its ways, they at all events possessed in compensation an abundance of imagination. Their poems lack humanity and, even in many cases, spontaneity. They were exercises, tasks, and truly "lab'ring lines," and though the execution of them was worthy, they remained inanimate and dull. It is perhaps needless to record that the volume dropped almost unheeded from the press. The Gentlemen's Magazine for July 1827 contained a brief and kind critique, in which the verse was commended as "promising." The Literary Chronicle said the volume exhibited "a pleasing union of kindred tastes." Beyond that there was nothing. Not until it was a relic was that little volume to become treasured and famous, and many years were to pass before the two brothers were to "emerge from the shade," as in boyhood they had dreamed they might do. The literary partnership cemented the friendship between them. A community of thought and likeness of temperament had already drawn them closely to each other, and how loving and genuine their attachment was can be learned from the beautiful tribute which was paid to Charles Tennyson in In Memoriam Thou and I are one in kind, As moulded like in nature's mint; Thro' all his eddying coves; the same One lesson from one book we learn'd, Charles Tennyson, under the name of Tennyson-Turner, was yet to win renown as a sonneteer; but of many happy days those were among the happiest when, with his poetbrother, he roamed about the Lincolnshire wolds, or stood by his side listening to the roar of the northern sea. B CHAPTER II. AT CAMBRIDGE: "TIMBUCTOO." "Old wishes, ghosts of broken plans, And phantom hopes assemble; "Thro' many an hour of summer suns, I kiss the lips I once have kissed; The gas-light wavers dimmer; My college friendships glimmer." – Will Waterproof's Lyrical Monologue. THE time came when the two brothers were to leave Lincolnshire for the first time. Frederick, the eldest of Dr Tennyson's sons, had been for two years at Cambridge University, where he had maintained the reputation won at Eton for dexterity in Latin and Greek verse-writing. In 1828 Charles and Alfred Tennyson entered Trinity College, an epoch-marking event in the lives of both. From sleepy, out-of-the-world Somersby to the centre of intellectual activity was a change which could not fail to leave its impress upon the minds of the Lincolnshire rector's sons. They arrived at Cambridge when, by fortuitous circumstances, there were gathered within the University a number of young men upon whom the seal of a high destiny had been fixed. The magnetism which draws man to man, and which causes them to seek their affinities, attracted into one small circle the Tennysons, Richard Chenevix Trench, Monckton Milnes (afterwards Lord Houghton, who towards the close of his life meditated writing the Laureate's biography), William Makepeace Thackeray, George Venables (sometimes supposed to be the "George Warrington" of Pendennis), James Spedding, J. M. Kemble, W. H. Brookfield ("Old Brooks "), and Kinglake the historian. But above and beyond these was Arthur Henry Hallam, son of Hallam the historian, of Clevedon Court, Somerset, who in October 1828 entered Trinity College, being then in his eighteenth year. Undergraduate life was not a dull and wearisome round of study, and these kindred spirits found plenty of opportunity for communication Tennyson was not a resident in the College-he lived first in Rose Crescent and afterwards at Corpus Buildings-but Hallam had a room within "the reverend walls," and there the brilliant young men were wont to meet for interchange of thought. In 1829 a number of them were set in friendly competition for the Chancellor's gold medal for a poem, the subject, oddly chosen, being Timbuctoo. Hallam and Monckton Milnes were believed to stand the best chances of success, and each was fairly confident of the prize. Milnes wrote with pride to his father to say that his verses were admired by his own friends, while Hallam boasted that he had written "in a sovereign vein of poetic scorn for anybody's opinion who did not value Plato and Milton." His poem, which was afterwards published among his collected works, is in the difficult terza rima of Dante. (Alfred Tennyson hung aloof from this contest, but urged by his father to compete, he revised and adapted a poem on Armageddon, finished some years before, and submitted it for judgment. This poem was in blank verse, and Tennyson thus overcame the obstacle of rhyme, which had been viewed with consternation when the subject was first announced, A protest had, indeed, been made that there was no rhyme to Timbuctoo, but Thackeray with ready wit immediately scribbled down the lines In the vale of Cassowary, By the plain of Timbuctoo, There I ate a missionary, Body, bones, and hymn-book, too.1 In the Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of June 12, 1829, I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks Had fall'n below th' Atlantic, and above The silent heavens were blench'd with faery light, Uncertain whether faery light or cloud, Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars Were flooded over with clear glory and pale. I gazed upon the sheeny coast beyond, There where the Giant of old Time infix'd The limits of his prowess, pillars high Long time erased from earth: even as the Sea When weary of wild inroad buildeth up Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves.3 As he gazes upon the wondrous scene, "legends quaint 1 I give the likeliest of several versions, one of which has been attributed to Sidney Smith. 2 Another story, perhaps the invention of an enemy, is that one of the examiners marked on the MS. "v. q." (meaning "very queer "), and it was mistaken for "v. g." ("very good "). 3 Cf. "yeasty surges" in The Sailor Boy. and old come to his mind, and he muses upon the time when Atalantis was "a center'd glory-circled memory," and when imperial Eldorado was a dream to which "men clung with yearning hope which would not die." As when in some great city where the walls Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces thronged Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith The poet, too, finds the desire glowing within him to know where the vanished splendours are. "The moonlight halls," the "cedarn glooms," the "blossoming abysses"— where are they? Then I raised My voice and cried, "Wide Afric, doth thy Sun As those which starred the night o' the elder world? Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo A dream as frail as those of ancient time?" There was "a curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light,' and a rustling of white wings, and a young Seraph stood beside the questioner. I looked, but not Upon his face, for it was wonderful With its exceeding brightness, and the light Of the great Angel Mind which looked from out The starry glowing of his restless eyes. I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit With supernatural excitation bound |