Fine Art in Romantic Literature [pp. 52-66]

_Fine Art in Romantic Literature.
The basis of all concord must indeed be
assumed; the harmonics or overtones which
are the very condition of unison can not be
dispensed with; but the touchstone of Romanticism, in music as in literature, is the
development of personality, the consummation of the individual.
III.
DURING the early Christian centuries,
when the world was filled with crime and violence, men sought the desert in order to live a
life of solitude. The measure of human
wickedness seemed full, and in escape lay
the only safety. At first in such wildernesses as the Thebaid, and afterwards in the
monasteries, devout souls vowed themselves
to eternal communion with the Father
of spirits. In this communion human nature found a real satisfaction. The struggle
for emancipation from the bondage of the
flesh became an end in itself. In proportion to the fierceness of the conflict with
besetting sin, was the worth of the victory
enhanced. Hours and days were passed in
silent meditation and prayer. At times the
devotee fell into a trance, in which the very
heavens seemed opened, and legions of celestial visitants descended into his cell. The
revelation of glory would have been insupportable, were it not that the soul, intoxiicated with rapture, nerved itself to receive
more and more of the divine energy. To
some were vouchsafed glimpses of angels
and demons, battling for the future possession of a tried and fainting soul. But the
sight of these combats only intensified the
desire of the convert to make his own peace
with God. Here the Scriptures came to his
aid. He pondered upon the New Testament, and especially upon the Gospel narrative of the life of Christ, until the ascended
Lord became a living reality. Mystics like
Tauler and Thomas h Kempis burned for
union with this transfigured ideal, who was
at once friend and Master, the embodiment
of all life, all purity, and all love. Not
only was He the Supreme Judge of all the
earth, rewarding every man according to his
deeds, but was Himself, here and hereafter,
the reward, the consolation, and the joy.
Images borrowed from the Song of Solomon
were profusely employed to symbolize the
transport of this ineffable union. The flesh
was castigated, the body emaciated, in order
to remove the last obstacle which hindered
the free effluence and upward progress of
man's immortal part. Tennyson's description of Percivale's sister, the holy nun, will
apply to thousands of both sexes:
"And so she prayed and fasted, till the sun
Shone, and the wind blew, thro' her, and I thought
She might have risen and floated when I saw her."
Such aspiration is begotten of faith, and in
turn begets faith. The effects were marvellous. The maiden of "The Holy Grail,"
speaking with her knight,
"Sent the deathless passion in her eyes
Thro' him, and made him hers, and laid her mind
On him, and he believed in her belief."
The rapt contemplation of supernal mysteries is the favorite occupation of the mediaeval saints, such as Francis of Assisi and
Catharine of Siena. Men as unlike in other
respects as Pascal and Jeremy Taylor here
meet upon common ground. The spirit asserts its lofty destiny and privileges, spurns
its limitations, refines away the grossness of
its material integument, and escapes into the
pure empyrean. The invisible chords of the
soul tremble into music. It is an /Eolian
harp for the winds of heaven to play upon,
and the response from other spheres is blent
with its melody.
Nor are we to imagine that this note
is peculiar to the romantic literature of
the mediaeval period. Henry VIII. despoiled
the abbeys and evicted their tenants; but
neither he nor the philosophizing eighteenth
century has quenched the fine ecstacy of
this music. It thrills again in the consecration song of Wagner's "Parsifal"; it is -the
"slender sound as from a distance beyond
distance" of Tennyson's Idyls. Who, if he
were not familiar with "The Excursion,"
would believe, on reading the following lines,
that they were written by the poetical anchorite of Rydal Mount, and not by a contemporary of Abelard?
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[July,