Memories of the Tennysons . knowing it in theirordinary conversation. The same was true of thegreat man whom they were celebrating that day. The old order changeth, yielding place to new ;the familiar dictum that men may rise on steppingstones of their dead selves to higher things; My strength is as the strength of ten because myheart is pure ; these and many other expressionsof the same kind readily occurred as illustrationsof the fact. Canon Wright went on to say that this restora-tion scheme owed itself mainly to the indomitableenergy of Canon Rawnsley, who had been warmlysupported by an ac
Memories of the Tennysons . knowing it in theirordinary conversation. The same was true of thegreat man whom they were celebrating that day. The old order changeth, yielding place to new ;the familiar dictum that men may rise on steppingstones of their dead selves to higher things; My strength is as the strength of ten because myheart is pure ; these and many other expressionsof the same kind readily occurred as illustrationsof the fact. Canon Wright went on to say that this restora-tion scheme owed itself mainly to the indomitableenergy of Canon Rawnsley, who had been warmlysupported by an active committee in Lincoln, ofwhich the Chairman had been the moving spiritand presiding genius. After the Rector of Somersby, the Rev. J. StovinLister, had seconded the vote of thanks the resolu-tion was supported by Mr. Ernest Hartley Coleridgein the following words :Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen, I count it a high honour and privilege. I do notof course speak on my own behalf, but as a Vice- 11) > j 5 - -It5 1 i 5. TENNYSON, THE POET OF ENGLAND 289 President of the Poetry Society and as the deputyof our able and energetic Secretary, Mr. GallowayKyle, who has come from London to be present onthis occasion. It would be an impertinence on my part toattempt to say how and why Lord Tennyson was agreat poet. But to those few of us who were bornunder his star and were contemporaries of hisprime, he was literally the poet par excellence andof right divine. And surely he was our one greatEnglish poet—living so English, thinking so English,dying so English. To speak only of his immediatepredecessors, Wordsworth and Coleridge, Shelleyand Keats, Scott and Byron, greatest of the greatthough they were, they were not first and lastnational poets. Nor was, save in one brief lyric,his great co-rival Robert Browning. But Tennysonhas set England before our eyes, he was the inter-preter of our feelings—the prophet, if not of ourcreed, of our faith. On either side the river lieLong fi
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