Born, at Louth, 5 June 1807. Early education at Louth Grammar School. At Eaton, 1820–27. Matric. Trin. Coll., Camb., 1829; B.A., 1832. Browne Medallist (for Greek Ode), Camb. After leaving Cambridge lived abroad for some years. Married Maria Giuliotti, 1839. Settled in Florence. Removed to Jersey, 1859, Works: “Poems by Two Brothers” (anon.; with Alfred and Charles Tennyson), 1827; “The Isles of Greece,” 1890; “Daphne,” 1891; “Poems of the Day and Year,” 1895. He has edited: H. Melville’s “Veritas,” 1874.

General

  The fluency and freshness of Mr. Tennyson never fail him [“Isles of Greece”]: his heroines and heroes live, to him, in a land of eternal summer, amid immortal memories, and with a dim hope clinging to them that death may not be the end that it appears. The “intersection” of several stories in this book, and the amazing fertility of the poet’s vocabulary, combine to make the poem somewhat unmanageably long. It contains, I compute, between twelve and thirteen thousand lines; and there is not really poetic material in it, corresponding to this bulk. There is no growth, no concentration of interest in it; “linked sweetness long drawn out” defines it exactly…. The personality of Sappho as here depicted seems to me to be just such a shock to all previous notions of her as would be received by a person who, looking for a draught of fiery wine, quaffed by mistake a sort of drench of pure but tepid water. The perverted passions and sexless frenzy of Lesbos have been, rightly or wrongly, presented to us in English; whatever could be done in that way has been done, and with genius. No one will blame Mr. Tennyson for taking a more reticent line, and showing us a Sappho clothed and in her right mind. But all tradition, all poetic probability, is violated by making the one poetess who spoke the language of passion with fierce and absolute simplicity use the language of sermons on these subjects.

  “Daphne and Other Poems,” though not openly confessing itself a continuation, has so much in common with its predecessor in spirit, construction, and cadence, that the critic finds himself half-unconsciously repeating the opinions which he formed last autumn…. His Greek subjects are treated in a diffuse way, unrecognisable in his early work, and hardly to be expected from a scholar-poet. Herein is the radical difference between him and the singer of the “Lotos Eaters” or the author of “Empedocles.” There is no restraint, and consequently little artistic coherence; the tears of Niobe are an overflowing stream of introspective grief, and the miles in Atlantis are wearily long. The reader’s attention is taxed over-much, to the hurt of many fine passages of emotion and natural description which lie embedded in the verse. Mr. Tennyson has kinship rather with Wordsworth in his longer poems, where the “poetry” is strewn like oases in a weary land of philosophical theory.

  If criticisms might be made on the tendency here and there to dwell on the same note through too wide a sweep of verse, and to put into the mouth of Sappho and the rest too spiritualized sentiments, and thoughts which are too modern and involved, this, in our idea, is amply compensated by the unexpected fecilities of metre and phrase, and the quick, penetrating glances into the secrets and springs of life that lie beyond the material and sensible. To lovers of poetry this work, indeed, only requires to be made known to ensure its wide acceptance, as something approaching to the adequate expression of a genius which has been only too reserved and careful not to weaken its claims by too frequent appeals to the public.

  Here was a man of noble nature, imaginatively gifted, a poet who deserved a wider hearing. But he was indifferent to form. Poetry with him was but a side task. He had not Alfred’s passion for artistic excellence. There is usually no greatness without hard striving. He is to be classed with the singers of talent, but not of genius. Probably none of Frederick Tennyson’s books would have been published, but for the urgent solicitations of friends. It was chiefly through Hallam Tennyson’s influence that the later volumes were printed. His “Days and Hours” contained sixty-six short pieces, most of them characterized by luxuriant fancy and chaste diction. But the fatal defect of redundancy is found on almost every page…. Evidently, his main strength was put on his Greek studies, of which he was always fond. The first instalment of “The Isles of Greece”—namely, “Sappho and Alcæus”—appeared in 1890; the second, “Daphne,” in 1891. Properly speaking, they constitute one poem, for there is a thread of connection running through the stories of Sappho, Alcæus, Daphne, Pygmalion, Ariadne, Niobe, and other legendary characters of antiquity. The tales are wrought out with the epic fulness of the olden days, not suited to this hurrying age of ours which has no time to muse and dream. Life is too short to give more than an occasional half-hour to the old mythologies, however charming the fancies of the poet may be…. Here is the classical spirit, but not the classical restraint.

  Frederick Tennyson is practically without a style; he is, indeed, too simple, too genuine, to affect or to exaggerate. The antipodes of Browning, whose art he, naturally, as we have seen, could not accept, he recalls, in his directness and sincerity, our own Longfellow. But he is no imitator. Thus he does not—as it might be expected that he would do—take color from his greater brother. Throughout his poems there is scarcely a reminder of the conceptions, or of the diction, of the late Laureate. In one respect the difference between them is especially marked,—the poetry of Frederick is not characterized by the sage generalizations which are found in Alfred Tennyson’s lines, the wise sayings that lend themselves to quotation. At the same time, to continue the comparison, Frederick Tennyson’s verse is more equable and unflawed in its literary excellence than is that of Alfred…. His true distinction, and in this he is hardly less than his brother, is picture-painting,—delineation of what is grand and lovely in nature, reflection of what is noble and beautiful in humanity…. His is a softly glowing fire,—a lambent flame that illumines without consuming. The peculiar virtue and significance of the poetry of Frederick Tennyson may be said to be that it is the product of a cultured, virile English intellect and imagination, vivified and ripened by the sunshine and the genius of Italy and Greece. It is this rare fusion that has made the poet.

  Frederick Tennyson was from the first overshadowed by the greater genius of his brother Alfred. His lyric gift was considerable, his poetic workmanship choice and fine, and the atmosphere of his poetry always noble. But he has remained almost unknown to the modern student of poetry, and a selection of four lyrics in Palgrave’s second “Golden Treasury” has probably for the first time made Frederick Tennyson something more than a name to the readers of 1898. The poet was for some years under the influence of Swedenborg and other mystical religionists, but returned in his last years to the more simple Christian faith of his childhood.