such party. If to defend our homes and this England be "Jingoism,"
Tennyson, like Shakespeare, was a Jingo. But, alas! I do not know
the name of the party which opposes Tennyson, and which wishes the
invader to trample down England--any invader will do for so
philanthropic a purpose. Except when resisting this unnamed party,
the poet seldom or never entered "the arena of party polemics."
Tennyson could not have exclaimed, like Squire Western, "Hurrah for
old England! Twenty thousand honest Frenchmen have landed in Kent!"
He undeniably did write verses (whether poetry or journalism) tending
to make readers take an unfavourable view of honest invaders. If to
do that is to be a "Jingo," and if such conduct hurts the feelings of
any great English party, then Tennyson was a Jingo and a partisan,
and was, so far, a rhymester, like Mr Kipling. Indeed we know that
Tennyson applauded Mr Kipling's The English Flag. So the worst is
out, as we in England count the worst. In America and on the
continent of Europe, however, a poet may be proud of his country's
flag without incurring rebuke from his countrymen. Tennyson did not
reckon himself a party man; he believed more in political evolution
than in political revolution, with cataclysms. He was neither an
Anarchist nor a Home Ruler, nor a politician so generous as to wish
England to be laid defenceless at the feet of her foes.

If these sentiments deserve censure, in Tennyson, at least, they
claim our tolerance. He was not born in a generation late enough to
be truly Liberal. Old prejudices about "this England," old words
from Henry V. and King John, haunted his memory and darkened his
vision of the true proportions of things. We draw in prejudice with
our mother's milk. The mother of Tennyson had not been an Agnostic
or a Comtist; his father had not been a staunch true-blue anti-
Englander. Thus he inherited a certain bias in favour of faith and