other countries. He had, at least, a touch of national contempts, even
of national hatreds. His position towards France was much that of the
British sailor of Nelson's time. His position towards Ireland was that
of the bishop, who has been a schoolmaster, to the naughty curate who
has a will of his own. His position towards Scotland was that of one who
was aware that it had a geographical existence, and that a regiment in
the English army which had a genius for fighting was drawn from its
Highlands. He condescends to write a poem at Edinburgh, but then
Edinburgh was of English origin and name. Even with that help he cannot
be patient of the place. The poem is a recollection of an Italian
journey, and he forgets in memories of the South--though surely
Edinburgh might have awakened some romantic associations--

the clouded Forth,
The gloom which saddens Heaven and Earth,
The bitter East, the misty summer
And gray metropolis of the North.

Edinburgh is English in origin, but Tennyson did not feel England beyond
the Border. There the Celt intruded, and he looked askance upon the
Celt. The Celtic spirit smiled, and took its vengeance on him in its own
way. It imposed on him, as his chief subject, a Celtic tale and a Celtic
hero; and though he did his best to de-celticise the story, the
vengeance lasts, for the more he did this the more he injured his work.
However, being always a noble artist, he made a good fight for his
insularity, and the expression of it harmonised with the pride of
England in herself, alike with that which is just and noble in it, and
with that which is neither the one nor the other.

Then, too, his scenery (with some exceptions, and those invented) was of