The healing of the nations

Front matter

Class :_:

Rnnlr

Gopiglitft _

Contents

PAGE FOREWOBD V

CHAPTER

I. The Holy Cup of Healing 13

Chapter I The Holy Cup Of Healing

It is not my purpose to offer any criticism of a work so instinct with the true spirit of poetry and so remarkable for its artistic beauty of execution as Lord Tennyson's Idylls of the King. That is a task on which competent critics have labored with much diligence, the outcome of which labor has been, on the whole, to prove the poet's right to rank with Wordsworth, Coleridge, Browning, and Francis Thompson, among the great spiritual forces of the nineteenth century. And besides, the songs which make up the Idylls have been so well received by the great mass of English readers from its first appearance, and have been so largely drawn upon by many eminent authors and artists in their anxiety to enrich and embellish their own productions, that no other proof is needed of its high merit and strong appeal.

The Author's Purpose

I have a much humbler aim, which is a three- fold one; and that is, in the first place, to refer to some of the sources whence the poet derived the material for his song; secondly, in the light of it, to examine the poet's attitude toward the Christian faith; and lastly, to offer a few simple reflections on Christian ethics and vital religion, based on the story of the quest of the Holy Grail. I believe that in the Idylls and In Memoriam we shall find that we have, not only a fairly complete expression of the poet's own belief, but also a statement of the broader and more cultured type of Christianity as most generally accepted by thoughtful men. They are both poetic and prophetic utterances, anticipating the latest findings of theological science, anticipating also, as already stated, some of the more important developments of recent history.

The Sources

"King" Arthur. It is not necessary, to our understanding and enjoyment of the poem, to discover whence Tennyson quarried the material which he has turned to so good a purpose, for it is complete and perfect in itself; but it will greatly add to our appreciation of its power and significance to remember that this intensely spiritual song is based on two traditions which at first were quite separate and distinct, and in no way related to each other. These were The History of King Arthur and The Quest of the Holy Grail. The History of King Arthur and his noble Knights of the Table Round is the first of all favorite English romances. It is a curious medley of history and myth, — tradition, imagination, and true report, hopelessly interwoven. The first advent of the story in Britain was probably in the shape of a Welsh bardic epic, sung to a primitive harp in the castle halls and monasteries and on the battlefields of old Wales.

The Lure of Romance

There are some things which one would like to believe in, though they be as elusive and unsubstantial as a dream or a vision of the night, and among these are some of the traditions concerning Arthur, "king of Britain," the hero of British romance and the principal figure in British mythology. Historical criticism, in its devotion to the bare truth, the unvarnished facts, has made sad havoc of some of these interesting old legends. We live in a practical age; we set the utmost value upon the sifting methods and calm conclusions of the sober philosopher; he is our true benefactor who can separate real facts and things from mere fancies, false marvels, and obsolete beliefs, who shatters fancy's "dome of many-colored glass" to let in upon us the white radiance of reality.

And yet, sometimes, sooth to say, we quietly ask ourselves, whether the loss does not in some cases outweigh the gain. Who has not felt a twinge of regret in the hour of disillusionment, when

"Life moves out of a red flare of dreams Into a common light of common hours" ? 1

What a pleasant thing it is to be able to believe that the mountains and forests, deep lakes and night-meadows were once peopled by jinn and giants, elves and gnomes and fairies ; that mighty heroes and demigods have dwelt on the earth and tabernacled in flesh in the olden time! And is it not a little painful to behold such interesting beings, under the cold light of criticism, shrink to the dimensions of ordinary mortals like ourselves or vanish away altogether, and to find that instead of the fabled food and drink of the gods, the nectar and ambrosia, there never was any diviner fare than corn pone and whey, or maybe oysters and champagne ! We often share in a similar disappointment to the children's when told that Santa Claus is something or somebody else.

"O, ye delicious fables ! where the wave

And woods were peopled, and the air, with things So lovely! why, ah, why has science grave Scatter'd afar your sweet imaginings ?" 2

The "dim blue Hill of Dream" has vanished. We no longer hear

"The little children of the wind

Crying solitary in lonely places. " 3

Dryads, naiads, fays and talismans, are all but gone, and are taking the Red Man and the witch-doctor along with them.

"The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest, by slow stream, or pebbly spring,

1 W. B. Yeats, Land of Heart's Desire. a B. W. Procter (Barry Cornwall). ■William Sharp (Fiona Macleod).

Or chasms and wat'ry depths: all these have vanished; They live no longer in the faith of reason.

And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods that used to share this earth With man as with their friend. " 4

But "this visible nature," we protest, "and this common world, is all too narrow," and even though science and literary criticism warn us against superstition's nightly goblins and bid us walk in the clear bright light of the new day, we do not take very kindly to the change. We are slow to adjust ourselves to the new environment. We miss the "clear green depths, deep-shaded from the day" where nymphs were wont to disport themselves. We are loth to face

"The ghastly, jarring Truth, That questions all, and tramples without ruth." 5

We still would cling, no matter how despairingly, to the belief that

"A deeper import Lurks in the legend told our infant years Than lies upon that truth, we live to learn."

We miss "Tempe's golden air," our Delphi, and Mycense. Why should we thank Wolf for spoiling our dream, unsettling our belief?

"And after Wolf, a dozen of his like Proved there was never any Troy at all, Neither besiegers nor besieged, — nay, worse, — No actual Homer, no authentic text, No warrant for the fiction I, as fact, Had treasured in my heart and soul so long — Ay, mark you! and as fact held still, still hold, Spite of new knowledge, in my heart of hearts And soul of souls, fact's essence freed and fixed From accidental fancy's guardian sheath." 6

4 Coleridge, The Piccolomini, Act II, Scene 4.

5 Stephen Phillips, New Poems, p. 95.

"Robert Browning, Asolando, "Development."

Hence while we have learned the more correct evaluation of the Arthurian cycle, the Tale of Troy, the Nibelungenlied, and other creations of the imagination, they still exercise their perennial fascination upon all classes of readers.

While more heedful of the inner meaning of myth and marvel, we still like to look at Arthur and his splendid court, the gardens and the halls of "tower'd Camelot," through the gauzy Jiaze of the ages, and as we stand on the summit of the hills and see the cloud-shadows go sweeping by, to imagine the valiant knights of old galloping with hot speed along the mountain sides below. 7

Some there be who, since the arrival of the "new knowledge," would seek refuge in Art from the "sordid perils of actual existence," while others turn for relief from the deathly weariness of an unromantic world to Theosophy, or Spiritism, or perhaps to their goblets.

Tennyson, quite in the spirit of the new age, urges the importance of facing the stern facts, the true reality of things, and the supreme value of the Christian faith in fitting us to cope with the same and to be "more than conquerors." That is the one great purpose of his song. Arthur's knights were Christian soldiers in full armor.

What amount or proportion of history and legend are embedded in the Arthurian story it is impossible to determine. The actions and character of men living in the remote past are usually subject to distortion and exaggeration.

So scanty are the authentic historical records of Arthur's career, and so confused the chronicles, that neither date nor place of birth or burial can be ascertained ; nor is there anything definitely known concerning the seat of his court, which has been variously located at Glastonbury, Winchester, Caerleon-upon-Usk, and on the river Camel (or Cam- Ian) in Cornwall. In later Arthurian literature Caerleon appears as the seat of Arthur's central court. Equally indefinite are the accounts of his coronation, and of the character of his knights, notably of Sir Gawain.

7 Note A. "Age of Romance," p. 236.

The Arthurian Cycle

There doubtless must be some basis of solid fact underlying such widespread and persistent traditions. Many there be who, like Caxton's friend, stoutly maintain that "in him who should say or think that there was never such a king called Arthur, might well be aretted great folly and blindness." Arthur, as we first know him, was a Welsh or British hero of the sixth century who fought against the Saxons, and who, by Malory's time (1470) has gradually developed into the ideal Christian king of England.

The oldest historical document (and probably the most reliable) in which Arthur is mentioned by name is the Historia Britonwm ascribed to Nennius (about the year 800). Here we are told that Arthur fought, together with the kings of the Britons, and was a leader in the battles against the Saxons. William of Malmesbury (1125), a fairly trustworthy historian, refers to "the warlike Arthur, a man worthy to be celebrated not in the foolish dreams of deceitful fables, but in truthful histories. For he long sustained the declining fortunes of his native land, and roused the uncrushed spirit of the people to war." By the beginning of the twelfth century Arthurian stories were circulating freely in Brittany, Cornwall, and Wales. As Miss Jessie L. Weston says, "Arthurian tradition was preserved in Wales through the medium of the bards, was by them communicated to their Norman conquerors, worked up into poems by the Anglo-Normans, and by them transmitted to the continental poets," who in turn translated them into English.

Geoffrey's Chronicle

It was Geoffrey of Monmouth (a Benedictine monk, who was consecrated bishop of St. Asaph in 1152) who, in his Historia Regum Britannia (1148), did most to give Arthur a place of great renown as an authentic historical character, a great "king of Britain." Whatever Geoffrey's sources of information were, his very interesting book bears clear evidence of deliberate romantic embellishment and expansion.

According to Geoffrey, Arthur was the son of Uther

Pendragon (supposed by some to have been a title given to an elective sovereign over the many kings of Britain). Uther falls in love with Igerne, wife of Gorlois, duke of Cornwall. Transformed by Merlin's magic powers into the semblance of Gorlois, Uther proceeds to the castle of Tintagel, on the Cornish sea-coast, in search of Igerne (or Igraine), where, in the absence of Gorlois, he gains ready admission, with the result that in due course Arthur was born. Soon afterward Gorlois dies, and after a while Uther marries Igerne, and so becomes the father of a daughter, who became the wife of King Lot of Lothian and of Orkney and the mother of Gawain and Modred. When Arthur was* a youth of fifteen years, his father died, and he was crowned by Dubricius (Dyfrig), "archbishop of the City of Legions" — Caerleon (which, by the by, never was an archbishopric). Following some deeds of prowess which contributed to the unifying and strengthening of his kingdom, he married Guinevere, "who surpassed in beauty all the other dames of the island." Then came further conquests in the north, followed by twelve years of peace, during which the kingdom enjoyed great prosperity and his court waxed in splendor. Then "was his heart uplifted, and he set his desire upon subduing the whole of Europe unto himself." Norway and Gaul were speedily subjected. Before proceeding further, he returned to Caerleon for his second and imperial coronation, to which were bidden kings and princes and warriors from every province of the British islands and from other parts. From the "high solemnity" of the coronation he set forth with a mighty army against the Romans, who had demanded tribute, and passed once more into Gaul. There he defeated a much larger army of the Romans than his own, and had already started to cross the Alps and to march upon Rome when he received intelligence of the revolt of his nephew Modred, "unto whom he had committed the charge of Britain, but who had tyrannously and traitorously set the crown of the kingdom upon his own head, and had linked him in unhallowed union with Guenever the Queen in spite of her former marriage." Returning immediately, he engaged in several battles with Modred, and in the final engagement on the river Camel (Camlan), in Cornwall, he slew Modred, but having himself received from Modred mortal wounds he was "borne thence unto the island of Avalon for the healing of his wounds, in the year of the incarnation of our Lord five hundred and forty-two."

Geoffrey's history professes to be derived from a "British book," an ancient Welsh chronicle, which was brought from Brittany by Walter, archdeacon of Oxford, and which Geoffrey translated into Latin. This may or may not have been a literary ruse, as no trace of such a book has ever been discovered. Geoffrey borrowed largely from the Latin Nennius and from other chronicles and from folk-lore. His work was translated into French verse and, colored and graced by the art of the French translators, found its way back again into English verse in Layamon's Brut; and thus the earliest romances and songs of Wales influenced English literature in a roundabout way through the French. These old tales are wholly given to feats of adventure, recounting merely deeds of animal courage and passion.

The popularity of Geoffrey's History was immediate and immense, although there were not a few keen critics who regarded it as fiction under the guise of a chronicle. His narrative received many additional details and embellishments by Wace (1155), a Norman poet who translated Geoffrey's History into French verse. Wace was the first Arthurian writer to mention the Round Table, which he says was designed to prevent any claim to precedence among Arthur's knights. The priest Layamon soon after produced a spirited and amplified imitation of Wace's metrical chronicle, introducing a largely supernatural element.

Walter Map

It was the courtier Walter Map who, with the insight of true genius, was the first to combine the Legend of the Round Table with the Quest of the Holy Grail in one romance (about 1175), thus giving spiritual life to the old tales of chivalry and adventure. "The Quest" and the "Early History of the Holy Grail" were talismanic legends and had originally nothing to do with Arthur. It is interesting to note that Map's great prose romance of Lancelot, which included a version of the Grail story, was most likely the book in which Paolo and Francesca read one fateful day. 8 The Queste, which was largely Map's invention, is descriptive of a good man's endeavor after a knowledge of truth and of God, to be gained only through a life of purity. Chivalry was made compatible with celibacy, and knighterrantry divorced from sexual love.

Malory

Sir Thomas Malory, knight, "a servant of Jesu both day and night," finished his Morte Darthur in 1470. Caxton, the first English printer, brought out the first edition of it "with all care," in 1485. In it we have a compilation and artistic combination of all the richest treasures of medieval romance, presented with a most subtle charm of literary expression and scintillating with quaint similes and witty reflections. If the style be often inartificial, that is clearly owing to the difficulty of subduing the huge masses of the materials into a perfect whole. It is largely a translation and a collection from foreign sources, a garnering and sifting of a multifarious mass of manuscript material fused and fashioned into a continuous story by his own "epic genius."

Medieval Morality

The morality of the book has been called in question, notably by Roger Ascham in his Schoolmaster, where he protests that "the whole pleasure of the book standeth in open manslaughter and bold bowdry." In the days of Edward IV, however, morality was at a very low ebb and the social and political life of the country all in confusion. In Malory's book there are clear evidences of a new spirit at work which soon expressed itself powerfully through the Reformation. It was a time of transition and progress. The "open manslaughter" was mostly in the interest of law and good government, and guilty love in his pages always brings ruin and remorse, while purity brings peace. The moral law is, at least by implication, upheld throughout. Ascham greatly exaggerates the evil elements and overlooks the

8 Dante, Inferno, V, 123-135.

brighter features, the many examples of knightly gentleness no less than courage, of self-sacrifice as well as hardihood. Malory errs in making celibacy, not marriage, the ideal of moral purity and human relation, and he condones certain evils in a way that would be impossible today. He is, however, an exponent of his age rather than a reformer. Malory himself was a devout Christian, but we should hardly expect in his writings the Christian refinement of a later age. While Ascham and his followers betray a certain bias in their strictures, Caxton's estimate of the work bespeaks a more judicial mind. "For herein may be seen noble chivalry, courtesy, humanity, friendliness, hardiness, love, friendship, cowardice, murder, hate, virtue, and sin. Do after the good and leave the evil, and it shall bring you to good fame and renown . . . and after this short and transitory life unto everlasting bliss in heaven; the which He grant us that reigneth in heaven, the blessed Trinity. Amen."

In thus "reducing" from French sources and transmuting by his art the legends which he yet faithfully preserves, Malory gave new life to the Arthurian story, and from its first appearance his unique and masterly work has enthralled the popular heart and made a powerful appeal to many modern English poets. Spenser, in his Faerie Queene, makes "Prince Arthure" the type of "magnificence," that is of "noble deeds," and Arthur's knights represent the various virtues striving heavenwards. Drayton, Dryden, Scott, and later poets, artists, and musicians (notably Wagner), have drawn largely upon it. Milton originally intended to make Arthur the hero of his great epic, but doubting "who he was and whether any such reigned in history," rejected the Round Table as a subject in favor of the loss of Paradise. A somewhat remarkable decision that, seeing that Milton's Paradise Lost is just as much the work of imagination as the legend of the Round Table, nor is the Holy Grail any more of a fiction than the Tree of Life in Eden or his own Samson Agonist es.

Tennyson

Lord Tennyson follows Malory's Morte Darthur in its main narrative and in its ethical import, while he smoothes away its incoherences and its confusions and gives a refining touch to some of its ruggedness. Under his skilful hands the old legends are invested with a new beauty and significance, which from the modern Christian point of view is a decided gain, although one "must in a manner and for the time forget the old before he can read the Idylls of the King without a somewhat sad feeling that these are not the old knights whom he has always known." 9

The Arthurian story thus grew in beauty and interest with every new writer. At first it was a tale of battles ; then woman and chivalry came in to soften it, — scenes of love being introduced to please and entertain the courtly ladies ; and lastly were embodied the spiritual elements associated with the Holy Grail.

With all the bewildering mass of material at hand, it would seem an impossible task to disengage the authentic from the romantic Arthur. Wace pertinently says, "Nor all a lie, nor all true, nor all fable, nor all known, so much have the story-tellers fabled, in order to embellish their tales, that they have made all seem fable." Gibbon complains that the true history of Arthur, "the hereditary prince of the Silures, in South Wales, and the elective king or general of the nation," has been obscured by monkish fictions. "It is impossible to allow the reality of the Round Table." With the coming of the light of science and reason, "the whole visional fabric melted into air ; and by a natural though unjust reverse of the public opinion, the severity of the present age is inclined to question the existence of Arthur." 10

Nennius

The evidence of Nennius (400 years before Geoffrey) is in the main to be relied on. He tells us that Arthur was dux bellorum, and led the armies of the British kings against the Saxon invaders, whom he defeated in twelve great battles.

That he was not a king but the highest British official, a

9 Sir Edward Strachey, Le Morte Darthur, Intro, p. xxvi.

10 Gibbon, Roman Empire, Ch. xxxviii.

commander-in-chief, who held a roving commission to defend the island whenever attacked ; that he successfully fought the Saxons, was betrayed by his wife and nephew, and fell in battle: there we probably have the original elements of the Arthurian legend. Other elements soon crept in, and he is made a hero of prehistoric myth, a Brythonic divinity. 11

King Arthur

Excalibur. Malory, drawing largely no doubt upon his own imagination, tells us how Arthur came to the throne. Arthur knew not the story of his birth. When he was born his father, Uther Pendragon, had given him to Merlin the Wizard, who carried the child to a good knight, Sir Hector, to nurse and bring up, because he knew the trouble that was coming, for upon the death of the king the nobles fell to fighting each other and brought the whole kingdom to waste and ruin. Each thought himself fitted to be king and, strengthening his own castle, made war on his neighbors.

When Uther died and Arthur was now come to manhood, Merlin went to the archbishop of Canterbury, who, following the Wizard's instructions, called to London at Christmastide all the barons and knights of that realm, "all the lords and gentlemen of arms," that they might pray for peace and deliverance from ruin, seeing that the kingdom was now so much divided. When Uther died none knew save Merlin that he had an heir living; and the nobles were in perplexity as to whom to make king, as there were many claimants to the crown. But that was the age of miracles. When they came forth from high mass at the Abbey (or was it St. Paul's?) on Christmas morning they beheld an anvil set on a stone, and, stuck in the anvil, a sword great and strong. On the stone was written: "Whoso can draw forth this sword is rightful King of Britain born." One by one the barons tried to wrench out the sword, but try as they might, each man failed. They met again on Easter Day to try the same experiment, and with the same result. None of them could move the sword one inch, and they all drew back ashamed. Then Arthur climbed upon the stone

11 Sir John Rhys, Arthurian Legend, p. 8.

and lifted the sword easily from its cleft, whereupon they all acclaimed Arthur King of Britain, and the archbishop set the crown of the realm upon his fair young head.

That sword figures largely in later adventures and, in Arthur's hand, proves a most terrible and deadly weapon. "They fled from him like sheep from a fierce lion. Nought might armor avail them but that Caliburn would carve their souls from out them with their blood."

Gumevere. Scarcely had Arthur ascended the throne when a number of kings, who knew not of his royal birth and refused to acknowledge his rightful sovereignty, joined their forces and came up against him in battle. Two good kings of Gaul, Ban and Bors, came to Arthur's aid, and together they overthrew the enemies. Then in turn Arthur had to render similar service to these two kings of Gaul, and was gone a great while. Upon his return he found his kingdom devastated by war; great tracts of forests had grown up, wild beasts had multiplied alarmingly and so had the population diminished ; the fields had been left untilled and the gardens were overgrown with weeds. The people had become demoralized. Bands of robbers infested the woods. There was nought but swearing and breaking faith, and killing and stealing; no respect for women, no regard for children, "no truth, nor goodness, nor knowledge of God in the land."

Arthur set himself resolutely to change all this, and to inaugurate a reign of justice and good will. The king's reform measures soon began to tell for good. A favorable beginning had been made, and the land began to smile again. Arthur fell in love with Guinevere, the beautiful and only daughter of Leodogran, king of Cameliard, the "fairest of all flesh on earth," and spite of Merlin's warning they were married at Canterbury ("at Camelot," Malory says), where, for the good of the country and for the strengthening of his throne, Arthur instituted the new order known as the Knights of the Round Table. Chief among these was the most valiant, meekest, and gentlest knight, Sir Lancelot of the Lake, who had escorted Guinevere from her home to be married to the king.

Had the king heeded Merlin's protest, it would have been well both for him and his kingdom. Merlin never took his sad eyes off Guinevere at the wedding ceremony and the investiture of the knights, for already he could see that Guinevere and Sir Lancelot had "changed eyes." The poison and the canker and the worm had begun their deadly work.

CHAPTER n

THE ROUND TABLE

Arthur s Cabinet and Constabulary. It is pretty safe to conclude that there was an Arthur, Artor, or Arturus, — a sixth century war-leader of the tribes inhabiting the old divisions of Britain known as Cumbria and Strathclyde against the encroaching Saxons from the east and the Picts and Scots from the north. The various traditions about him that grew around this nucleus of fact, his strength and skill, his many victories, the knighthood that he formed, the virtues he inculcated, his grievous trials, and the heroism with which he withstood adversity, mark the ideal king of romance. In Malory's account he is not immaculate, Modred being alike his son and nephew by his half-sister. He errs and sins and suffers ; but all the traditions set him high above his fellows in all that makes a man, a real prince, a military hero, a man of initiative, born to rule. His fabled reign was chiefly remarkable for the institution of the Order of the Table Round, of which Wace made the first mention, and which was honored with the number of one hundred and fifty knights, of whose deeds of prowess and gallantry many strange and impossible things are told. The order consisted almost wholly of tributary kings and princes, who swore allegiance to Arthur as Pendragon, and who were the executors of his will in matters pertaining to the welfare of the country. The order is said to have taken its name from a large round table at which the king and his knights sat for meals. One of the seats was called the Siege Perilous, because it would have swallowed up any unchaste person who happened to sit in it. It stood vacant until Sir Galahad, the pure, whose name was written on it in golden letters, came and sat in it with safety.

The duty which Arthur imposed upon his knights was the maintenance of peace at home and the guarding of the borders from invasion. The Knight's Triad, or triple moral motto, was this, — "Fidelity in friendship, sincerity in promise, and to honor and protect women and the weak." To be true to one's friend, true to one's word, true to one's sister, — these were the first elements of Arthurian morality, and to this every knight pledged himself.

A Christian Ruler

Still another and even a more distinctive element was added to the moral code of the noble order. At that time, Christianity had lost its hold upon the princes and people of Britain. Arthur revived it, put Christianity under arms, and knit his knights together in a bond of Christian fellowship. Arthur was first of all and above all a Christian, and he meant that every knight of his should be literally a Christian in complete armor. Caxton calls him "first and chief of the three best Christian kings," the others being Charlemagne and Godfrey of Bouillon. Nennius tells of the battle "at the castle of Guinnion, when Arthur bore the image of the holy Virgin Mary on his shoulders ('The Virgin sculptured on his Christian shield' 12 ), and when the pagans were put to flight and a great slaughter made of them through the might of our Lord Jesus Christ and of Holy Mary his mother." After the battle of Badon Hill (c. 510), Arthur returned southwards, kept his Christmas at York, and employed himself in, destroying the pagan temples of the Saxons and restoring the Christian churches.