but his jfiirpoae lield. Yet once by night again the lovers met, A perilous meeting under the tall pines That darken’d all the northward of her Hall. Him, to her meek and modest bosom prcst In agony, she promised that no force, Persuasion, no, nor <leath could alter her ; He, passirmately hopefullei^ would go, Labour for his own Edith, an<l returi^ 420 ^ such a sunlight of prosperity Se should not be rejected. * 'fTrite to me I They loved me, and because I love^ their child They hate mo ; there is war between us, de&r, Which breaks a^li bonds but ours ; we must remain Sacred to one another.’ So they talk’d, Poor chihlren, for their comfort : the wind blew The rain heaven, and tlieii* own bitter tears. Tears, and the careless rain of heaven, mixt U^on their faces, af they kiss’d each other 430 In darkness, ^d above them roar’d the pine. So Loolin went; i|^'as we ta^k .auraebtes To learn a languagie^^%own but spiat^tey j n g^v In phrases here and there at rantlom, toil’d Mastering the lawless science of our law, That mynad of preced ent, ’ffUlJWSft.of Siasds iMstaudeS, ‘•Tliro’ whicU<lk by wit or fortune led« Difoy beat f. psj^hway out to wealth and f^e. jesta, that dash ’d about th^ pleader’s room,y 440 AYLMEIt’S EJKLD. 15 Lightning of th« hour, 0e i>ua^ tW aiaiia:ilplJaJaiilej- Old fiC£ltU<l^]s Imricd now s^*yen decays deep In other scandals tViat ha\o bved and died, Aiul Igft th<^llym^^ai^alKl«^^ tliat shall die — Weie ffcad « to him already ; bent as he was To make disproof of hcom, and stiong in hopes, Atpd prodigal of all hrain-laboin he, C^harier of siee]>, and wi^le, aiuLexeroise, ►Except wheii for a bicathing-wMe at eve, Some niggard fraction of* an hour, lie ran 150 »Beaide Ihe river-bank : and then indeed ' Haider the times wefb, ai-d th*e hands of ])ower Wer^ bloodier, and ^the according liearts of men •SeemVl hoarder too ; but tb^^ soft river-bree^se, Whjich ?arm*4 lival ipgj Yet fr acfran t in a hear* lemombering I His former talks with Edith, on him breathed Far purelier in Ids lushings to and fro, After his books, to fl^h his blood with^ir, Then to his books again. My lady's cousin, 4(»0 Half -sicke iiin g of his pension'd afternoon, * » Drove in upon the student once or tw^ce,* Han a Mala yan amuc k against the times, • Ilaid golden ho])es for France and all mankind, Answer'd all queries touching those at liome With a heaved shoulder and a saUi<^ sndle, And fain liad h^ed him out into ^orld, And airtd him there : his nearer mOAd would say ‘Screvf hot the chord too sharply lest it siyip.' Then left alone he pluck’d her dagger forth 470 From where his worldless l|^rt had kept it waim, Kissing his vows upon it like a knight. And wrinkled often talk'd of him *App|^vingly, and prophemed his rise : ^ For heart, I think, help'd «head : her letters tOo,^ 16 AYLMER’iS FIELD. Tlio’ far between, and cctiiiiig fitfully Like broken music, written as slio found Or made occq^sioii, being strictly watch’d, CharjuM him thro' every labyrin th^ tiff he saw An end, a hope, a light breaking ‘ upon him. 480 But they that cast her spirit into flesh, Her worldi^^-wiae begetteilfe, pJLafillfisi tbemselve# To sell her, those good parents, ftA' her good. Whatever eldcst-boni of rg,nk or wealth Might lie%rithin their cornffass, 4iim they lured Into their net made pleasant by the j^^ts Of gold and beauty, wooing hir% to woo. So month by month the noise about t their doors, And distant blaze of those dull banquets, maiJ.e The nightly wirer of their innocent t^af e^ 490 Falter before he took All in vain. Sullen, defiant, pitjing, wroth, return'd Leolin's rejjptcd rivals from their suit So often, that^the folly taking wings Slipt o’er those lazy ^irnits down tlie wind With rumour, and became in other fields A mockery to the yeomen over ale. And laughter to their lords ; but those at home, As hunters round a hunted creature draw I'he cordon close and closer toward the death, 5p0 Narrow’d her goings oUt and comings in; Porbad&her first^the house of Averill, Then closed her access to the wealthier farui^. Last from her own home-circle ^f the poor They barr’d her : yet she bore it : yet her cheek Kept colour : wondrous ! but, O mystery I • dr^w her down to that old oak, So old, that Jbwenty years before,, a imrt AYLMER’ifS FIELD. 17 Falling lia<l let ai)}>eai' tli» l ^^ ud of John — Onre gr<>velik(», each huge ai*m a tiee, but now 510 "I'lie broken base of blnt'k to'\\er, a cave Of touchwood, with a single flourishing Theie the luaiioTial lord too curiously • liaking in that millennial touch wood -dust tfftund for hiiiiself a bitt#»r treasure j£oye ; t ^ Bill si his ourn wyveru on the se^l, and le.'ul Wijthin^ a letter from Itfs child, for which Cyanic ali the moment Leolin’s emissar^% Ta t»ij)pled lad, and (^•miujit turn’d to lint with threats of jail ami halter gave 520 *^ro him that; flustej’d his poor parish wdts The let tier which he brought, and swore besides To play their go- bet ecu as lieretofore or let them know ll^^iuselvea betiay’d; and then, ^oul-strickeiJ at their kimlness to hiiii, went Hating his own lean heart and miserable^ ^ Thenceforward oft from out a despot dream Tlu'^father panting woke, and oft, as dawn Aroused the black republic on his elms. Sweeping the fi othfly irom the fescue brushM ' i30 Thro’ the dim meadow toward his treasure-tiove, Seized it, ^ took home, aud to my lady,—- who made A downward crescent of her jguuion mouth, Listless in all despondence, — read ; and tore, As if the living ^jpiiardon sym^d’d thei'o Were living nerves to feel the ren t ; and burnt, iftTow chafing at Ips own great self defied, Now striking on huge stumbling-blocks of sjoin Jn babyisms, and dear diiHinutive^ ^Scatter’d all over the*vp<aityila,vy 540 18 AYLMER’S FIELD. •o Of Hiicli a love as like a chidden child, After Ttiuch wailincf, hushed itself at Iasi Hopeless of answer: then the* Aveiyll wrote And with good heart "’sustain hhnscif — All would bo well -iho lover heeded not, But passionately restless came and went, And rustling once at night about the place. There by a keej^er sliot ^at, slightly hurt, Ihiging returii*d : nor was i( ’weil for her Kept to the gai'dcn now, and grove of pines, WatcliM^even there ; andoone«|Wa8 fl*et to watch The watclier, and Sir Aylmcr^watch’dl them all, Yet bitterer from bis reading's : once indeed, Waini^d with bis wines, or taking^ pride in her, * She look’d so sweet, he kiss’d her tmderly^ Not knowing wdiat possess’d him . ^-hat one kiss Was Leoliii’s one ationg rival upon earth ; Seconded, for mn lady follow’d suit, ^ Sj^eiu'd hepe’a ^I'eturning ^rose ; and then ensued A ^lartiu’s sumtnor^of his faded love. Dr ordeal by kindpess ; after this He seldom ci\>st his child without a sneer ; The mother flow’d in shallower acri peonie s : Nevermore kindly smile, one kindly word : So that the gentle creature shut from all Her charitable use, and face to face With twenty months of silence, slowly lost Nor greatly prod to lose, her bold on life. ^ Last, some low fever ranging round to sj>y The weakness of a people or^ a house, Like flies that haunt a wound, or deer, or men, Or almost all that is, hurting the hurt — Save Christ SjS wo believe him— ;found the girl Ami fliinjc down upon a o^^uch of fire, Where careless of the household fades near. 19 AYIiMER’§ FIELD, •• And crying upon the nauke of licolin, She, *and with her the race, of Aylmer, past. Star to star vibrates light : may sotJ to soul Strike thro’ a finer element of her own ? siJ!- -from afar, — touch aii at once ? or why 580 That night, ^hat moment, when ||[ie named his name, Did^ th# JIfeen shriek love, yes, Edith, yes/ Shrill, till the comrade of his chambers woke, f^D<^Gamc U]:>p n h im Isalf-ai^sen^^roni sleep, With,aVeTOTiIg&» eye, sweating and trembling, Jlis hair as it were crackliiig into fiatfies, His body half flung forward in pursuit, And his long arms stretch’d as to grasp a flyer : Nor knew he Vherefpi^ he liad made the cry ; \iid being mucli befool’d and idioted 690, By the rough amity of the other, sank As into sleep again. The second day, My lady’s Indian kinsman rushing in, A breaker of the bitter new^s from bogie, Found a dead man, a letter edge<l with death Beside him, and the dagger which himself Gave Edith, redden’d with no. liaudit’s blood ; ‘From Edith’ was engraven on the blade. • . Then Averill went and gazed npon his ije aAh. And when he c&me his flock believedr— ; 600 Beholding hbw the veais . Which are not Time’s Had blasted him — tli^ many thousand days T^ere jj)ipt/by fagrjc^. froni his te|^ of l^e. "^Set the sad '^or tlie second death ^ Scaxue'-touch’d . her . thx^6^ tllat nearness of the first And being used, to Bixd: her xi^Ur texts, ^ 20 AYLMER’S FIELD. Sent to the harrow’d brother, »prayinj? him To sf»eak before tlie peoi)le of her child, Aiij.1 fixt the jgo<b.]btatb. rose Autumn’s mock sunshine w tl/e" faded wood s ’ v 610 Was all the life of itj for har d on these, A breathless burthen of low-fol<led heavens Stifled and chill’d at once ; btttftcvery roof Sent out a listener : m^i^' too had known Edith among the hatiilots round, and since The parents’ harsh]^ess and the hapless loves And dofrble death were yidel^ mirmiir’d, left Their own gray tower, or plain-faced tabernacle. To hear liim ; all in mourning these, and thoa< ^ With bh)ts of it about them, ribboivrslOY;^^ 620 Or kei’chief ; while the church, — one night y except For greenish glimmerings thro’ thg lancets, — made Still paler the pale head" of him, wdio towe r’i Above them, with his hope^ in eitUer grave. Long o’er his b*nt brows linger’d Averill, ‘ Behold, Your house is left unto yon desolate!’ ^^a»pa^d into .so long a pause again As half amazed half frighted all his flock : Bore dow n jqL and dash’d his angry heaH A«aiart“Se_<^sola!®on%,, sf . Jlsg, jESScld- 630 Never since oUr bad earth M'came ope sea. Which rjlling o’er the palaees^ of tht proud, AYLMKR\S FII^Ll). 21 An9. all Init those who ki^w the*1iving God — Kiglfb that were left to make a purer world — When shiee h^d earthquake, thunder, wrought Such w^sCe ancl aff the idolatries, 640 vWhich froni the low light of mortali ty^ Shot up tlieir shadows to the Heaven of Heavens, 4-<^d worshipt their own ^larkness in the HigJiest ? Gash thyself priest^ ^ and honour thy brute Baal, *And tci^tliy worst self sacrifice ttiyself, For witj;i thy worst self hast thou clothed thy God jGljein a Lord ii^ no wise, like to BaiiL The b^e ^nall lead^the' lioi|j »4urely now • The wilderness g^^l^,l>]oaso|n'' as ^le ^"ose^ ^ \?mwn tjjiyself, worn/. " an^d ^'^ofah^j^ th i he own ^usts. ! — 650 No' coarse and block ish God of Acreage 4 Stands at thy^gate for thee to gipjjl to- Cxod is far difFuseTl in nobh? groves An<l princely halls, and farms, anti flowing lawns, And heaps of living gold that daily giow, And title-scrolls and gorgeous her aldries. In such a shape dost thou behold thy Gotl. Thou wilt not gash thy flesh for hfm;^foY t ^iiiie Fares richly, in fine linen, not a hair «3RuAed upon the scarfskin, even while The deathless ruler.^ of thy <iyhig hpu si| Is wounded to the death that cannot ^dje^; And tho’ thou numbor^ st with tlio JoITowerH Of One who cried, “ Leave all and follow me ” ■ yhee therefore with His light about thy feef, Thee with His message ringing in thine ears, Thee shall thy brother man, •the Lord from Heaven, 660 porn of a village girl, carpenters son, Vonderful, Prince of peace, the Mighty God, jJciyanJ^the more base idol&ter of the two ; • Crueller : as not nassins thfo’ the fire 670 22 AYLMER’S FIELD. Bodies, but souls — ^thy *childrein^ — thro’ the smoke, The blifi^ht of low desires — darkening thiuc ogp To thine own likeness ; or if one of these, Thy better born unhappily fronV thee, Shoidd, as by mirajrde, grow straight and fair— Friends, I was bid to speak of such a one By those who most have cause sorrow for her — Fairer than Rachel by tjie palmy well, Fairer thA Ruth among the fields of corn, ^ 680" Fair as the Angel that said she seem’d,. Who entering fill’d the h 9 use with ,^udden light. For so mine own was brighten’d r where indeed The roof so lowly but that beam of Heaven Da wn’d sometime thro’ the dciorway ? whose the .babe Too ragged to be foudlecibn her lap, Warm’d at her bosom? The pooit child of fehame The common care whom no one cared for, leapt To greet her, wasting his forgt»tteu heart, As with fho mother he hacl never kiiowri, 690 In gambols ; for her fresh and innocent eyes Had such a star of morning in their blue, -Kiat all neglect,*^ ®^l^c^o£ th^c>ld Broke into nitur e’s mitsic when they saw her. Low was her voice, "Xut won mysterious way -Thro’ the seal’d ear to which a loiider one Was all but silence — free of alms her liaiui — The hand that robed your cottage-walls with flowers Has often toil’d to clothe your little ones; How often placed ^npon the sick man’s brow 700 Cool’d it, or laid his fevi^oiis pillpw smooth ! Had you one sorrow and she shared it not? One burthen and she would not lighten ? One spititoal doubt slie did. not soothe? Or when some/ he^t pf differetwfe^ sparkled out, How sWi^tiy would she glide between yonr Wraths, AYLMER’S FIELD. 23 Ami steal you from each other I Ar she walk’d Wearing the light yoke cS tliat Lord of love, Who still’d the rolling wave of Galilee ! ‘ And one — of him I ^aa ^jot hid to speak — 710 Was always with her, whom you also knew. Him too you loved, for he was worthy love. ^id these had been together from the first ; i pight J^ave b^en^ together till the last. Frienc||i, tlm irojl l^a^ m ours, •when sorely ti'ied. May wyeck itself without the pilot's gnilt, W^hout the captain’s knowledge : hope with nij. Whose skame is thjt, if ifb wAt hence with shame? Nor mine the fault, if losing both of these J ^ry J^c»nt,chairs ahdi wi|iow’d wa,lle, 720 "My house is left unto me d^olate.”’ ^ While thus he spoke, his hearers wept ; but some, Sons of the glebe , with other frowjis than thcjj^e That knit tliSn^lvea for summer shadow, scov^’d At their great lord. He, when it seam’d he saw No pale sheet-lightnings from afar, but forc’d OL'the near storm, and aiming at his head, Sat anger-charm'd ixxun sorrow, soldier-li^^^^,^^ Erect : but when J^he preacher’s cadence flowjd Softening tiro’ all the gentle attributes 730 Of his Jbst efaild, the wife, who watch’d his face, Paled at a sudden twitch of his iron mouth ; And ‘O pray tjfod that he hold up’ she thought ‘Or eurel^ t shall shame itself and him.’ ^ Nor yours the blamsiKfor who beside your hearths Can take her pkice^if echoing nie you cry, 2i AYLMER’S FIELD, " Our house is left unto*«8 desolate ” ? But thou, O thou that killest, hadst thou known, O thou that stonest. hadst thou understood The ^things belonging to thy pea/^e and ours ! 740 Is there no prophet but the voice that calls Doom upon kings, or in the waste “ Repent ” ? Is not our own child on the nar^pw way, Who down to those that saurfj^er in the broad ' Cries “Come up hither,” fis a prophet to us? ^ Is there no stoning save with flint and rock? Yes, as tl^e dead we weep for testify — No desolation but by sworfi and fire? ^ Yes, as your meanings witness, and myself Am lonelier, darker, eartWie^ fer my loss. ^ 750 Give me your prayer^ is past your prayers, Not past the living tSmt 6£ pity in Heaven But I that thougflF mysefif long-suffeS'ing, meek, Exceeding “poor in spirit” — how the words Have twisted bact upon themselves, and mean Vileneas, ^ are grown so proud — I wi‘?h’d my voice A rushing tempest of the wrath of God To blow these 'sacrifiPjes thro’ the world — SeiS; like the tWelve-divided concubine To inflame the tribes : but there — out yonder — earth TtiO Lightens from her own central Hell — O there The red fruit of an old idolatry — Tlie heads of chiefs and princes fall so fast, They cling together in the ghastly sack — The land all shambles — naked marriages ^ Flash from the bridge, and ever-murdeFd Franqp, By shores that darken with thfe gathering wolf, Buns in a river of blood to the sick sea. la this a time to madden madness then? Was this a timr for these to their pride? May Phataii^h’s darkness, folds as dens^ as those •770 AVLMKR'S field. 25 Whwh hid the Holiest from the yiople’s eyes Ere tjie great death, shroud this great sin from all ! J doubtless our nai-row , world must canvass it: O rather pray for thdhe and pity them, Who, thro* .their own desire accomplish^, bring Their own gray hairs with soirow to tfie grave — WJ^o broke the bond which they desired to break, "VV^hich else had link’d thSir race with times to come — •Who wove Aarse webs to snare dker purity, *780 Grossly cf>ntriving their i^ear daughter’s good — ^oor soifls, and knew not what they did, but s«t "Ignorant, ^^evising the^r o\%%i daughter’s death ! ^May not that earthlj^ chastisement suffice? ^ idave not our love and revyence left them bare ? Will r\of another take their heritage? Will there be^children’*: laughter in, their hall JPor ever and for cvei’f or one stone Left on another, or is it a light thing That I, their guest, their host, their ancfhnt friend, 790 T made by these the last of all my race, Must cry to these the last of theirs, as cric<l Christ ere His agony to those that sw#ro Not by the temple but the gold, and made • Th^r own traditions God, and slew the Lord, And left their memoi'ies a world’s curse — “Behold,* Your house is left unto you desolate ” ? ’ Ended he had not, but she brook’d no mq}*e : Long since her heart had beat remorselessly, Her crampl-up sorrow patn’<i her, and a sense 800 Of meanness in her unresisting life. •Then their eyes •vext her ; for on entering tie Ivtd cast the curtain%^£ their seat asid%— * Blaek" velvet of the costliest — she herself 26 AYLMKRVS FIEIJ) riiul seen to tbnt : faiiij^bad *^be closo<l thoin now, Yet daied not stii to do it, mily near’d H(»r bnsbaiul inch by indi, but ■when she laid, Wi^eliko, her band in one of his, 1^' veiVd His faee with the othei*, and at onre, o&.falljcv A creeper when tJio prop is broken, fell 810 Tbt‘ woman shrieking at his feet, and swoonM. Tlteii Jier own people bore alonj^ the nave Ilc'i pendent hands, aiidt narrow ipeagre facet SeamM with the shallow cares erf fifty years : And her the Lord of all the lands^aj^o round Kv*n to •its last horizon, and mf all* Who peei’’d at him so k<‘enly, follo'w^d out Tall and erect, but in the n^dd^e aisle ReeVd, as a footsore ox in crowdetl ways Stumbling across the market to his ileath,^ 820 llnpitied ; for he groped as blind, tnd seem’d Always about to fall, grasping the i)ews An<l oaken (iuiais till he touehVl the door ; Yet to t^e lychgate where his chariot stood, Strode from the porch, tall and erect again. liut nevermore did either pass the gate S«ive vmder pall with l)earer8. In one month, Thro* weary and yet ever wearier hours, The <‘hildloss mother went to seek her child ; And when he felt the silence of hiS house 830 About him, aj^d the change and not the change, And tbost» fixt eyes of painted ancestors Staring for over from their gilded walls On him their last dm-en^lant, his owti hea(i B^gan to drooj), to fall ; the man tiecann* Iinbo<^lle j his /me word was ^d^^iolate;’ Deafl for j;wo years before his, death was he ; AYLMKR»S FIKLD. 27 Biif. when the second Christmas ^me, escaped His •keepers, and the silence which he felt, To find a deeper in the narrow gloom 840 By wife and child ; ^lor panted at his end The dark Tetinue reverencing death At golden thresholds ; nor from tend<fk' heaits, ^id those who sorroViJ o’er a vanish’d race, Pity, the violet on the tyrant’s grave. Then the ^eat Hall was whoU|^ broken down, And t^e broad woodland parcell’d into farms ; Ai^ where the two ^contrived their daughter’s good, Lies theehawk’s cast, the^niola has made his if in, The hedgehog underneath the plantain bores, 850 * The rajpbit fondles his Iiarmless face, The slow-worm creeps, and tire thin weasel there Foiled the %nonse« and all is open field. NVOTES. 1. Dust are our frames etc. The niora^of the poefti is given in the opening lines ; Man is but a creature of the dust ; his pride of wealth or ancestry is mi^rably vain an<l transient, —ra ' fair outside, which shrinks into nothingness when broi%ht into contact with ^e stern realities and mighty events of human life. Cf. Bible, And the Lord God fomed man of the dust of the ground ” ; and ih, iii. 19 : “ I>ust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.” Note that ‘^gilded dust ” and “ pride ” are in apposition to each other. 3. Like that lonir-hurieil body etc. An experience of this kind followed th^opeiiing of an Etruscan tomb at the ancient city of Tarquinii, near Corncto, in Italy, The discovery was made by Carlo A vvolta, a native of Corneto. While digging into a burial- mound for stones to in^d a road, Signor A vvolta broke into the toinb of auKtrusean Lucvimo or prince. I beheld,” he says, “ a warrior stretched on a couch of rock, and in a few minutes I saw him vanish, as it were, under my eyes, for as the atmosphere en- tered the* sepulchre, the armour, thoroughly oxidised, crumbled away into most minute particles : so that in a short time scarcely a vestige of what I had seen was left on the couch.” The golden crown worn by the dead prince was fio fragile that ayt but«^a small portion of it crumbled into dust on its vray to Home. 6. BUpt, glidedi cxuwddgd un awa res. The word well expresses the suddenness and unexpect^nessl^ the pheiiomehoi^ 8. gxlBzled, gray -haired. From French gne, gray. 10. a mine of memories, full of information almut old events, things remembered. 12. Aad been biljtiself etc. ..The oldgfiian had himself been pre^ sent at the events he relates." Cf. Vergil, JSlneid^ il. Q i . Quorum pars magnm^/tiU ot which t (ijEnSas) was a great pa:^; and 28 ' NOTES. 29 Ulyasen, IK : ** 1 am a part of all thtft I have met.” Similarly JlyVoii {Childe Hrtrohf, iii. 72)*writoa : “ 1 live not in myaelf, l»nt I become I’ortio^ of that aronml me.” ] 3. Sir Ayhner Aylmer. Notice the reclpplicatcd Norman name, tlic (^Ijrifltiaii or personal name being the Same as tlic family name, almighty, aii epithet ordinarily confined t<i^he Deity, it leads np to the ap))ellation (“ <#pd ”) in the next line. • ^4. The county God, lookttl iip to and almost worshipped hy ^everyone in t^e county ns Ihe supreme authority. 15. shields, on whieh were blazoned the arms of his aneostors. i These sliiJuds were hung, in the piclnro, from the branelies <>f llio tree, th^ family tree etc, 'I'ho genealogical tree of his family was ilcpiolod as growing onta>f th^ chest of its royal founder, repre- sented as %’ing on hia back. Tho*midrlff or diaphragm is the inusele that separates uic chest from the abdomen. • 17. wyvom, a kind of two-lqgged dragon common in heraldry. 1''hc word is a doublet of nper. blazing, because it was gilded, nntl flashed in the sunlight, woathercock’d the spire. The figure of a wyvern foifnetl the \ ;\ne or weathercock on the spiic of Ihc gjastlc tower. Weat?ifrwo!^' {f.e, wind-cock) has come to }>o synonymous with vane, bei'ause the vane was often in the form of a cock. ^ 18. Stood from, was depicted in relief upon, winged, sur- mounted with its winded form. V 10. Bwang, arcnalc ^for Hwumj, The w^yverii, as a prominent part of the Aylmer iirii is, was freqneiitljr us^l as a sign by the inns in the county, windy, bccanso iuu signs* are often susjicmlpd by iron books from horizontal bars affixed to lofty ix>sts in ilie opeh road in front of the inns, stpd ^ are exposed to the wind. CJf. hovlcHley Hall Sixty Yeart> Aftet\ ^7 : “ There is one old Hostel left us whcie they swing the Locksley shield.” Whose, i,e. Sir Aylmer’s, pyramidal, rising to a point, like * % pyramid. The long, narrow head points to the intellectual narrowness of the man. 21. Saw from etc., f.r. all the land within sight round his hall was his owrf property. 22. The subject of the sentence, “ Sir Aylmer Aylmer,” is re- j[>eated in the ** he ” of this line. fe 24. fegrettoHy.* His love for her was mingled with regret that he hod not been a boy insf^d of a g|rl. • 25. ha that marries dto. , tlip man that manies Edith shall take the name of Aylmer, so that the Aylmer name may^ot become extinct* 30 AYLMER\S FIP:LD. 20 h flat, deoreo, Lat. HM, * let it be done,’ 8rd person singular, present Hiibjunctive, of ^o. Similarly formed substantives are <xff (* Le gooM out ’), flefidt (‘it is wanting’), nde^'isf (* it is pro- fit ible’)* • a faded beauty of the Batbs. She had formerly t>een a belle j*t tlie fashionable wratering-plaees, such as C^oltenhani or Tunbiidge Wells, birt had now lost lior good looks. 28. Insipid etc*., as ^ctcrlcs^ as the figure of the <[ueen on a )daying^ca^ ^ • 29. Her all .. sun, the snni total of her ii^lligenc'o und^ beha\ unir being little better than a feeble reflection cd tlior bus- band. sickly, faint, shining through n veil of mist or cuond Cf. C/amp>>ell, The lja>st Mmiy 1 1 : “ The Sun’s eye had a sieUSy glare 31. A Iflnd of hops. HopFyire g^‘own fn^tlie Houth of Kngfand, espeeially in Kent and Sussex, poppy-mlnffled. Tlfe pop[>y, a Moot'd wit h a bright i ed flower, often grows wild in Kiiglish wlic'at- ' fields. The scone of the story i|^ placed in soutlieru rural Kng * landj, tlie dullest and quiotcat part gfthe.COMlltiar. 33. sleepy, sluggisli, stHtionary, behind the times. See 1. 45. 35. Where almost etc. The villagers had so littlo intercourso witl) the outside world that they mostly intermarried tviih one* another^ and s(» thc*y nearly oil had the some name. 3fl-38. Where A^^lmer Thrice over. Threegeuoraiionsofeon- tem]Hu ary #\y liners and Averills had follow’^ed one another at the Hall and (Tic Keidory respectively. 39. Bound in etc., united together by a friendship of very long Rtn^iding. Sec 1. 130^ 40. open to each other. The inmates of Rectory and Hall interchanged visits freely. • 41. That Love... closer, that there could ]>e any intermarriage between the two families, well had made, would certainly have made. 42. bristle up, an effect commonly attributed to fear of horj^pr. CJf. vShaks. i. v, 18-20, where the Ghost buys he could un- fold a tale whiejj^ would make “ Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each |>articnlar hair to stand an end,^ Like quills upon the fratful porpeutine. ” And Bible, •fob iv. 15; “Then a spirit passed before m^^fooe the hair <if my flesh Btoo<l up.” 44, 45. sons of men BaUgliters 40^ God. Of Bible, Gmesia, vi 2 s SOPS of God saw daughters of men that they were fair : and they took them wives of all which they chose.^' Jjtt the “ inverted sorig^ro,” the term “ sons of gien ” (instead NOTES. 81 wnucdin ‘^liaufiyptei’S of Coa ’ tmstea4 of aaugoters of men ) thejeinaiea houae atfiiHeil to. "" 46-48. ftobably Aveiiilb if be bad wished, might, like ^ir Aylmer, have placed on tlie«wsltlls of hi» humbler abode his genealogical tree with numerous coats 6f arms suspended from it. See 1. 15. ^ ^ 50-52. WHeil^tlie red .. to death, «.e^in the times of the W ars of » the Rosea Jbptweeii the houses of York and Lianwister. redder than itself, redder (with blood) tban it w’as by natuie. Of. 1. 455: ^'^hat rival loso.’* With woUhded peace etc. , yjfjLth Jho 9iviJj!3ij!t:0ld.J!^ war%ra qf, which jsAch hiKd^sm ibe c aiise . Cf.*8haks. F. t. ii. 34; “Naked, poor, and efhangled peace.’’ s 53. *Kot proyen, ^ *.c. Aver^y’s verdict on the fpicsiion of whether tfiere had been . a marriage between the two families, was that the case was pre-ped. Scotch law allows the verdict ‘ Not piioven/ u^on the, ja.a opposed^ to the iiioral) evidence not jspihcient for a conwiction, in addition to the ‘Ouilty’ and * Not guilty ’ of English law. The past porticipial form ]frovtn illustrates the tendency of Northern Biitain t<^ turn weak verbs into strong ones ; of. Scoteh piitiem (for pw/), H/ten (for lifted), iiwtcUum, ifor Hweaied), % 56- Be loan’d etc., he desire<l to be esteemed for his own merits and not for his Uncage. 59. Call’d to the bar. To qualify for a call to4he bar {i\e, fBr becoming a barrister), a law-student has to keep 12 terms at one of tlfe Inns of Court. See 1, 105 an<l note. For the repetition of call’d in this line, see note to 1. 487. * 60. one low voice, i.e, the soft voice of Edith. Cf# Maud, Part II. iv, 5 : “ The delight pf low replies ” (said of lovers’ talk). 6iP»A distant kinship etc. LeoUn, unlike Ayerill, would often claim a distant blood- relationship with Edith, whose gentle heart beat faster with loving emotion as she list^ed to. what he said. ^ , 64. Sangttiiia,' of a ruddy coiaploxloh, fresh-coloured. Bhak- spere (1 /Venty VI. tv. i, 92) applies the epithet to the leaves of a rose. ^ but, only, Just. idlet/the bright-red centre of the blossom of the chestnut jC^lAStiiat < short for^SbeBiisr^ztM* f'hesim i^presenting the liot. Oa^imett; if^in CTaatana, a city in Pontu^ wher^ chestnut trees abound^. Ikumm (Bamaseus) and peach (PerSicas) have a similar deHv|tion. ; 32 AYLMER’S FIELD. 66. stm, ever, continfirMly. ^ 67. Joyful ...Joyful. See note to 1. 487. 88. Beneatb etc., from underneath a flowing mass of golden liiVr as thick as a lion’s mane. Cf. Th% Princess ^ VI. 148 : Lioness-, That with yQur long locks play the Lion’s inane ! ” 69. Their best and brightest, Le. his ^yes sparkled most tenderly and brightly of all wlien they looked into her eyes. In ‘ beiftnLVl their best (beaming) ’ tlierc is an ellipse of the cognate object, as in * he tried his hardest (tjj-ying),* ‘ he breathed hl6 las^( breath)?* 70. Sdith, in apiwsition with her hi ’). pensive beauty etc. Her face would l^vc been perfectly l^eautf^ ful but fbr its somewhat sa4 expfhssion. ^ ^ ^ / 71. subject to etc., readily influcnceSl by circumstance^ feelings ; cf. 11. 75-77. " % 72 Shone like a niystic st£r etc. Her beauty more striking at one time than at another, [like the variable star of Astrtniomy with its maxima and muiinia of briyhtnesa, H. T.] The term ‘ glory,’ for brightness, is adopted from Bible, 1 Coi^ XV. 41 : “One star differeth from another star in glory,” 74. bounteously made, [healthfully and beautifully made. H. T.] Cf. 1. 107. 75. so dnely. Her frame or constitution was so delicate and sensitive. 77. A joyous etc.,^ joyful influence seemed to make her form ekpand, as a flower opens when turned to the sunlight. So, under the influence of love and faith, Laodamia’s “bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows ” (Wordsworth, Laodamm^ il). 80. bo much the boy foreran, Leo! in was so much (viz. flve years) older than Edith, date, age. 82. decad, an aggregate consistmg of ten ; here, teij years. It is usually spelt deci de ; b\it Tennyson jirefers the spelling as placing the acceiiton the first syllable ; cf. Milton’s hrigad for the modern hrif^ade {Par, Lost, II. 5:12). pa rsed as adyepbjLal objectives of Amount or Degree. 85, 86. with her dipt...prcme swing, the swift downward (“prone”) motion of the swing made the air rush against their faces. Note the rhythm of 1. 86, with its unusual number of un- accented syllables expressing rapid motion ; Isee Oenerat Intro- duction, p. xix,(j8). iScan ; ^ • “ Against [ the rdsh | of the air | in the | prdue swing.” 87. blodlom-ball, flowers with* their interlaced stalks, all gatliered to the centre j^nd the blossoms outside, ^ as to form a Nm’E8. 33 ball *of bloHboiii. daisy chain, daisiesilKrith their stalks fastened togethci l>y beiii#? inserted iiitft one anothex through holes made in Ccicli stdlk, 80 as to make a chain or festoon. 83. 80 W*d her name ate. He planted seeds (of cress, ate.) in lines and circles represeniinje the letters of her name, so that, when they grew up, the woid &dtth appealed in green characters. 90. fairy footings, circled of rank grass, once supjposed to be produced by tibe daithk^ of fairies ou the spot, but now kfxtlvn to be the result of tne circular propagation of a fungus below the surface, the decay of which tnauutvs the soil and %o makes thd^grass grow thickei. •Cf. Shaks. Tempest, v. i. 36^38 “ You demi-puppets that By inoonshine^o thg greem sour ringlets maHh, Whereof th^ewo not bites.” M/erry Wives of Windsor, v, v, C9, 70 : ‘i{ And nightly, meiido#-fairieB, look you sing, Like to the Garter’s compass, in a ring.” And Midsummer JN^if/hi's j>cam, ii. i. 88: “ To danoc our rftiglets to the whistling wind.” Also Drayton’s Symphidki, 69-72 : And in their courses make that Bound, In Meadowos and in Marshes found, Of them so call’d the Fa^ iie gioiind.” 91, 92. fkiry palms fairy pines. The c^slip, w.... straight stalk and cluster of drooping floweis at^tixe tojx, look^ m the children’s fancy, like a miniature palm tioc; the marc’s- tail, Vith its erect stm and wlioils or hoiizontal outgrowth of Iccnes at short intervals, looks like a miniutuio pinr-treo.* The cotiimon Mare’s-tail {liipjmn'i Vnlgarts) ic plentiful not only in (Jreat Britain but till oughout Eumpe and North America. For fadry, cf. The Brook, 45 : Many a faiiy foreland.” ^93!"%e^iny pitted target etc. Some flowers, like the <lande> lion, when run to seed, bear a fanciful resemb^nce to little targets stuck full df minute, feathered arrows. Vi, The Poet, 19: **1316 arrow-«eeds of the field flower.” English children are fond of blow ing off these feathery se^ds, the number of whifls that it takes to disengage them all Issing supposed to represent wihat o’^ock it is the time. Pitted, full of little hollows (w^ere ijxo seeds are inserted), 96, make-believes. The eSfidreu pretended,’^ in their play, that tlie cowslips were fairy pakna, etc. 96. UxttfoA, made up^ invented ; used in a good sense here. 34 AYLMER’S FIELD. 97. But tbat frab lie made up and told )icr JdiCRo tales when he had grown somewhat older. 100. Crown’d, rewarded with succe.«ib. sketches, descriptions. 101. a passion yet unborn, a feelirg of love as yet un- developed. ^ 102. the music o^the moon, the song which the ni^itiiiji^ale sings to the moon or hy Tiioon-ligllt. Cf. Southey, liodcrick, XXI. ! (, • And now the nightingale ... poured I'o the cold moon a richer, stronger strait^ Than that with wnich tlie lyric lark salutW The new-born day. ” This song is represented as dormant in the egg till the young bird is iiatchea, and beco'nes hie Ia> sing it. plain. ^ Q^hc greenish-brown eggs of the nightingale ^‘^ive no outVard nigit of the harmony that lurks within them ; and similarly Leoliu'si “ rude sketclies ” gave no hint of their hidden passion. 105. Temple- eaten terms, terms spent in studying law at the Temple. Three dimiei*s at least Jiave or had to be eaten in Hall each term by the Temple law-studeiixs. Hence the phrase * to cat one’s terms,’ i.v. to be a^aw -student. The Inue^r and Ihe Middle Temple are two of the four Inns of Court in London confcrriih^* the degree of Barrister-at-law. 107. in lavisb bounty moulded, liberally endowed with beauty of form. ®Cf. “bounteously maile,” 1. 74. 108. the maiden woman-grown, when the maiden had grown ijito a woman ; — an » bsolute clause. 109. wasted,^ spent freely ; cf. 1. 689. MWe has little or no reproachful meaning here ; ef. Milton, Sonnet^ xx. 4 : * “ When shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Hedp waste a sullen day ? ” And Par. Lost. ii. 694-5 : “Here condemned To waste eternal days in woe and pain.” And $ir Lanc^ol and Queen (htinevtre^ 1. 44 : “ To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.” Tjcolitt used frequently to come and stay with his brother. First, spent the Kaster vacation with him ; next he came for the midsummer, and finally for the Christmas va^tion. * ^ 110. The tented winter- Held eV-l A hop-garden in . winter time, with the bop-poles stacked leaning against one 'aiiothcr in separ^ate, teni-.^^tiaped groups all over the gi’ound, is ooEupared to a field covered with the tents of an encamp- NOTES. 35 ing •army ; the same garden in 8]^Ang, with the hop- poles sot up to support the Btems,*is compared to an army in battle array with spears erect. 112. That soon should wear the garland, that were sooi^ in autumn, to be wreathed with flusters of hop-flowers. 113. Wheil burr and bine etc., when the hop-cones were g athered, and the stems removed from the *poles. Bun' la used ere for the rough, scalyecpne produced by the hop plant ; Imte fertile long twining stein,^much like that of the vine. Gf. wo^bine, * 116. p]^ 08 p]fbre 8 cence, luminosity fLs seen in sea water, and caused bj^tho presence of vast numbers of light giving animal- cules. Tke duf] monotony (like stagnant water) of life at the dfall^vas broken in iipoi%by tljp youthful spirits (like# rushing tide) of Lectin, with a sparkling gaitlly (like phospliorescence on the sea when its surfitcc is broken l>y waves) which was de- lightful even to the “insipid” Lady Aylmer. For a similar ifictaphor,^cf. 1. 633. 117, 118. yet^s yet, up till now, laid No bar between them, placed no prohibition upox* their intercourse. • 119, 120. bending ... wdrid, relaxing his dignified attitude so far as to treat mankind at lai’ge with a moderate amount of com- plaisance and approval, half-allowing, half-^proving. This allmo is from Lat, allaudare^ *to applaud,’ and differs from afloWy *to permit,’ from Lat. cUlocare, ‘to assign.’ Shaks. Troilua and C?'eaitida, III. ii, 97 : “Praise us as wo are tasted, allow us as we prove.” 121 mighty, mightily, very; said with some irony and perhaps with a play upon tlie other sense of the word. 12JT his pride etc., his pride was too deeply rooted Jp his character for him to make a display of it outwardly in his demeanour. 123. like an Aylmer In his Aylmerlsm, showing all the super- ci lious nonc halance or indiflerence that chaiacterised the Aylmer ra(i0.**""'Fd^the word Aylmerism, cf. Robert Browning’s (The Bing and the Booh^ V. 437) similar eoinage “ Franqjischinihood,” the dignity of the^Franceschini family ; and Cicero’s (Fam. HI, vii. 5) jocose ^formations, Appietaa ant Lentvlitm^ the nobility or grandeur of Appius or Lentulut. 125. Newfoundland’s, Newfoundland dog’s (walking with her), f<gp he rose eflb. The dog rose on his hind Ibgs at the end of his chain, barking in his eagg mess to accpmpahysthem in their walk. *• 1 28-132. how should Love ... ftaster of all. People (Sten fall I love with each other at their first casual ^eeting, when their 36 AYLMER’S FIELD. mutual glancea suddenl^' ^^indle «th6 flame of love ; but it is seldom that those who have been on familiar terms with each other from early youth (** dawn ”) become lovers. When, how- ever, that happens^ their love gains complete mastery over them, the croKB-llghtttlngB etc. OL Shake. Merchant of Venice, 111, it 67, 68 : ** It (l^jove) is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed.” . ^ And Cymheline, V- v. 394-6 s “She, like harmless lightifiifg, throws her eye on him.” H. Coleridge also sings of “ the love- light in her* (his mistress’s) oye. ” For master of fSfi' cf . tfie refraiA' , of Albert Gneme’s song in %coWb Mir^trd : “ Love shall still be lord of all.” 1.34- 1,^6. a bar Between dhem^mncoAscious of obstacle tt> their union ; not “ knowing their dlflerecioes (1. 271 J. 135. pUght or broken ring. They had not plighted ^ei:^ ti*oth to each other (».e.. they wCre not engaged to be marriedl>, nor had they each taken half of a broken ring, as Idvers some- times do in token of their betrothal. , . ■ 136. an Immemorial intimacy, see L 39 and note. 13B. that hung etc., that kept w^^toh over her peaioe end coifi- fort, as a mothe:^ bird broods over her young ones. Gf. Christ’s words of yearning oxJ'qr Jerugalem^ “ How often; ^pulcl I have gathered thy children together, even, as a. hen ^thereth her chickens under her wings ! ” (Bible, MaUhevb, xxiih 37) 140. other, i,e. ojher than a brothei**s Ioa'c, viz. ttot of a lover. * 142. Gather’d the blossom etc., indulged their love for each other, of which the supply was inexhaustible. For the meta- phorical blossom, cf. The Princess; Prologne, 163 (of College undei’graduates) : “ (They) caught the blossom of the flying terms.” For The magic cup, cf. Byron, GhUde Harold, ni. 8: “Life’s enchanted cup” (t.e. the pleasures of life). ^ ' 144. half reveal’d her to herself, gave her a hmt of wh^t her real feelings* wer^ towards Lcolin. For the,. “whisper,” see Il- ls?. 188. 146. her lodges, the lodgeii, or gate-keepers' tiouses at the diflerent ga^ Of her father^' g^unds. 146. a oUdnee. The brook ran Bmooth^y in plac^,. and^so madehosoumii ^ " 147.. with sallows or i^Ulows on its banks. fioMmo is from the ijqoi; swv,; to .flow, ihecause it grciMrs near, water. See. note, to L 6^ Willows are eaUed lWlI*e8?*% in ISere-’' fordshire* NOTES. 37 149. dimpling died into each ottam The knolls were fi\ll of sloping hollows, where thejp met and Were lost in one another. 150. a nest in bloom, eint^omed in flowers, |ks. a nest is in foliage. Cf. Cowper, i.. 225-7 : * So thick bescft , - With foliage of such dark redundant gi^wth, I call’d the low-roo^’d lodge the nest,** And £!koch Arden, 1. 59, who - , ^ made a home For Annie, neat and nest-like.’^ 152; auunir-blancli’d etc. The trails of the cottage were covered in summer with the white blossoms of the' traveller’s- joy {ClenticUis VittUba)^ and in autumn covered partly with its weatl^ry seed-vessels an^ partly with ivy. , These featj^ery seed- vessels have a resemblance to grey Hflir, hence the plant is some- ^ times called Old Han’t Beard ('* parcel -bearded ”). It is called •yraveller’e-Joy because in winter it is one of the most conspicuous and omaiipental ot wayside pla^. Cf. The Golden Year, 1. 63 : *‘ Jpike, an oaken stock in winter woods O’er flsiirished .vith the hoary, clematis.” ^or jiarosl in conmosition, compare Shakspere, 2 Hmry I Y, ii. 1 . 94i a.parcH-gilt gbblet.” 155* wairk^-blile breathings etc. , the blue smoke of a fire- place inside the eottageuame out of a chimney that was covered with vine and honeysuckle. Cf. Princess, vii. 201 : Azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee.”. 157. ahOl^r wore etc., another was covered with the clingiiTg jasnune climber {Jaemmum Officinale) thick-set with its white, star-shaped blossoms. Cf. Cowper, Task, v’l. 176 (of the jasmine) ; “The bright profusion of her scatter’d stars.” * 159. gillyflowers, the Clove Gillyflower, Dianthus CaryophyUus, a brilliant pink flower. It is a corruption of the Old French Low Lat. caryophydum^ meaning * nut-leaf’ or 160. a milky- w|iy on earth, i.e. the garden patbof the cottage was so thickly planted with lilies on either side, that it looked like an earthly millsy-way — a broad white zone, in the sky con- sisting Qt innumerahle fixed %tars. Cf. Wordsworth, The DaffbdUs: “ Coniti^houa as the stars that shina And twinkle on the milky way> They stretchha in hever«'endinhi:Ii&«” 161. Hko vtiific^ eto. , The'^* Nort^j^em dreamer *’ i» Sweden- borg, who wa0 bdhi at Stbokholm In 1688. He claimed to have 38 AYLMER’S FIELD. visions and revelations of <61^ spiritual world, where, he decldSred, there are cities, books, mertihandiSe, natiiial objects, etc., as on earth, but in an infinitely more perfect state tlian they arc in this world. ft f 163. to the martin-haunted eave& The hollyhocks grew so tall and thick that they reached almost up to the eaves of the cotttigc roof, where the ma'ii'tins (a kind ol swallow) had built their nests. Cf. iShaks. Macbeth^ i. vi. 5-7 : # “ The temple-haunting martlet does approve. By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly herd. ” Eaves (Old Eng. efese) is a true singular. 164. A^ummer burial etc., was in sujnmer time deeply bj^ried« in hollyhocks. The hollyhock {ftlthma rosea) is a sJiowy, pink, or white, flower. 1 65. Each, its own charm. Had is, of course, to be repcatei^,' after each ; as also after this amf^we above, 11. 160, 16.% 167. of her poor, by the poor people that she vkited. For this old use of o/y cf. Abbott’s Shakes. Grammar y §*170, and Bible, 1 Ohroniclesy x. 3 : ** He (8aul) was wotmded of the archers.” 108. For she. The subject she is separated from its verb was adored by a iiarcfitliesis of elevcm lines. Such a sentence would be intolerable in ordinary prose ; here it is borne along by the sustaining power of Rhythm (sec Earle’s Philology, § 657). lowly- lovely, * meekly beautiful ’ ; a good example of Tennyson’s fond- ness for alliterative ^.om pounds ; cf. hxs gloomy-gladed, million- rhyrtledy tiny -trumpeting, and see General Introduction, p, xx. 160. Queenly responsive etc., courteously acknowledging the salute^ of the farm laboiirers when they lifted theinselVes irom their work and touched their caps to hci\ 171. sowing hedgerow texts, distributing texts or versos of Scripture to the villagers either in the form of religious tracts or by way of exhortation. . _ nw — » 172. firom a height, with an air of superiority ; in a patronising fashion. • c 175. flattering, glorifying, shedding a lustre upoi)^ Cf. Recol- lections of the Arabian Kights, l.c76 : “ Flattering the ^hlen prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. And Shaks. Sonnets, xxxiii. ; Full many a glorious morning have I seen ^ Flattief the mountain tops with sovereign eye,” Tooft, cottages. NOTES. 39 l*^. Revered as theirs, treated bv^cr with respect as being their own. • 177. Infancy, for infant, as, in the next line, palsy is for palsied (or paralysed) person; abstract for concrete. Cf. Demeter and Persephone, 89 : ‘‘a far -iff friendship” (for /Wend). • 178. bedrMden, confined to his bed ; O. £• hedrida^ a bed- rider, a sarcastic term for a disabled man (Skeat). 180. Having the warmth etc., his hand-shake was marked by a dinliiality and vigour that snowed its sincerity. ^ 181. A childly way, a kind and sympathetic way of l^ehaving towards s^ildA^n. • 182. proven, tested, genuine. See note to 1. 53 above, true ^is an ad'v’irb modifying ringing, 183. Were no false p^sporls etc. were valid means of win- ning the refdy loyalty ^f the cottagers, among whom once etc. ^ 185. the warmth, Le. of the fire on the hearth. 186. flxP'headed, with their Rife to<;s, which, when seen from underneath, look like a row of beads. 188. *em, a j^ovinciali^m, is an elided form not of them, but nf the old hem, accusative plural of he, marriages are made In neaven, marriages are arranged and ordered by God — implying that Leolin and Edith were meant by Divine Providence to marry each other. The phrase is a common proverb.* 189. A flash etc., a slight outburst of jealousy on Liiplin’s part nuide it clear to her that she loved him. 191. swarthy fhces, his Indian servants. 193. Sear’d hy the dose ecliptic, tannecT by t^e tropical suR. The ecliptic is the apparent path of the sun round the earth. ForTfaJr followed by Fairer, see note to 1. 487. 194. ruled the hour, took the lead in conversation. 196, a deedful day, a day of great events or exploits in his military career. Aylmer etc., Sir Aylmer became so interested that he sometimes left off his usual habit of smiling patronisinelv and saying *Good ! dtc.’ 199. withPher Angers etc. She sat with her hands claimed over her knees (covered with her sille dress) and twirled her thumbs — an attitude and gesture indicative of listless indolence. Cf. <lowpes, Conversation, 115 (of the victim of the “noisy man”) : I twirl my thumbs, fall ba^k into my chair.” 201 !' aU her vital spirits, ^he whole of the little animation that she possessed ; all her scanty powers of attention. lie the use of the expression “ vital spirits ” there seems to be an allusiop to 40 AYL-MKR’S F1KL1>, the old notion of the CT^stonce in all livuig beings of spigitua infalea, vital Hpirits, in rtl torwbich liafon says that “the aifectioiifl (no doubt) do make the spiuts more j)oweiful and active: and especially those affections which draw tJie spiiits mtottho eyes ; whicli are two : love andfjnt^ ” (Works, ii. 653). 203. flowerage, flower ^patterns. ' Cf. a similar abstract forma- tion, acreage, 1. 651. «. 204. In wblcb, t.e. drest in which. ^ 205. The meteor of a splendid season, for a brief period ^the belle of a grand season (Le. those months of tljp year when Society meets) in London or at tho Baths (see 1. 27) • « * 206. all so long ago. The ah represents the sigh th%t accom- panies th^ lady's rominiscenoe of her loi^-past triumphs. ^ i 207. mtouet, a slow*, graceful dance, so called frt*m tho pat menm or * short steps* in it. Fr. mermc% dim. of imna, small, Lat. minutiis, ^ % 208. But Bdlth’a etc. Kdith was full of interest in Ihs stories and eagerly followed him, in her imagination, tljf^ongh his dan- gerous adventures. ^ 209. passes, cou junctures, crises. Note the quick movement* of the rhythm, appropriate to the sense of the line : sndteh’d thro* | the p£ri|lous pdssjcs of | hie life. 212. Wile-buutddig, he was looking out for a wife. Cf. forVme- huiitevy one who is in search of a ridi wife. «216. shook; the hofise, caused much excitement in the house- hold, 218, 219. He flow'd ... tested, Ids wish to matry her was at^one time sflrong, at another time weak, and so he left hot intending to return after he had made ti*ial of other ladies. These lines suggest an explanation of his departure after having made Edith so many presents. 1^'or flow'd and ebb'd, cf. Shaks. Troilns avid Creagida, ii. iii. 139, where Agamemnon speaks of changeable fits as ** his ebbs, his lows.’* 222. Fine as* Ice-fejms etc. The delicate gold inlay of tho sheath (seen in the well-known Cluzerati work) ro&embled the feiAS-like configuration on wlndfcjw-panes in winter, which is oaihied W the atmosphere of the room becoming frozen on tho glalM^. C9. The May <;^uee7^ ii, 13 : “ The froa6 is on the pane.” * I Icnow ,not etc,, I do not i^ow where the work^cami inttmk origt^Uy, nor to what nationality its artificers belonged. 227. haviiig fought thetfl last, an instance of the elUpso of the NOTES. 41 co^ate object {fight). See note tp#l. 69, and cf. Goldsmith, The Deserted Viliage, I * f * “ Wlion the poor exiles, every pleasure past, Hung round the Jjowera, and fondly looked their last.” Comrades is in the absolute ease. 229. beel!!UQfir» overhanging. Cf. Shake. Hamlet^ i. iv. 71 : ** The dreadful sufnmit of the cliif* That beetles o’er Bisibase into the sea.” Sk%at says the word is appareutly coined by Shakspere, the idea being adopt^ from the M, E. hitelbrotved^ u^etle-browed, having projeetB^g otows. The word> however, is perhaps derived, not from the insect, but from beetle^ a mallet, in allusion to its ^ projectiftg head. 2B2, For pleasure folibwed by please, see note to 1. BBT. 233. oostiyi wealthy, munideent. Similarly Shakspere (JIfer- chafit of Femes, n. ix. 94) has “costly summer.” 236* e^althy, richly wroughB^plcndid. 23B. Slight, ^areless, offhand. 240. *A gxwlous gift etc.’, said ironically: — <This sharp •weapon is a pleasing an^ appropriate gift for a lady ! ’ 244, you give it me?’, said by Leolin as she offers him the dagger* 245. ungracdousaess itself, enth^iy made up of discourtesy. 249. * Why then I love it Edith’s not caring for the dagger shov^ that she does not care for the donor, the Indian kinsman. Leolin is so relieved in his mind at this, liiat his dislike of tiie dagger is changed into love for it. 250. neither loved nor liked. The double expression is em- phatic ; * he did not like it at all Loved re-echoes th% love of the preceding line ; see note to 1, 487. 251. BlUes and reds, the colours of the rival political parties, Whigs and Tories, in the borough or county. The neighbour he thinks the “blues” (probably the Tory party) were sure to win the election of their candidate for Parliament. 254. a.bottottC a dale or hollow; cp. Shake* tds YomLikeit, ly. iii. 79: rf*Down in the neighbour bottom.” the brush, the fox’s t ail* the prize of the fo:e>hunter who. is &st^“in at the death, I. e, who first reaches the place where the fox is caught d>y f. My Peter, my son Pe^r. 256t po<^-^ttdu fepoW, Somepoacher,,whose^laeevraB scarred by the or little hollows left oy 8ihall-]^x. For tie allitera- tive:<sc^ajf^ Itt^ Ur <2), (e), 42 AYLMER’S FIELD, 257. Then made etc., then he clapped liis hands and ruli^ed them together in hia glee. \ * 260. The birds were warm, the game that he had poached was found fresh -killed in his possessicp, Cf. Shake. Romeo and Juliet, v. iii. 175 : ‘‘Here lies Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead.” 263. This blacksmith border -marriage, a Gretna Green mar- riage. Gretna is a Scotch village clos% to the border between England and Scotland, and was fanfous as the place where many yea^rs runaway marriages were contracted ; since, accord- ing to Scotch law, parties c<%*ild be married by malyng fL mutual declaration before witnesses of their willingness to inasty, with- out license, banns, or priest. John Paisley, known ^s “the blacksmith,” who officiated «at these marriages, lived on a common ^ or green bit ween Gretna andi^priiigfield.* An Act of Parlianfent, passed in 1856, made these marriages illcg%l. * 264. Raw from the nursery, i.e. quite a young girl, who seemed to have only just left the nurse’%^ire. 265. That cursed France etc., i.e. this marpagi^is one of the results of the French Revolution, and its ddetrj^e that all arc equal in social standing. The time of the poem is supposed to be, 1793, when the French Revolution of 1789 was at its height* (see 11. 464, 760-708). egalitiea is the anglicised plural of the French word equality^ The motto of the French Re- public was Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,” and by his “Rights of Man,” Lafayette demanded the actual equality of every indi- vidual. In July, 1790, the National Assembly carried by accla- mation a decree aboJishing all titles of nobility in “a land of* natural frecslom and equality,” Cf. Beautiful City, 2: ‘ ‘ O you with your passionate shriek for the rights of m equal humanity.” * 267* ^itb nearing ebair etc., (he said this) bringing his chair nearer to Sir Aylmer, and speaking in low, confidential tones. 208. talk’d, gossiped about the matter, which drew their attention. 27 L a notion, an idea of marrying Edith. 272. entangled, inveigled into promising to marry Leolin. 27*3. etiifenlng', assuiping a haughty demeanour. « 274. tbeir dUiPerenoee, i,e. in remk and station. jSee note tojl. 234,235. 278« for Ob ber etc. Edith was the first 4 ko cxporieiice the* violent anger tjf Sir Aylmer and ^is wife at then' disbovery (implied in the “ watch’d ” of flfe previous line). tbo Vopbtha'fl daughter, the picture of Jephiha’s daughter. She lyae th^e first to meet her father after his return from victory NOTES. 43 ovc?thj AmVpnitca, and so was sacnificed to God according to ]iis vow. Tnc picture was t^us, nJ it were, prophetic of the fate of Sir Aylmer’s daughter. Dream of Fair Women, 181-240. 281. Of\arly rigid colour ^ painted with the hard colouTing and rigid outlines characteristic of the B^^zantine school, before Cimabue’s time, under wljich. The picture was hung above the door- way. « ^2. counter, opposite ; Lat. contra, against. 287. the Powers of the House, Sir Aylmer and Lady Aylmer. 2o9. Hj^e, fainted, rouged. 290. bv his own stale devil spurr'd, goaded to fury by his ^inveterate vice of family pride. 291. breathing hard, ^rom fUssion and esccitcment.* For the two hards m this lme,«sec note to 1. 487. . 299. Her sicklier iteratto n. Lady Aylmer’s feebler re petition of her husb^d’s phrases. ^ 300. mark me, observe what I say. are to make, are for making, have yet to be made or won.. Similarly wo say ‘to |nake money * for ‘ to gain money,’ To make is a geruiidial Infinitive expressing result. 30L out of mine, i.c. by marrying my dauglgber, an heiress. 302. practised on her, worked u^n her feelings ; deceived her by your arts and machinations. practise, as used by^bakspere and Bacon, carries some sense of crafty or underhand dealing, which it still retains in the phrase, ‘ to practise upon a person. ’ 303. forget herself, forget her own position and dignity. 306. Far as we track ourselves, throughout the history of our family, going back, though it does, to such distant times. ^ 312. look’d into yoUrself, examined yout* own feelings. 315. prodigious! monstrous. These were words etc., accord- ing to Sir Aylmer’s own view of the matter, this statement of dirts sh^^-sed immense forbearance on his part, 316. As meted etc., when considered in the light of his 6wn dignity and impartance, • 318, 319. I So foul etc., i.e. I to be so foul etc.; to think that 1 should be so foul etc. Au?, base, infamous. 321. the wind-hover, the Kestrel (FaJeo tinnnnculus), a bird of \he hdwk kind, i!»o called from its hovering in the wind or ]8smaitiing poised in the breeze (“ hanging in b^ance”) without fliittefing its wings. • * 322. reddening ftom the storm within. The violence of . his emotions sent the blood into his face and made it red. 44 AYLMER’S FIELT) 323. broke all bonds courtesy, completely ^aolatcd /'the obligations of politeness. \ ^ 326. drove etc., pushed the footstool violently away fibm in f.'ont of him with his feet. ^ 3^. teeth that gn^ound etc. ^ound his teetif together in his pasbioii as people do when trouDled with a nightmare. 320. still, all the ^me, continuall;^ 330. half-aghast. The truo spelling is agast, past participle of M. E. agcbsten, to terrify. * 331. lintel, the beam over a door- way ; Low Jiat. IhUdlus^ , for limitellus^ dim. of a border. 332. a hoary face etc. His white hair made Sir AyJ^tner a fit object of reverence for his family. 333. th% hearth, ‘ the fireside cftcle, tlie family * ; pbstract for concrete. s 334. Beneath a pale etc. A contrast is drawn between the^ finshed and passlouaie face of«^r Aylmer and the pale, calm moon sinning overhead. The wild mood of the infui is emphasised by its want of harmony with his natural snrrdimAngs. 339, 340 his passions ..motion, ‘his feelings being all ii% a state of violent excitement and directing bis movements’ — an absolute clause. JB'or the metaphor from tno tide of a river, cf. 1. 218. 341. hrJIrht, with the moon-light. 342, foam’d away his heart, gave unrestrained vent to his angry feelings. Cf. ^st^hylits. Agamemnon^ 1030, i^tppltetrOaL fupcs, ‘ foams her fury away ’ (like a horse) ; and Ode on thi’ DetUh cf the Duke of WeUingfonf 124; ‘i posh’d on every i ocky square llioir surging charges foam’d themselves away.” 348. He never yet had set etc., he had never hitherto exposed his daughter for sale in our Western marriage markets, where our beautiful women lot themselves be sold to the highesMiiddea («.e. choose husbands for their wealth). The sentence means that he hs4 never «trie<l to get hold of a rich husband for his daughter- The allusion is to the actual sale, in the “woman- markets ” of the Bast, of Cauea^on girls for Turkiui or Persian hatems. S5t% What is etc*, what is tht elo^nt (he is speaking ironieslly > Society ui^es to express the idea ? The noun jSt (from wmch the vel#is 4erl,ve4.1) is a coAraciion of jiUety dnninutive of JiU» a qpmtneb fbniale name, short for Juliana. 354. X aay it Ibr your peace, X tell you this to show you that, NOTES. 45 having hcen^sappointcd in love myself, I can sympathise witli you in youi Iwe-irouble. 355. as he^urin^ <*tc. Since he loved the woman, Averill felt himself h.^iniliaicd by shameful conduct. 361. in all my fold, among«all my parishioners. Christ (iSble, Johv X. 14) doBczibed himself as the **good shepherd/' His disciples as His “sheep ” of “ flof k/* and tile Christian Church as “ the fold of the slicep tfence a clergyman is called a pastor , \h% Latin word for ‘ shepherd.’ Cf. 11. WO, 631. 363. whiter, purer ; so whif^t ~ ' most innocent * above, 1. 361. dL Htnry Vaughan, The Hekreai^ 6: “a white, celestial thought.^ 366. ftt her parents he, leave them alone ; never mind what the;f say or do. 371. on ft, ill dcpen^lence upon it ; he would give them enough money to enable them to marry. 373. ^altbier, not in mone^i^ut in happiness at having done a good action. 37 Mtammlb, monejy worship. Mammmi {Syriac for ‘ wealth ’) was the Syrian god of riches answering to the Plutus of flreck ^ and Koman mythology. * Jjcolln declared that men and women, being prevented from marrying by money considerations, betook themselves to debauchery and prostitutions Sec 11. 388'391 below ; and cf. hocktsUy 100 : “ E’l ery dooi is barr'd with gold, and opens but to gc&deii keys.” 375. nature crost, the thwarting of nature, f.r. by the preven- tion of marriages. For the construction, af. 1. «5.37 and note. 376. adulteries, taints, impurities. S77. saturate, pervade, 611 with infection, soul with hody, soul along with bc^y. 378. they might he proud, they had good reason to bo proud of it, since its worth consisted in its being borne by Edith, rated, scolded. Probably a difiSsrent word from tate^ to value. 381. pheasapj^dords, these country gentlemen who had no higlier aim thalh to preserve the game on their estates. Pheasants and partridges are the two principal English gidhe-bir^ 382. €kf A thousand ywMw, these men who for a thouS&d years past had done nothing isstter than breed partridges. 38^ mlMow^d ih their thousands* who had ^oWn indolent and efiG&te in tlie pcAaesaion of great rfohOa. is Old Eng. honey *dew, so^pied from appearance of sotho kinds of b|i|gkt« 384. Ihhoe since fhh time of lEgberV of Wessex (802*839), by mom the whole English wo in Bntain wan for 46 AYLMER’S FIELD. the first time knit together under a single ruler ” j^reen). <tlie greater, so much greater. (This (he is the old mi or the instrumentar case of the uAdd as a demonstrative; as in * the sooner the better. ’ 380. Fall hack . . . that 1 to think that tlfey should ha\4 recourse to their ancient lineage to suppoi^ their dignity^ and remain ignobly satisfied witl^ that. 387. a vantage ground for nohlenesB * what fools they arc to act so, when they have so ini]^ort!int a help (in high birth)* towards noble action ! Js a sl^^^ fonn of aAiv am.fpLg{ef 388. a quintessence of ma]|^. one who comprised ^thii^imself all the best qualities of human nature. Quinteasence ( LeffT qu inta fifth essence of nature) is the pure essence of ag^^uig, in affusion to the old theory of the existence of a superior gfth element, siethcr, in additiox^' to lAie orifinary four — earth, air, fire, and water. «■> 389. The life of aU, one who infused his own energy and ani- mation into all aroimd him. 391. Had rioted etc., had killed himself by plunging into a career of dissipation. 393. powers, abilities. ,, 395. the world should ring etc. Leolin declared that ho would win such world-wi^e renown that the old, worn-out race of the Aylmers .should be ashamed of their pride of ancestry in compari- son Avith hk achievements. 397. Chancellor, Lord High Chancellor of England, the first lay subject after the princes of the blood royal, and head of the legibl profession. ^ * 398. your grief, /.«. the jilting etc. mentioned in 11. 354-357^ 399. Give me my fling, let me have free scope to indulge my feelings I let me give them free utterance. 403. like a storm, i.€. violently, passionately. Cf. L 215. 404. How low etc. , tliat he was in a state of nervous prostration. 405. beeswing, old port wine. Bee*B*mng is a thin, light film in port wine, indicative of considerable age, so^rcalled from its roseml^l^liilhs to tke wing of a bee, and Js’ here pm for t!ie wine itseU. Si chest for storing wine. T^e usual luod^n spelling Is ^he Middle English form^ 406. the waning rod j the gradual change from a red to a rich brown colour thutit '|ilace in port wmc with advancing^ age. Age Improves wine. ^ The v^lMp yw on whSch the; vine-crop of which ma4«’;wW’3ahfctherfed. wh^eti the ; !jpMent 9ir Aylmer reached the age of twenty-^ne» NOTES. 47 4^. flamd^ and fell again, becam^ once more passionately excited and quieted dowif. 410. That much etc., that wo oughf readily to excuse people’s failings ; we must not be too hard on them. This conclusion results from the znellowitLg influence of the wine. • 4T2. his inirpose held', his purpose was unchanged, he still determined to caiTy out his purpose (of inakhig liiniself a name) ; seel. 394. * 4)p. Which breaks all bonds but ours, i,c. the rupture between myself and the Aylmer family renders nil bonds of friendsliip, loyalty ^c. Hhtween me and them o^^oid ; the only bond tJiat remains is that of love between you and me. ^ 420. S&red^ devotedly bound. 42?. The rain of heaven etc. • The Repetition is justifftd by the additional emphasis iti gives, and by the new phase of feeling introduced in the repeated phrase by the striking epithet careUtsH, {zointing, as it does, to the UH^mpathetic attitude of Nature towards tiuman sorrow. Cf. the gorgeous picture of the “beauteous baleful isle” in Enoch Arden (U. 568-575), in con- trast with the lonely desolation of Enoch, who “dwelt with #tcrnal summer ill- content.” For an instance of emphatic repetition, cf. Milton, Par. Losft ii. 1021-2 : “ So he with difliciil^ and labour hard • ' Mov’d on, with diraculty and labour he,” And for one of repetition 'with an added notion, cf. Jh. 558-560 : “ (Otliers) reason^ high Of Providence, foreknowledge, will; ancLfate, Fix’d fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute. ” Cf, also Enoch Ardent 507, 508 : “So these wore w^ed and merrily rang the bells. Merrily rang the bells and they were wed. ” 431. roar’d the pine, i.e. with the wind in its branches. Another touch pointing to the aloofness of Nature from their brouble. 4.33. known bift smatteringly, that we had onty a superficial knowledge of previously. ThO old verb smodier, from which the noun, mnatteriwj crimes, is connected with a noise made with the Ups, and hence a gabblinj^ or grating . * 436. %liat codelef g myriad etc. These lines de^ribe the com- jrfexity of English Law witj;»its undic^ted mai^;bf precedents {i.ei previous imrallel cases o^u which judgmep^ in a new case are based) and its medley of imclassifled cases, Hallaitt has de- scribed it as the aocuniulation of statute on statute and precedent 48 AYLMKR’S FJELI). on precedent, ‘Mill no industry can acquire noi^any intellect digest the iqass of ]eiirniiigl*^hat grt)ws upon the pjjmtuig student.” 438. wit 6r fortune, clev^uesb or good luck. • 441 . UjTlitnlng etc., play of humour, sparkling and evanescent. 8can : , Lightning | of the hoiir, | the pdn, { the sciirrijlous tdle. Notice the quick inWcment of iho 1‘hythm in the first two feet, echoing the sense : and cf. General Introduction, p. xix. (j$). 442, Old soaudals etc Old scu^ftudals (contained in law<casesf$tc! ) of seventy years ago, which have been forgotten in the accumula-, tloii of fresh scandals, 110 ^ also forgotten and Mlo^^l by the current scandal, which is itself destined to be forgotten. For decads, see 1. 82 and note. • 44/>, 4^. bent ...To xual^jB, xx>ttic fc4 ‘bent(/.e. d^teri^wodf upon making.* To make disproof of soorn", to provoliow unjun^ was the scorn with which he liad boon treated 448. Oliaridt, more sparing ^an others). 449. a breatbing-wblle, a period of cessation from work. 450. niggard, scanty ; an adjective here. 451. the river-bank, the bank of tho^ Thames. ^ 452. Harder the times were etc. In 1793, the supposed date m this poem, thore^ was much poverty and distress among the labouring classes in consequence of the low rate of wages and the high priclb of wheat. TJie state of English prisons, which were haunts of misery and cruel 13 % was not improved till the following year, fhi’ough Howard’s exertions. Tlic criminal law was most severe ; a petty theH was pnnishtible ]>y death ; and before Sir Robert Peers •Acts of 1824 nearly one hundred felonies wore capital ofiences. • 453. •according, t.c. in harmony uuth the times. 455. the gardens of that rival rose, the Temple Gardens (see note to 1. 105), It was here that Shakspero (1 V/. ir. iv.) represents Richard Plnntagenet as plucking a white rose, and the Earl of 8omerset a red, and cslling upon those present t# do the same in token of adhesion to his cause. Cf. 11. ^-52. 456. Vet f!rsil);rant etc. The roses kept tHbir fragrance for Lcolin, because liis heart was softened and refined by the happy iiiomories c>t his talks w'ith Etlitb* 4«'>8. Far pureller, [when the city was smaller and less smoky. H. T.] • ^ 459. to i&usl^ blB blood with ala A graphic allusion to the ss by which the venous bloooj in its passage thrpukh the , is subjected to the action of the air and arteriaJis^^ biearhs to freshen,'* or perhaps “ to redden ” in aUuaion to NOTES. 49 the fftct that Jic venous hlood^which i*Pof a tlaik crimson colour, becomes florid Cs scarlet in passing tljfough the liingH. 460. My lady's cousin, the Indian kinsman " of 1. 100. 401. H alf-slpke nlmr old. He had retired on pension, and ^os half-iii^t otTusiongdayii of leisure. 462. Brove'ln upon, came rushing in ; burst in upon him. 463. Eaa » Malayan i»g,te attack, .in the Malay twhipn, t&uljit 3.murr IS the Malay word amuk, a kind of mania or un- ^ontrollaMe f^jry among the Malaysigand other natives of the •East, whflii is often produc^ed by hkang^ and under the uifluence of which a man rashes madly onward, dagger In hand, striking a,t every olie he meets. The phrase ** to run a muck *’ is common, ftie a keing detached irovc^mvek tfs if ii«were the iiidofiniti article. Cf . Pope, SofcVea, i. 69, JO : Satire’s my weapon, but T*m too discreet ^ To run a muck, and^t at all I meet.*’ The original reading of the text, as late as 1874, was a Malayan muck ” ; cf. Dryllen, TAe I! hid und the Panthtr^ ni. 1187-8 : ** Frontleas, and satire-proof, he scours the streets, And runs an Indian muck at all he meets.” 464. Had golden hopes etc. He believed that the French Revolution would bring liberty and prosperity to Franco and all the world. See note to 1, 265. 465. those at home, the Aylmer family. 466. With a heaved shoulder etc. Ho shAggec^ his shoulders^ and smiled pertly,— signs of careless and sliglitly contemptuous iiidiflijroncc. The ** saucy smile” shows his suppressed amuse- ineiit at Loolin’a love for Edith. L^^krugged’ is an «ugly woid. H. T.] 467* fain had haled, would have gladly haiiled or dragged. Fain is an adverb here. Of. 1. 805. Hale is an older form of JmuI, and occurs in The PHneena^ XV. 252 ; Walking to the Maiif 1. Ss ; Boudicea^ 1. 55. the wcxld, society. 468. air’d him, nsfreshed him ; taken him out of* his solitude, nearer, more ii^timate. 469. Screw not etc., do not pu%too great a strain ufion your strength of body and mind for fear it should break down under it.^ The metaphor i|^ from tho screwing up of ihe string of a musical utstrumeni to a greater tension than it will bear. Tlie flgtfte h, probably a simimr ocm in Sbaks. Mwheiht i. vii. 60 : “ Scr&w yoni: courage to the sticking-jpAace.” This line prepares ds for the hint given later on (11* 715«717) that Iieolin^s subsequent suicide was due tc^tempaigury insanity. n 50 AYLMER’S FIELD. 471. From where etc. ^ He woi® the dagger, ajw^a love-t6ken, next Ms heart. worldle8s,|ain worldly, simple, hiftiest. 472. Kissing his vows etc. He kissed the dagger in attestation of his true love, as a knight kisses his sWord to ratify a vow that he has taken. Cf. Shaks. Uapt ofiLiicrpcCj 1842, 184^ : “This said, he (Oollatine) striic]| his hand upon hia breast, And kiss’d the fatal knife, to end (i.e. ratify) his vow.” 473. henohers, senior membex^s of an Inn of Court, who are tke governing body of the Society and have control over students for the l)ar. ^ 475. heart ... helped head, his simple, unworldly nature and' his love for Edith made his intellect clearer. c 476. fhr between, coming at l<mg inthrvals. 479. Charm’d him etc., acted like c.. charm tS guide him through all the labyrinths or perplexities of his legal studies! See IL 436-437. ^ 480. a light, a prospect of success. 481. they that cast etc., explained in the next line by the word heqetterH, cast, moulded ; set her spirit in its mould of flesh. C£. To J. 3, 4 : “fjently comes the world to those That are cast in gentle mould. ” 483, Tfo sell her, to give her in marriage to a rich suitor. 8ee 11, 347>349. With the scathing irony of this line compare that of 1. 781. For the fopetition of good, see note to 1. 487. 484. Whatever eldest-bom etc., every heir to high rank or large property that they could get hold of. 487h wooing him to woo. A good instance of one of the characteristics of Tennyson’s style, consisting in a sort of sound-play, — the repetition of a word in the same or in a slightly different sense. This epigrammatic iteration has a peculiarly emphatic effect. Cf. if. 59 (co/fd), 67 {joiifid), 193, 194 (/mV, fairer), 232 {pleojmre, please), 249, 250 {love, loveJx), 291 (Aard-ridden, hard), 483 {good), (hunters, Aw?i^ed), 718 {shame). Also Guinevere, 309, 310 : “ Whereat tlie novice crying, with clasp’d ftands, Shame on her own garrulity garrulously y And Queen Mary, ii. 2 : ^ ** Under colour Cf such a cause as ha^ no colour, ” It is employed by other poets,^ as Milton, Par. Lost, IX. 1 1 ^^That brought into this world a world of woe; Byron, Prisoner of ChUlm^ yi. ; T|)e very rock hatb^eiSj’d / ** Cowper, Task, NOTES. 51 IV. 3?>9 : “With all this thrift t\ve>y not: and Spenser, Faery Queen, i. 45 : J * “ I’hcre she awhile him stayea, him aolfe to rent, That to the reftt more able lie might bee.’’ 488. znoutb. by month, r vSee fiote to 1. 806. 489. distant blaze, the briglit light of theif dinner-lamps seen in the distance. ^ ^90. wlrer. See note to 1. 539.e Poachers use snares made of wire ’’to entrap hares. The adjective nightly has two meanings, fjontaiiiina the#iotion of either (1) 'l^nij^ht, during the night,’ •(as here), W' (2) * every night, night after night.* 491. ^ Fahber, hesitate (through fear of discovery). The word has tl^ same derivation fault, Jxom Lai. falhre, to bc^iilo. 492. SuUeii^ defiant, pityii^, wroth. These epithets describe ^le different tnoods of tne suitoi‘s upon their rejection. •494. the folly taking wings etc.^he report of the foolish affair began to etoread beyond the bounds of the “ sleepy ” (1. 45) Aylmer village, and was carried by rumour into the neighbour- ing districts. ' ^95. down the wind, fca*th, away ; like a bird borne along by tlie wind. Cf. Cowper, Proyreen of Error, 333 (of the ‘Slagle-pinioned Muse**); “Down, down the wind, she swims and sails away.” 497, 498. mockery ... laughter, i.e. a subject of mockery ... a subject of laughter, yeomen, small farmers, over ale, as they drank beer together. 490. For hunters followed by hunted, see note tef 1. 487. 600^ cordon, the enclosing circle (of hunters or beaters)* toward the death, with tlie object of killing the game. 503. the wealthier farms, i.e, lest she should meet or hear of Leolin there. 504. her own home-circle of the poor, the poor people belong- ing to her own village whom she visited. Cf. 11. 147, etc, ; 683, etc. 507. amulet, jnajical cdiarm^ mysterious induence, Afuultt is from Arabic Aotfiia/a, lie^^carried * ; hence, ‘ a thing carried. * 509. the brand of Jolm. The t^e had been branded with the letters I. R. {^John Pex or King), denoting that it had been so meft’ked the reign frf King John. The marks thus burnt into thed>ark of the tree had been Concealed from vieurjbty the over- gro\Hh of fresh bark, which, Tailing off centuries after, had dis- qjosed the ancient brand. A wmter in Notes and Queries (Sept. 25, 1880) tells us of a tree that was cut down in Sherwood Forest, which borj a cipher indicating Kipgi John’s reign. The 52 AYLMKR’S FTKLl) mai’k waa ei^kteoii iucIioh withiii tree, aud a little moie'tliau a foot frcmi\he ceutie <)<fi«‘r trees cut oif" the same ocea- 810 U were iueiseil or 8ttuux)e(l with marks of the reigns of James r.,«aud of William and M.iiy. Oaks arid yews attain to a great age ; “William the Ctmt^ueror’s CVk” in \Vin<lbor Park is known to he al le.ist 1200 ^e.ir8 old. .'Jll The broken base etc. [The 'trunk of the tree w’as hollow and decayed with only one branch in leaf. H.T.] ^ 51.3. tbe manorial lord, the ford of the manor or e^talc^, /.c. Sii A> liner. In feudal tjmos a manor was a of lands from the king to a bai’on which canded with it tl/^ right of. jurisdiction, ^ 514. iglllennlal, lit. a thousand yeo^s old ; *.c. very a^cienk touch' wood dust, <lust or /iou <Iere<l debris of decay an*! rotten wood. ToHvh in iouth’Xoood is a corrupfclon of the fiddle Kng. tinder for receiving ejiaiks fetruck by a Hint. • 515. Found .. a bitter treasure -trove, made a painful dis- ctiveiy. Notice the oxymoron, as m U. 6: “faultily laultlcHs”; llu Jh fence of Lneknow, vi. : “tlw pitiful-pitiless knife.*’ CJf. Horace’s {Carm. m. xi. 35) s)*ienuide mentfax, ‘nobly false*; and Sophocles’s {Anffff, 74) fierta Ttufcvpyi/jffaa^f ‘ii.iving committed a righteous crime* ; and Lnnettot anti JtLiaine, 872, 873 J “His honour io<*ted in dishonoiu -^tood, And failh unfaithful kept him falsely true *' ^AIso Shakb. Ifirftrtr/f III, iv. iv. 26 : “ I)oad«hfo, blind sight, poor mortal living gliost. ” In ^ivusit/x-Z/’o/v , t (, trerisii re found, frore (Old Fr. (rort^) ij^ pro- pel ly a dissyllable. 516. Burst his own wyvem, broke the seal of the letter which w.is stamped wnth the Aylniei ciest. Sec note to 1. 17. .517.' Writhing, ni a torture of indignation. 521. To him that fluster'd etc., to Sir Aylmer who confused and frightened the foeble-inindcd rustic, parish wits, the low^ intelligence of an ordinary \illager. ‘ 523. To play their go-between, to ad as mesi^euger botivcen theiA. ^ 525. Soul stricken. The cominon word is Jifart t^frieken, t’c. const ien< e-ptiioken nn instance of Tenny4oii^s avoidedlce of tiic commonplacer; see General iiitrodiiction, II. (2), {<f), ^ ^ 526. lean heart, meanness, cowardice. SUserable qualifles Mart. 527. a des]|^ot dreamt a dream of the porformemoe of some act NOTES. r)3 of tyranny. Henre he is dosei il>e 4 l “panting/' when lie woke, with cxe^J<‘inent ami pailkion caiwed hy tlie r>2(). the black republlOt the flocl^ of m^ks which ha<l theie ncsta on tlie elin-trees of Jiis paik. Similarly in Th< Jirooh^ yj7, pigeons are (loHcrihc<i as “in bcssion on the roofs/* as though ashcniblecl in*parliaincnt. Cf/Pope, lHamy on ^fa7l^ iii, 183, IM : “ Learn eac;h small +'*eoph'’a genius, |>olioics, The Ant's rcpulilic, and the realm of nees.** Swesping^thefirotbflyfroift the fescue. The Froth-^fty , called Froth-womi ami Frog-fly) is a small insect which in its Inr^ a ^ state is f%ind^ii plants, enveloped iiAi frothy, saliva-like licpiid. The /r/rrttr {Fe'ifitea) is the name of a very extensive genus of grasses. •The one inenthmod here is the Meadow Fescue {F^nfitca a valuable pasture ^tiss. ^Sir Aylmer's foej^ passing through th<b^ong grass, hrushecl tho^e frothy formations from its J|eaves, • • 532, 533. who made A dowuvwd crescent etc. Tier mouth formed a •curve like a crescent moon w’ith its horns ixnutitig downwards, minion is from tlie French wiynon^ neat, spruit'. The word is usetl with a toi.ch of scorn. ♦ • 534. XisUesB in all despondence, indilfcront In her feeling oi complete inability to do anything to help matters. 535. As if the living passion fdc. Sir Aylmer tore the lovt - letter as vindictively as if it wore not merely a record of stiouvr and living afleet ion luit an actual living olijcct which could feel his rough usage. 537 at his own grreat self defied, at t he^d efiiyiec of his ow'll groat self: a Latin conatrmdioii like //os/ urheiti romf/Vow, ‘after the iouudlng of the city.' (*f. Milton's “after summons reiul ” {Par, Lo^t, I. 707). Ct, 11. 375, 77C. • 5.38. Btriking-on ... scorn. His reading v a-» iiiternipled by ex pressions he mot with which excited his ulniost iinpaiicuec and contempt. • • f>30. babyisms, childish talk such as lovers use. The w'oid, in this sense, like tallowy (1. 117), wircr (1. 400), idiot* (1. 500), socins to be of Tbnny son’s coinage. See (leneral Introduction, IT. (2), (f/). dear diminutives, diminutives cxiiressivc I'f iuideai - inent ; short pet nanics. Cf. tin? “little language of Swift in his letters to Stella. • 541 Hke a obldden child, Cf. Shelley, AYaii'.os Writfen in IkjptHon^ IV, ; “ Yet now despair itself is mild, Bven as the winds and waters are ; I could lie down like a tired child.” 54 AYLMER’S FIELD. 542. hush’d itself, i.€^ Leolin, after complaining of Eflith’s silence, at ^ast stopped writing to’her. ^ 547. rustling etc,, moviifg about among the shrubs and bushes neg.r the Hall, and so making a rustling, noise, which caught the ear of the keeper. ^ 548. a keeper, a game-keepei*, who thought I.ieolin was a poacher. ‘ *' 540. nor was it well for her, she too^ad not a happy time of i|. 556. what possess’d him, what strange influence made him do it. It seemed to himself assort of infatuation. ^ 558. follow’d suit, followed her husband’s example, 559. Seem’d hope’s returning rose. Her father’s kisi#, i-epeated (“seconded”) as it was liy henrmoth^, made the prospoct of things seem more hopeful to her. * Rose-coloured ’tis a common synonym for ‘ hopeful, cheering. ’ ^ 5C0. A Martin’s summer, second or autumnal period c€ summer weather coming just before Avinter. Mild weflther often returns in England for a time near Martinmoyor St. Martin’s Day, the 1 Ith of Novcml)er. Of. Shaks., 1 King Henry VI. I. ii. 181 : “Expect St. Martin’s smuH^er, halcyon days,” Sha||- spere also calls it “All Hallowcn {i.e. All Saints’, 1st Nov.) summer” in 1 King Henry IV. i. ii. 177 : “Farewell, thou hitter spring ! farewell, All -hallow n summer ! ” Hence the line means * A temporary revival of his lost affection.’ 561. ordeal hy kindness. She was tested by kind treatment, to see if she would ^’’iold t o that. In old times there were severul kinds of ordeals or tests to find out the guilt or innocence of accused persons ; as the ordeal by wager of battle ])ctween the accused and his accuser, and the ordeal by water, often ajfjplied to suf»I)C5sed witches, who, if they sank, were accounted innocent, and if they floated, guilty. 562. Croat, met, came across. 663. flow’d in, gave vent to. Cf. To J. 8. 6-7 : ** And me this knowledge bolder made, Or else I had not dared to flow »■ In these words towanl you.” shallower acrimonies, bitter spieeches of a more siipei^icial char- acter ; petty taunts. 666. Her charitable use, her customary M^cAi'ks of charily. See 1. 504. 667. sUence, i.c. on the jjart o? Leolin, whose letters had oeased. . ^ « 560. semie low fever etc.,. The fev^r is personifled as if it were NOTES. 55 an vjivader on the look out for a weak^oint in the defences of a place, by which to make an attOtCk upon it. ^ 570. a people or a house, a community or a family. 571 , 572 . Like flies ..•hurtingr the hurt. Cf. Bacon, XIII. : “Shell men in other men’s calamities, are, as it were, in season, and* are ever on the loading part {i.e. they * hurt the hurt ’) ; not so good as th^ dogs that licked Lazarus* sores, but like flies that are stilly buzzing upon anything that is raw.** •Deer, when one of their nninl^r is sick or disabled, eject him fro^ the herd* Of. 8haks. Aft You Like it. i. 60 (of a wound<^ de^) : ** Left and abandoned of his velvet friends.** 574 . Aid flung etc-, i.e. she ha<f to take to her bed with a violent attack of fever. 517. past, passed a^iay, diefl ; the Aylmer family becoming extinct wi^ her, its last representatfve. * 578<580. Star to st^ ... as at once, one star sends waves of light to another star, however distant ; so may not one soul communL cate witk another soul by mcan^f some power or quality that it possesses still more delicate and impalpable than light ; and so one soul, though far di..*ant from the, other, feel its sudden sympathetic touch? A similar instance of this supernatural ^sympathy or telepathjr, tis it is called, occurs in Eujoch Arden^ 609-611, where Enoch in his distant island hears the bells ring- ing for Philip’s marriage with his wife Annie. Similarly Char- lotte Bronte {Jane Eyre^ Chaps. .35 and 37) represents her heroine as hearing, though far away, the wild cry of “Jane ! Jane ! Jane !’* uttered by her lover, Mr. Bochester. Cf. Demeter and Persephone^ 87-89 : “ Last as the likeness of a dying man, • Without his knowledge, from him flits to warn A far-ofi’ friendship {i.e. friend) that he comes no more.” 682. keen, piercing. The shriek, of course, comes from Leolin’s lips. 583. Shrill, sounded shrilly. ShHlh used as a verb, is a favourite word with Tennyson; cf. Enoch Arden, 176; hammer aiul axe, auger and saw ... slirilTd and rang **; Pa^ssmg of Arthur^ 34 ; fiir OcUahtMl, 5 ; The TcdJdny Oak, 68 ; Demeler and Perm- phone, 60. JTor the rJjythmic break, cf. General Introduction, II. (2) (e), (a), and Pcbsehig of Artimr, 41, 42 : “ From cloud to cloud, down tjje long wind the dream SJ^rill’d.” , • 685. With a weird bright §ye, with a weirdly bright eye ; with a' strange, unearthly lighf in his eyes. The* line should be scanned ; ^ With a weird | bright eye, | sweating | and tr4m|h(e)hng. AYLMER’S riELR. 56 By this soansion prononnccd as a imyllahlo, as with warhlinga In Sir Lancelot and Qtuch (Mwverr, H- ** By night | to eo ^'y warb | (c)lings. ” An4 Cowper, Cafferhin, 12: • “ By the night | ingale 'Vi^ai^Kellmg nigh.*’ The usage is oominomn Shakspere ; cf. Two Gentlemen of Verona^ I, iii. 84: ^ “O, how I this spring | of love | roscni|b(o)lcth,*’ and Cortolafiit**, i. i. 159 : You, the I great {oe | of this | assem |b(o)ly. See Abbott’s Shtxlrs. Grammar^ § 477. 586. erttnkllng into fla 3 ne%; starting uf^on end, like the flames of a briskly burning fire. ^ *■ 588. hia long arma, his extended arms. So, Martial, Kf>p. VII. 20, has longa dextra^ ‘ wit^right arm stretched to its full extent.’ 590. befool'd and idioted eto*, called a fool and an idiot by the other in bluff friendliness. See note to 1. 589. 594. A breaker a rcvealer. Breah.^n this sonne, is always used of news or information that requiios care or delicacy in tuo telling. 595. edged wltb deatb, black -edged. '' Mourning note paper,” here used to convey to Leolin the news of Edith's death, has a black border round it. ^506. him, thoadcaj man, Tjcolin. himself, the Tndian kins- man. 597. with no bandit’s, not with a bandit’s blood (sec 11. 225- 281) as^t had been before, but with the true and noble-heart od Leolin’s. Bandit (Ital. handito) is properly one who is Immied or outlawed. 509. hla death, his dead body. Cf. life for Hmag things Enoch Arden y 76; birth for thing himi, TVordsuorth, ImmorfaUty Ode^ II. 7. GOD. his floefc, his congregation, his pavishionors.^ Seo 1. 361 and note, 601. the years which are not %me*a, Cf*. ho was aged not by the lapse of tnUe, but by grief at Leoliu's iate. Cf. Byron *s Primner of Chillon^ whose*** hair wm gray, but not with years. 6024 many ttfbnaaiid days etc , me Ufa was shorted by several years tlirongh the terrible shook. 604. the second deatii, ^e. the Seath of Xieolki* The recent NOTES. 57 dea^h of Edith made Leoliij’a deat1>^ aifect her but little, else she, being one of the indirect agents that caused would have hesitated to ask his brother to pyeach her daughter's funeral sermon. * , 606. to«fliidetc., to suggest texts or portions of Scripture to Averil for him to use as the^mottoes of his sermons. [It is im- gied that she. had given ^verill the tex4; he preached from. s 607* harrow’d, distressed, wr#ng with grief. ^0. Barhly that day rose etc. , [a day without sun, the only ' faint rwemVance of sunshine beiag the bright yellow of the » faded autumn leaves, H. T.] 615. llainlets. Hamlet is the old Aam, home, with the double * dim^utive suffix -leU 617. widely murmug'd, talked of with disapproval all over the ^ district. * 618. 1!]^eir own gray tower etc. The church ^people of the neighbouring village^ .left their own churches, and the Noncon- formists left their 'shapels, to come end hear AverilPs sermon. The former* as being more in sympathy with the d>ercaved man and Edxtls (who were church-people) and knowing them better, wore full mourning ; the latter hod only some bit of black about them as a token of their sorrow, plain-faced tabernacle, homely, unadorned place of worship (as opposed to the more ornamental Church). Tahemacle is the name given to the building used by the Jews for worship in their desert journey ; and hence is applied to (Nonconformist) places of w'QT' ship g^eralty. • 621. one night, a universal blackness ; being draped all over the •interior with black vehot hangings, as is custoxnarv at the funeral service of a person of importance. 622. greenish glimmerings, [greenish glass of the . laucet- windows. H., T.] lancets, lancet-w'indow^s ; high and narrow wrindowa pointed like a lancet. They are a marked characteristic \)f the eany English style of Gothic architectui’e. 628. tower'd,#.^, in the pulpit of the church. 624. wfilu iiiB hopes in either girtkVe. With the deaths of Leolin and Edi^, all his hopes «f the futujre we^e gope. 625. Bong 'iinwwB etc. , ~ A clergS^man, on entering ,,the pulpit :to preftch, b^ds his head in a silent,, preliminary pfii^er.f jerayed thwwith his hand pverwhis ^ facf? for so long g tfeat Jt ;iiieel^ed’.se .if- wsue atS^tid "by. iidinC * ma^etic lit lestj .ashy-pale* 58 AYLMKH’S FIELD. 627, 628. labour'd tbrc^ Hla brief prayer- prelude, said jriih difficulty th <4 sJiort opening prayer. ^ 628. grave the verse, reail out the verse oi the Bible as th<i tex^ of his sermon. 629, 630. ‘ Behold etc. Sec Bible, Mafthtto, xxiii.' 38. The words are uttered Christ in his lament over .TcrVsalcm, and prophesy the approaching destructjlm of her temple and her capture and desolation by the Romans. • ^ 632. from his height etc. Th^ ^eatness and ]oneliness o:^ lus grief gave force and passion to his words, as a streajii gains iinpeUis by falling from a hfight. 633. Bore down in flood etc., gave free vent to liis pen|-up feel- ings, and indignantly denounced the n^scliief and min that is^ wrought ihrthe world. A similar %ietaphor occurs in 11. 1 1 5*1 16. 635. Never since etc., «.e. never since Hhe Deluge, when for tlieir sins, all mankind were drowned except eiglit persons, viz.,J Noah and his wife and his threoKtons with their wives, gee Bible,* vi., vii. our bad earth. IJad is emx>hatic here — *our earth on account of its badness.’ ^ 630. rolling o’er the palaces of the proud. Cf, Milton’s {Par. Lofit^ XI. 747-749) description of the Dcfiigc : • “ All <lwclling8 else Flood overwhelm’d, and them witii all their x>omp Deep under water roll’d.” 639. When since etc,. This is a rhetoricfil fjiiostion, the undei*- s^xkI answer to w^hic^ is ‘Never.’ Hence it is equivalent to the ‘Never since’ 1. 634. which it replaces. Cf. “has often” followed by “bow often,’' 11. 699, 700, below. 640-Q^43. the idolatries ..in the Highest? The idolatrous practices, wliich (whether as the w^orshrp of images or of man’s own hists) in consequence of men’s low*^ and unenlight- ened ideas about religion, exalted tbeir false objects of devotion to the x>lace of the Deity, and in professing to worship Him worshipped only their own en*ors and vices. “The Highest” is* several times used in the Bible as a synonym for God. Sec xviii. 13, etc. shot up etc. In a clouTiy sunset, shafts of shadow are often shot up into the zenith. • 644-646. ‘ Gash thyself , . . thy%od. Tn the earlier times when coarse idolatry, such as that of Baal, was prevalent, the priests^ cut themselves with knives in honour of their god, and ili their* penances worshipped the worst qualities of their own nature?, since they attributed those worst qualities to their deity/ See Bible, 1 xviif. 28, M'^here •the priests of Baal are said to “ cut themselves after their manner wdth knives and lancets NOTES. 59 till* the blood gushed out upon tli^iii.” Ba&l, tneaniiig lord, nmster, was tl^ principal male deity of the Pha:ni<jjlaiis, 647-649. Then came a Lord.. th€||ro6e. Christianity then took the place of pagan idol|itry, and men i>ictured to theniselvtjs the daAvii of a milder and happier epoch. Cf. the description of the peaceful kingdom of Christ* in Bible, Imiaht xi. 6: “The calf and the young lion and t|ie failing together ; and a little child shall lead them.” And ib. xxxv. 1 : “ The wildeniess and the ^ solitary place shall be gfadTfor Jhem ; and the de.sert shall rejoice, ai}^ blossom aa the rose. ” 650. |CroifpL thyself etc. Wcak^nd miserable man now glori- fies himself, and worships, iiisteaa of Bfilil, his own low desires and pleasures. For worm applied to man, cf. Bible, Job, xxv* 6 ; > “ Man, that is a worn^” t0>l. blockish Ctod of acreafe, Atf allusion to the ftoman god Terminus, who presWIed over the boundaries of estates, and was represented without arms or feet. Aereaae, collection of acres; * landed ^tates ; cf. floweraae, 1.^0;^. Tennyson has also/r?<fV«//r, tfarlandatje, scaffoldcuja, mckat^e, ackatjv, rtwwiafje, 653. Thy God Is fkr dinfHised etc., instead of an individual idol, man now worships a wide-spread deity in the shajxi of parks and * mansions and money anfl titles and pedigrees, 656. Uvliig gold, gold that seems alive, because, being put out to interest, it keeps growing and increasing in amount. The living principle in money is that it can of itself reproduce money. The simple-hearted Edmund in 7 he Brook (1. 7) thought moaicy “ a dead thing.” 656. title-scrolls, [title-deeds. H. T.]* gorgeous heraldHes splendid coats of arms. * 1559. Thou wilt not gash etc., you practise no self -mortification in the worship of this god. 659. Fares richly etc., like the worldly rich man in Christ’s parable wlio “was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day” (Bible, Luke, xvi. 19). * 659, 660. not a hair Ruffled upon the soarfskin, you are so softly and delicately clad that not even a hair of your skin is discomposed. ^Scarf»kin is the epidermis or outer surface skin. 661, 662.** The deat h less ... cannot die, the that directs and controls you# mortal body is corrupted by your sensuality, and so doomed to eternal damnation. The representation * of th« human bo<^y as the house or mansion of the soul is common •in literature ; cf. Bhaks. 9&mp€st, I. ii. 457-451^ where Miranda saysf of Ferdinand ; * “ Hiere ?s nothing yi can dwell in such a temple ; If the ill spirit nave so fair a . house, G^d things will strive io witli ’t.” 60 AYLMER’S RIELP. And The. Promise of May^ ii. : ^ “ O thi4 mortal hnnsc, Which we arc ho^n into, is lianntetl by Tlie ghosts of the dead petssiops of dead men.” Again, St. Arjnes' &V, 19 : ^ “ So in mine earthly house I am.” Cf. also Tennyson’s poem, The Dcnerhd Ilomt^f moaning the dead body, ‘ , (i63. thou numherest, thou art numbered ; you profess to#)e a follower of Christ. . 664. ** Leave all and foUdw me.” Christ’s wor4s to* the rich young man were ** Sell all that thou hast, and distribiito ^into the poor, ... and come, follow me.” And P<^er says to C’hrist after- wards, “cLo, we have left^ all ahd followed thee.” »Seo J?fblo, Luke^ xviii. 22, 28. • 663. with His light about thy feet, with the kiiowle<lge of Jesus Christ to guide your step^ The old Baal-worshipners liad ' not your euliglitenmcnt au<l are therefore more oxousaule than you. 666. with His message cte., familiar as you are with (’hrist’s command to His followers to load uuwoildly lives. • 667. thy brother man, i,e.. the incainate Christ. C'f. Bible, Tlehi'ewH, il, 17 ; “ Whcrcfois? in all tilings it behoved him (i.e Jesus) to l»e made like unto his brethren” {Li. inankiiirl). 665. Bom Of etc. Christ's mothci, the Virgin Mary, belonged to the village of Xazaretb. His re])uled father, Josepli, was a crUpentcr. See Bibli? Lvke, i. 2t5, 27 ; Matthew, xiii. 63. 669. Wonderful etc. Vf. Bible, Isaiah, ix. 6: “His (#.e. the promised Messiah's) name shall be crtlled AVondcrful, Counsoltor, Might;yt (iod, Everlasting Father, Ihrince of Peace ” 670. the two, i.e. the worshimiers of Tiaal and the worshippers of their own lusts. C’f, Bible, Co(o^Hian% iii. 5 : “ Covetousness, the which is idolatry.” 671 . 672. passing through the Are Bodies. As was done in the worship .of Moloch Cf. Bible, Jeremiah, xxxii. 33 : “ They built the high places of Baal, . . to cause their sons anoVheir daughters to Kiass through the Are unto Moloch ” ; and Miltont Par. Lost, 1. 392-6 : a “ Pirftt Moloch, horrid king, besmear’d with blood Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears^ < Tliongk for the noise of artiSns and timbrels loud Their enildreii*e cries unheara, that past through fife To hie grim idol,” ^ ' 672-674. thru* Ihe The bUght ... liiceiieei. MigU is KOTES. 61 :;o taken in apposition with mtohCi^ I'he passage means that ;he modern worldling is crueuer than the old Molo^- worshipper Decause, while 1/he latter burnt the bodies, the Cornier destroys !:he souls of his children by subjecting them to the cornii^ing nfluence of mean aimslind ambitions, and so makes his children IS depraved as himself. • 675. Thy better horn et^., one of a higher natiire than you, n^ho is unhappy in being the child of such a parent as you ire. 6^. grow straight and iiair^, grow up. to be high -principled md pi^-hegrted. Observe the a^siopesis. Words like You know wnat would be such a child’ixate from what has happened to Edit]},” are implied. 6J7: I was bldil^ Seejl. 607^608. ^ 679. Fa^fer ^lan Rachel etc. Bee Bible, Geneva, fxix. 1-10, where the drst iheeSing of Jacob and Rachel at the well of Haran is described, palmy well, well surrounded with palm- brees. GBO. Fairer than Ruth etc. See Bible, Bnth, ii. 2>17, for the atory of Ruth’s gleaning ^om in the fields of Boaz. Cf, Hood, Buih : t * * She stood brdkst-high amid the corn. Clasp’d with the golden light of mom,’’ etc. 681. Fair as the Angel etc. Bee Bible, Luhe^ i. 28 : And the angel (Gabriel) came in unto her (Mary), and said. Hail, thou that art highly -favoured, the Lord is with thee ; blessed art thou among women. ” 6S:{. For 80 mine own etc. As the angelU: presence hired Mary’s house with divine radiance, so Edith’s coming lighted up our homes with joy. For = l say sudden light,” for such was the effect upon my own house. 684. that beam of Heaven, the welcome, blessed presence of Edith. 687. obUd of shame. Illegitimate child. 688 . Hie common care etc. A version of the well-know;n say- ing, “ Whom ejj^ry one cares for no one cares for.” A child who has no special^laim upon any one’s care gets little or no care bestowed upon him. 689-691. wasting bfs forgoften heert ... In gambpls, giving vent to his neg^c^ fe^ings of affection in play’ ^th Edith, os though she w^ere jSis mother. Bee 1- 169 and note* ! ^ r shch a, ^Hmx of wmisiiig etc.., there eucb a gentle and' cheeHng look in her blue eyes* So Ti^ipjays^ {Ihream of Fair The star-Hke ap^ws pf ayes ” lor oi Borrow y'" , 62 AYLMKFrS FrELP. 69**). all negrlecteA places etc., alj tboso wlio ^vore lonely pjnd uncared for by thoir follow-inon were iiiKtiiictivelv tilled with joy at tlic ai'^ht or her. (’f. Bibk^ Inaiuh, hi. 9 : ‘ Break forth into joy, rthig together, ye waste places of .lerij^saleni.'* tiOh. Low was her voice. Cf. Sliaka. King Leavy v. iti. 272'.*) : “ Her ((kirdelia'a) A’oiec waa ever soft, (lontle, and fow, an exeelleiit^ thing in woman.” 695 697. won mysterious way . silendb. It was strange how' « nearly deaf persons, to wliom a Idud voice was alijiost inandiUe, could' hear her soft accents. ^ 697. free of alms, liberal ii\ giving alms. Afm'*y a* contraction of the old trisyllabic aimessi' (from Latin elet nw^yna) is i^’operly ainguLir. ^ 698. ThC^hand etc. See above, t 151, etc. 701. laid . smooth, sincKitbed an<l arrad^cd Ills pillow when he was ill of fo\cr. Tennyson uses ftreron^y rather tlmu the weaker form / mv / vsA, in Enoch 280. The word occurs four times hi Shakspere 708. burthen. Tennyson prefers this, the older, si>ellmgto the commoner See also 1. 612. ^ 704. spiritual doubt, religious difliculty or perplexity. 70.>. when some heat etc , when a ilispnto broke out between you, 706. glide between your wraths etc , interpose bt'tween you uhen you were angry, and gently and <piietly put a stojj to the <XUVTol. a 707. walk’d, led hei life. 708. Wearing the light yoke etc., i.t. she was a disciple of the loving .K3SUS, \\hose mission waa one of peace. <7. Bible, MatthcfCy xi. 29, .80: “ 8’ake ray yoke upon you, and learn of mo ; for I am meek and lowly in heart For my yoke (?,e. ser- vice! is e.risy.” 709. Who stlU’d etc. When Christ and his disciples w'ere crossing the Sea of (laliloe, a great storm beat upon the boat, and they appealed to Him for help, Wheieui»<m He “arose, and rebuked the winds and the sen ; and there was a gseat calm.” See Bible, jMatfhcn\ viii. 28-27. TlJlie Sea of Galilee or Ltike of Tiberias lies to the north cast of Palestine. 710. one, i,fi. LeoUn. 712. he was wqythy love, Jie de 8 er\e 5 jl to be love«l. Love is to • be parsed as in the adverbial objective case, after worthy y denoting value. 715*717. this frail bark... captain’s knowledge in on extremity NOTES. 63 of suffering, weak men may put an end to their lives without being guilty of ^self-murder, and even without ki^pwing what they were doing. He suggests Uiat his brother committed suicide in a moment of Jjj’cnzy. The^“ pilot and the “ captain ” repreecnt tire conscious self of the man (the “frail bark * 717. hopewlth me, share my hope that Leolin was not respon- sible for his deed. • • 718. went hence with qtLajne, died a shameful death. For the repetition of shame^ see note to h 487. 7^^Nor mine the fault, and I am not to be blamed. 720.^Alcanf chairs, chairs in wfiich the loved one will no longer sit. Cf. Longfellow, J^esignationt 3, 4 : “ I'lierc is n^lircside, howsoever defended. But has one vacant elMLir ! ” And In M^orlam, : “ To see the vacant chair, and think IQicw good ! how kind ! •iid ho is gone.'* Also To J. S. 22, 23 : “ 1 o years his chair is seen Empty befoys us.” widow d walls, house bereft of the loved inmates. Tennyson uses wido‘ 0 }*d (for hereft) of “ a dying king, Laid widow’d of the power in his eye ” in Morte <VArihnr^ 122, and of his heart in In Memoriam^ liXXXV. 8o “widow’d hour” for ‘hour of be- reavement,’ ib. XL. 723. Sons of the frlebe, farm labourers, j:pstics ; Lat. adscriji^i cflehm, those attached to the soil. The usual plwase is “ sons of the soil ” ; in his avoidance of the commonplace, Tennyson sub- stitutes glebe for hoU ; see (loneral Introduction II. (2), (S). Glehe is the Lat. glebo., a clod of earth. Or<linarily the word^means land belonging to a parish church or to an ecclesiastical benefice. With other firowns etc., i.e, their frowns were frowns of anger, and not such as those which contract the brow in the glare of sunshine. 724. for sunu^r shadow, to shelter their eyes from the sun. 725. it fi6em*<!r it seemed to himself. 726. No lAde sheet-lightnings etc., when he saw that tlie preacher was not expressing mei€ genei^l rogi’ct at what had hap- pened, but was making a bitter personal attack upon him. Folemic bratorwis often compared to thunder or lightning ; cf. Milton, Mar. kegainedt iv. 270, 271,,bf the Athenian ofatprs, who Fulmm’d over Greece To Madedon, and Artaxerxes’ Hirone.’^’ And Aristophanes, Aclmrniam^ 531, of ^rpawr*, 4fip6ifTa, 64 AYLMER’S FIELD. ^vPtKVKa T^v jEXXd^a, h'* liglitei^ed^ ho thundered, ho throw (]lreecc into t\ ferment. ” 728. Sat anger > charm’d from sorrow. His am^cr acted as a spcjU upon him to prcvont any indicatim of grieL soldler-like, holding his head hig)i. 729. when the preacher's etc., when the tones of tfie preacher’s voice softened as he described, on^ after anoiher, the amiable qualities of Edith. 4 , 732. twitch, convulsive mot omen t, iudicat^vo of ein^jou. iron, rigid, inflexible. For ’IVunyson’s inetax>horical use o/^ihis wonl, cf. A Dream of Fair i^'Yamen^ 106 : “ iron yA»,rs 3/attd, Port 1., will. iv. ; ‘'iron skies”; In JUemorm^n, xo. : '‘an iron welcome. ” 733. h<Jld up, retain his flrnmcLB. 734. 1 shall shame etc., /.<?. by losing my self -control and giving vent to my feelings. i 738. O thou that hiUest eti^ Tho passage is adapted from* Christ’s reproachful lament over Jerusalem (see note to 1. 629), Bible, Maft?ien\ xxiii. 37 : “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stoucst them that are sent unto thee 1 ” And Luket xix. 42: “If thou hadst known, .. the things wbicle belong unto thy peace J ” Tho xjreacUcr applies Christas reproach against tho prophet-killing Jeiusalom to Sir Aylmor’s conduct towards his daughter — ‘ Would tliat you, who have caused your daughter’s death, had understood what was conducive to your own happiness and ours ! ’ 4 J 4 I. Is there no V'X'Ophet etc. Christ in tho words quoted above refers to < the Hebrew prophets, such as Zecliariah, who was stoned at the commandment of King Joash for denouncing his idolatry (Vtro7iicIes, xxiv. 19-22), and John the Baptist, who § reached in the wilderness of Judiea, “ Repent ye : for the king* om of heaven is at hand” {Maitheio^ iii. 2 ). But, Averill says, there are other prophets liesides these ; our own children, who are bettor Christians than ourselves and who, by their lives and conduct, call us from sm to godliness, are prophets and teachers * to us. 743, On the narrow way, leading a Christian lif^ The reierence is to Bible, vLi. 13, 14 : “ Broad is the way that leadeth to destruction . . Narrow is tho way which leadeth unto life.” 745. “Come up hither.” CL Bible, jRcw-fafwa, xi. 12: **And^ they (the t^o witnessoH for God) heard a grea^voioe from^oaven saying unto tiie|jn. Come up hither.”*,, t ^ * 746. Ik there no stoning etc., Le. Edith and LeoUn, though not actually stoned (as Zeolienah «was), have been killed hy hereh treatment they received. NOTES. 65 7^. No desolation etc., i.%. our homes have l>een desolated, not l>y sword ayl fire (as Jerusalem was), but by tlfe loss of our loved ones, caused by human wilfu^oss and cruelty. 750. darker, earthliet. The loss of my brother has caSt a gloom ovef my life and madc^ne feel hard and unspiritual. 751. lie Is* past your prayers, he is dead and therefore you can* not pray for him. Priiyers tor the dead ai'c not recoirnised in the JSnglish Church. 7i^ Not past etc., but he is' not beyond the reach of Cod’s abuiNlant mercy. 7511. mnfi:- suffering*, patient under wrong. 754. ^ poor in spirit, ’Mmmblc-inindcd. Cf. Bible, J/aW/iew, v. 3, w^crc Christ says, ^^IBlcsseclaare t^e poor in spirit : ^or theirs is the kingdom of lieaveii.” 755. Have twisted Sack etc., men nowadays have become so ^laughty and self-opinionated, that the term “poor in spirit” has suffered t» reaction in its meaning, and “poor-spirited” is now used in the sense of weak and cowardly. Similarly si/fy once mejUit “blessed”; and “ plain,* artless,” has gained the sense of “foolish.” Cf. the Greek word properly “good- latured, guileless,” and fSien “silly.” For the expression in the text, cf. Lochdey IlcUl Sixty Years A fttVy 235, 236 : “ Remember how the course of Time will swerve, Crook and turn upon itself in many a biickward streaming curve.” And PaUice of Art, 257 : “ Back on herself her serpent pride had cur?d.” 758. To blow etc., to publish and denounce everywhere the cruel deaths of Edith and Leoliu, who were sacrificed *to the pride of Sir Aylmer. Cf. Shaks. Machtth, i. vii. 21-24 : “ Pity, like a naked new-born babe. Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall, blow the horrid deed in every eye.” 759. Bent lik^ etc. Cf. Bible, Jvdgts, xix. 29, A Levite, whose concubine had been outraged by the men of Gibeah, divided her dead body into twelf^ pieces and sent them to all the tribes of Israel as a summons to avenge the wrong. * 760. But 3ronder,^f.<?. in France. See note to L 265. eaxth U^btens etc. The innate wickedness of the wbrld (which is coi^aVed to the earth’s central fires) is bursting out into a blase ►in Ironce. ^ * 762. The red ftnit etc», the biopdshed tvg^uliing from ai. fotmet 66 ArLMER’ft FIELD, BaaLworship (see 11. 650 cto., 670 e|;c.). The luoiitiing is ihal^tho murder of ihf* French nobility by the Rovolutiouists is the out- come of the former’s previoufijuxury and greed, wiio “worshipped thoir own lusts.” ^ ^ 763. The heads etc. Tn 1793, du;^iug the Roign of Terror, the guillotine was daily at work in Faris and other French cities, nliiig I^uis XVI. wds beheaded on Sldst January ; i^hilip, Duke of Orleans, on 8th November.* ^ 764. They cling together etc. ^ LHc allu<les to a rciiort, more horrible than credible, that, when the hesids Wefc taken jyfl of the sa<‘k, two were sometimes: found clinging together, oi^'^ving bitten into the other in the momentary convulsion that followed decapitation. JL T.J « 765. ahf mbles, a slaughter -honse ; lilf butchers’ stalls, irom M. E. fichante?, a bencli, Lat. acabefhim. a foot-stgol. naked marriages etc., naked lueu and women, tiod to each other, are hurled from the lu idges over the Loire, After the defen t of the in - 4 surrcctioii in La Vendee, in the tiorth -west of France, Carrier, the republican ^•cpreaontaiive at Nantes, ordered numerous prisoners, tied up in sacks, to be thrown into the river Loire. These executions were called Noyada^y or Drownings, and at first took S lace at night. But “by degrees, daylight itself uitiies&e# foyades r women and men are tied together, feet and feet, hands and hands ; and flung in : this they call Mar%agi> R^puhllcamy Republican Marriage Dumb, out of suticTing now, as pale swoln corpses, the victims tumble confusedly seaward along tlio ’ Loiie stream; the tide rolling them back: clouds of ravens di^rken the river ; u«lves prowl on the shoal-places ” (Carlyle’s French Jicoo[u>ti<Pi), 766. evar-murder’d, sufienug under continual executions a.nd massaorcs. 767. ahores that darken etc., the packs of wolves that collcot to feed on the corpses, form dark {latches on the banks of the rivers. See note to 1. 764. For darlrn^ of. tloldsmith, Deserted Viltaycy 401, 402 : “ Downward they move, a melancholy band, pass from the shore and darken all the 8t]i2.nd.” 76S. the Bicik eea. By the Pathetic Fallacy, the ..ea is repre- sented as sick or disgusted at l^e blood which the rivers carry down to it. 769. Is this a time etc. This is not a fit tifiie, when lowe/ orders in Franoe are turning in wilj rage upon the aristocracy^ for mo to add to the excitement by denoitnoiiig the crime *of an English aristcNTat. , ^ 770. Was ihia a time etc. - With the dreadfnl exantnle of NOTES. 67 the french aristocracy before their surely this was not a fit time for the Ayhners to display their arrogancy. 771. Fharaolrs darkness, Le. a ^hick and palpable darkness, such as that which couf|tituted the niutli plague of Egypt. ^See Bible, 3C. ^2 1-23. folds^ enfolding darknei^s. 772. Wlii6h hid the Holiest etc., which, at the Crucifixion, hid Christ from the people’s ga:9e shortW before ^e died. See Bible, ^J^/aUheWf xxvii. 45, etc. ^ ' 774. our narrow world etc., small community cannot help dis^lfismg it. * cailVasB, lit. * to sift through canvas * ; Ok. KdvyapllKkL>Q.im cannahis, hemp. # 776. their own desire accomplish'd, the accomplishment of their o^^\ desire ; a latiii construction, cf. 1. 637 and note. lTi‘ Their own gray hairs %tc., bring their aged dives to a sorrowful diose. Cf. Jiible, Genesis^ xlii. 38, where Jacob, when I asked to part with Benjamin, says “ Then shall ye bring down • my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.” 778, 7i1‘l. broke the bond ... times to come, succeeded in sever- ing the connexion between Edith and Leolin, wdiose marriage wotild have perpetuated the Aylmer family. For fro7id, cf. 1. 4!^. % 780. wove coarae webssetc., devised low and vulgar schemes to beguile their innocent daughter. The allusion is to the parents’ attempts to “ sell her for her good,” related above, 11. 484, etc. 781. Grossly, in unseemly fashion, without delicacy, dear daughter’s good. 01>servo the bitter irony of the expressions “ dear” and **good ” here, and cf. 11. 403, 848. Goody ».c. good according to their notioiis, but really harm# O 7S2. knew not what they did. Adapted frorn Christ’s prayer for«His crucifiers, Bible, Luke,, xxiii. 34 ; “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” • 785. left them bare, have they ‘not forfeited our love and reverence? 786. take their heritage, i.e. a stranger will be their heir. Cf, •1. 779. 788. one stOM etc. Their home will be rendered utterly desolate. The ^prophecy was literally ful6lle<l, since “ the great Hall was wholly hrolcm down ” (1. 846). Cf, Bible, Marh Wi % where Christ, foretellii^ the di^sti'uction of the Temple, says : • Tiiere shall not be lext one stone upon anot|^r, that* shall not 4>0 thrqivn down.”* ^ . f 7921. w Wa be£cn^ tlie time of,His anguish of the . • 794; Wbt gold. Cf;. Bible, Sfaithew^ 'kxUi ; 19 1 jg^dfi^isrhich »»y> whosoever 68 AYLMER’S FIELD. fiiliall swoar by tlie tempi#; it is nothing ; but whosoever ^all swear by theisgold of the teiriple, he is a debtor — a passage in which Christ coiKlemna the sophistical distinctions of the Scribes an<l^ Pharisees Ijc tween valitr and invalij-]. oaths. The Aylmera are compared to tliese quibbling, self-deluding Pharisees, iii their narrow, mistaken views of dutfy. ' 795. Their own tfaditious God. ^Cf. Bible, Mark, vii. 13, \rhc‘i*e Christ condemns the Piiarisecs fgr “ making the word of (^orl of none ciFeot through ygur tradition.” Similarly the' Aylmers made an idol of their family pride. ' c? ^ 700. a world’s curse, execrated by mankind. Cf. ’^ihlG^^tSaiah, Ixv. 15 : “Ye (the unfaithful Jews) shall leave your name for a curse unto iny chosen.” « 707. “How like a hcav^^ diill^refrain^of prophetic griei^nd indignatiem recurs the dr*eadful text, ‘ Your house ^ left unto you desolate ! (Van Dyke’s Po*>try of mnvyfiOH.) 70S. brook’d, could not endure ; Old Eng, hvAcan, to use, , enjoy. 700. her heart etc., her feelings had been stirred and gave her Ilf) rest, remorselessly, unsparingly, unremittingly. 800. crampt-up, stilled, kept from oi^tward manifestation, fo^ fear she should “ shame herself and him ” (1. 734). ^ 801. unresisting, listless, conqiliant ; especially in not having dared to oi)pose liei' husband in regard to Edith. See 11. 28-30. 802. their eyes, the lof»k.s of tlie congregation, 803. the curtains of their seat. The squire of an English c^inti’y parish has, had in old times, a special pew, of lai’ge dimensions, often provided with curtains which run roiind the top of the sides. The old coloured curtains had been replaced by bla^ ones in sign of mounung, and Lady Aylmer had taken care that these sJiould be of the best velvet. 804. of the costliest, /.e, of the costliest kind. Cf. “When the room was at its fullest,” where is understood. 805. fain had she, she would have gladly. Cf. 1. 407 and« note. 807. Inch by inch. The repetition of an ac^n was denoted in Old English by repeating the adverbial phrase^ as by m^ch, by inch ; thou the first hy" wa% omitted, and so we get inch by inch, 808; Wifelike, with the craving for syiujathy' and f-upport^ characteristic Qf a wife, he yeil^ etc. Ine gesture showed that hie feelings were overcoming hijfi. . 812. na've, the niuhlle ai* lK>dy of a church. From Lat. namm, accusative of 7iam>, a ship, the early Christian Church being ^ien likened to a ship<tosscd by waves. ^ ISrOTES. 69 814. Seam’d, wrinkled, q^low, ^ivial, petty. 815. Lord o:& all the landscajpe. Cf. 1. 21 and*note. Land- scape, formerly landakip^ contains^he Dutch suffix -schap ^ Eng. -ship, as in friendf<hip,% 816. last, furttiest, most distant. 818. the middle aisle, th^ middle of the aisle, — a Latinism, like media nrhs^ the middle city, Le. the middle of the city. Aidc^ a passage in a church, is from L^t. eda^ a wing. i20. to hlB ^eath, to the slaughter-house, where he w’as to be kiUe^ • 823. flnials, the carved ornamental woik on the top of the pointdi ends of the peu’s, wdth which they are jiniahed off (Lat. linishing, tcrinffial). 824. lyehgate, or -f/rt/P, |j»c;-ga;i^c, Iiuijl ]Vlidc^|^ Eng. Itchf a body, a corpse ; a churchyard gate with a porch, under which, at a funeral, the bier was rested while the intro<luctory part of the biirtal service w’as read, ^’hc wortl occurs in l{ch-w(wej the wake or watch held over a corpse, and in the name of the English city, Lichheld. 825. porch, ?*.c. the pB>rcb or entrance of the clmrch. 826'. the gate, i,€. the lychgate, which led through the churcli- yard or burial-ground to the church itself. 827. Save under pall with hearers, except in their coffins. The coffin is covered with a bhw-k cloth or pall, which is held in the hineral procession of a great person, l>y^)all-bcarers, Cf. ttW- lington Ode, 6 : “ Warriors ciCi’ry the warrior’% pall. ” •829. went to seek her child, followed her child to the grave ; ilied. ^ 831. t^e change and not the change, the change in his life caused by the loss of his wife jind child, unaccompanied by any change in his material surroundings. The oxymoron is like the Gk. prirrip dpdfnap, ‘ a mother that is no mother ’ (Hopheclcs, Mectra^ 1154). Cf. “faith unfaithful” and “falsely true” {Lancelot wn^ Elaine^ 872), “ Imrn- unborn ” {Lockaley Halt Sixty Years After ^ 98), and note to 1. 515. 832. those llzt eyes etc. The Day-Dream, 43, 44 : , “Those old portraits of old kings, ThSt watch the sleepers from the wall. ” . ^35. Began to droop, & fall, he grew feeble in body and mind. 837. Dead, t.e. mentally dead. As far as his intellect was con- oemed. he was dead two vears before his actual death. 70 AYLMER’S Fri^. C 839. His keepers;, his ati^ndants ;arho took care of him. JETe escaped theinj^y dying. 840. the narrow gloom, the ^iarkness of the narrow grave. 84) . wanted, was without, at his end,^t his funeral. 842. The dark retinue etc., the procession of mourners that attend the funeral of a rich man merely out of respect for his wealth and station. Dark means * wed^ring black clothes ^ in sign of mourning. Hatinm is acceniKid on thffe second, instead of the first syllable, as in The Princess, Ki. 179 : “ Went fdrth I in 16ng | reti|nae f611| owing lip And Qninevere, 396 : • * **Of his 1 and her | retllnue m6v|ing th^y.” , Milton and Shakspere always accent the word in this way. 844. a v&lsh'd race, the extinction of his family. 846. the ^olet etc. [Some one strewed violets on the grave of Nero. H. T.] 847. paroell’d, divided, <listributed. 848. their daughter’s good. See notes to 11. 483, 781. 840. the hawk’s cast, feathers, fur,' or other indigestible matters ejected from the stomach hy^a hawk after he has devoured ixis prey. his run, the burrow or tunnel excavated by the mole, a small quadruped, which loads a subterranean life, feedhig chiefly on earth- worm.s. mole is a curtailed form of the older rmldwarp, mould- thrower. 850. hedgehog, a small, prickly-backed, insectivorous quad- rn|Md, which mak^.s a nolo or iiest^or itself six or eight inches deep, plantain, a common weed, with broad, strong leaves. 851. fondles, by passing his fore-paws over it. 852. sfow-worm (or blind-worm), a reptile that feeds on earth- worms, insects, etc., [properly slay- worm. It was l>elieved to bo venomous. H. T.] weasel, a small animal with a thin, long body. It feeds on mice, rats, moles, and small birds. 833. The lines 849-S33 admirably picture the complete desola- tion that marks the site of the “gjreat HalL” It ilaas become ^e fs^iiliar haunt and home of timid wild animals tWt. ^un -any tracq^of human habitation. INDEX TO TyE NOTES. [77i€ refiremi^ to ^ JialicH denote, sithjecis,} A Ahtolnic clauses, lOH, 227, 339.^ A hstract for conn e /# , 177 ^>99. According heart*3, 453. I Acreage, 051. Acilinonies, 503. Adulteries, 376. Agluist, 330. A fhtcratnif compound^, 1 68,256. Allow (-is' approve), 120. Allowance, 410. Amulet, 507. Angei chRrm’d, 728. Aposiopisu, 070, Aylmer Aylmer, 13 Ayliuer;wn, 123. B 15,ul, 644, 050, 005, 671. Bal'^yisms, 63S3? Tlaiidit, 507. Bar, 118, 134. ^Mh% The, 27, 205. Beam’d their beat, 60, 227. Bedftdckn, 178.* BeesMiiig, 406. Beetling, 220. liefeol’di fiOO. Benchers, 47S Bent, 445. Bine, 113. Bum, 405. Black republic, 529. Blight, f)72. Blockish God, 651. Blossom ball, 87. Blues and rods, 251. Hoirdcr mairiage, 263. Bottom, 254. Bounteously made, 74. Brand of John, 509. Breathmg \dnle, 449. Breaker, 594. Bitsllc up (of hair), 42. Btoken iing, 135. ^ Brood mg fcheltcr, 138. IJrookM, 798. Brothei roan, 607. Burr, 1 13. Burthen, 703. C Caird to the bar, 59. Canvass, 774. Cast. 481. Caucasians, 348. Chancellor, 397* Change and not the change, 831. Charier, 448. 72 AYLMKR’S FIELD. CheBtniit. Child of shame, 687. Childly way,* A, 181. Coarse webs, 780. Cob^d 539. Common care, G88. C Gordon, 500. Costly Sahib, 233. * (Joniiier, 282. Comity Cod, 14. (h’ackliiig into flames, 586. (h*ami»'d-ap, 800. Cross-lightnings, 129. 1 ) Daisy-ehaitV; 87. Darken, 767. Daughters of Cod, 45. Dear diminutives, 539. Dccad, 82, 442. Deedful, 196. Despot dream, 527. Differeuces, 274. Dimpling, 149. Down the wind, 495. Dying house, 661. K Eaves, 163. Ecliptic, 193. Edged ’w^th death, 595. Kgalitics, 265. Kfdost born, 484. ’Em, 188. Ever-murdor\l, 766. F Fain, 467, 805. Fairy footings, 90, ,, palms, 91. . pines, 92 F4S^r, 491. ^IFVjseue, 630. Feverous, 701. Fi»t, 26. Finely, 75. Finials, S23. Five-beaded, 1S6. Fixt eyes, 832. Flainetf, 409. FVittering, 1!F5. Fling. 399. Flotik, 361, 600. Flow’d and ebb’d, 218 •Flowerage, 203. Flush, 459. Foam’d away his lfeart,^42. Fold, 361. Foreran, 80. Forged ,«96. Frail bark, 715. . Frmch Mevolution, *265;' 464, 760 etc. ^ Frothfly, 530. G Ghast^ sack, 704. Gilly flowers, 159. (Uebe, 723. Go-between, 523. Golden hopes, 464. Gorgeous heraldries, 656. Greenish glimmerings, 622. Grizzled, 8. Grossly, 781. H 'Hamlet, 616. Harrow’d, 607. Hawk’s cast, 849. Heat of difference, 705. Heaved shouldef , .466. Hedgehog, 850. Hedgemw texts, 171. Holly -hocks, 164. Home-circle, I Ice-ferns, 222. IdioW, dSO. 73 IND^X TO NOTES. Tin memorial intimacy, 39, 13g. In ftood, 339, 633. Inch by inch, S97. Insipid, 28, Inverted scripture, An,*44- Irony, 121, 240, 463, 781 J .lasminc, 157. 353. K Kissinff'liis vows, 472 L ‘Liaiicets, 622. LaiidscajTe, 816. LatmisniHt 375, 537, 776, 818. Lean heart, 526. Light yoke, 708. , Lightning of the hour, 441. Lintel, 331. Living gold, 655. Lodges, 145. Long arms, 588. LoA^y -lovely, 168. Lychgate, 824. • 1V1 Magic cup, 142. Magnetic, 625. Make-believes, 95. Malayan amuck, 463. * Mammon, .374. Manelike, 68. * Manorial lord, ^13. Marestail, 92. Martin -haunted, 163. Martin’s jsummer, 560. *Maste]»of all, 132.* Meteor of a season, 205. Middle>aisle, 818. , MidrilOr, 15. MildewM> t383.. Milky-way, 160. Milfeiinial, 514. ^ Mine of memories, 10. Minion, 53.3. Minuet, 207* Mock sunshine, 609. Alole, 849^ Moral of ilip, poem^ 1. Music of the moon, J02. • Mystic star, 72. N Naked marriages, 765. Narrow' gloom, 840. ,, world, 774. • Nave, 812. • Nest in bloom, A, 150. ^Niggard, 450. Nightly, 490. Northern Dreamer, 161. Not proS^en, 53. O Of (=by). 167. Of the costliest, 804. Ordeal by kindness, 561. Oxymoro-ty 51.5, 831- » D Tall, 827. Palmy w cli, 679. Parcel -bearded, 152. ParcellM, 347. Parent 168. Parish wits, 521. Passes, 209. Piissing thro’ the fire, 671. Pensive beauty, 70, • Pharaoh’s darkness, 771. Pheasant lords, 381. Phosphorescence, 116. , Pitted, 93, 256.* Plantain, 850. Plight, 135. Pock-pitten, 256. 74 AYLMEE^S Poor in spirit, 754. Poppy-tnmgtecl, 31. Practise, 30i:J. Pni^^er-preltitle, G28. Prcccidefft, 436. Proven, 5.3, 182. J^roverlK 188. Pyramidal, 20. Q Quintessence, 388. E % Range of i^ofs, 47. Rated, 378. Red fruit, 762. , , rose, 50. Remorselessly, 799. ItepeMHon of a pAmse, 428. JRtpeiUion of a word^ 487, 572, 661-2. Retinue, 842. Hhyihm, 80, 168, 209, 441, 5S3, 586. Rigid colour, 281. Rival rose, 455, I^tatory Thumbs, lt9. Ruled the hour, *194. Run, 849. S Sacred, 425. Saturate, 377. Scarf^kin, 060. Seam’d, 814. Seconded, 559. Semidealousy, 189. Shambles,, )^05. Sbeet-iightnings, 726. ^ Shook, 62 . ;; Shrill, 68a V;Siek.isWia,',708.'- Sicklier iteration, 299. Sleepy Land, A, 33. Slight, 238. * 1 Slow-y|orm, 852. I Sinatteringly, 433. . S^ldior-likc, *728. . >So|^s of men, *44. ,, ,, the glebe, 723, Soul-lftnitten, 525. * Soxviid-play, 482 . Sow’d her name, 88. Spiritual doubt, 'E)4. Stale devil. 290. Star of morning, 692. •StifiFcnflig, 273. Straight and fair, GIB, Stumbliftg-blocks of scorn, 538. Sunimcr-blanch’d, 152. , , burial, 1 04. # ,, shadow, 724. Swang, 19. T Tabernacle, 018. Telepathy, 578. Temple-eaten teims, 105. Tented winter-field, The, llC The (instrumental), 384. 33tlC' scrolls, 656. Touchwood, 514. Traveller’s joy, 152. Treasure- trove, 615. Trembling (trisyll. ), 585, , Twisted back, 755. Twitch, 732. Two-footed, 126. •v . Uuimpa$sion’d, 334. * Unresisting, 861. ^ V. Vacant ohau^» ?29i VanUh’d.';race,/644< ^ ' 75 JNDJ|X TO NOTES. spirits, 201. Violftt, 845. • W Waning rod, 406. Wanted, 811. Warm, 260. •Warm-ldue breathings, ]^5. Waited ( - spent), lOi). Wealthy scabbard, 250. Wear ti^ gat^nd, 1 12. • Weasel. 802. Weaiheftiock'd, 17 •Whi^o rose, 51. Widow’d walls, 720. Wife-huntinc. 212. 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