FAREWELL. Farewell. The time has come when we must leave THE HOLY GRAIL AND ARTHUR'S KNIGHTS. It is one of the noblest characteristics of man to long for something purer and more beautiful than what he sees; and in most minds there is a conviction that the Ideal does exist and is only rendered imperceptible to us by our own imperfections. This desire and this conviction found utterance in the classical legend of the 'Music of the Spheres 'that wonderful harmony made by the heavenly bodies in their course, which was rendered inaudible to men by the grossness of their ears; and in later times we find the same cast of thought in the story of the 'Holy Grail'-the sacred Cup used at the Last Supper which was removed from the sight of men because of their wickedness. Both stories may be explained in the words-Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God;' but the Christian myth has some features which are not found in the classical one. It is more hopeful, for, while we know of no mortal who heard the 'Music of the Spheres,' we do read of the Holy Grail appearing from time to time to the pure-hearted, though its true abode was 'far in the spiritual city,' and it was thither that Sir Galahad at last followed it. Furthermore this later legend has acquired a human interest wanting in the classical story by becoming entwined with the Arthurian Romance; and these 'stories of the Table Round' have been endeared to most English readers by their treatment in Tennyson's 'Idylls of the King.' It is true that a still greater poet has spoken of the Music of the Spheres, but, where Shakespeare gives us scattered allusions, Tennyson gives us whole poems. The subject of the Knights of the Round Table seems to have been long attractive to our Poet Laureate, for among his early poems we find four on Arthurian stories-'Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere,' the 'Lady of Shalott,' the 'Epic,' and 'Sir Galahad.' As far as concerns the characters, there is little difference between the earlier and the later poems, except in the case of Sir Galahad, where there is a considerable advance in the conception. The Galahad of the early poem is selfconscious; he knows that he is a 'just and perfect knight of God: the Galahad of the 'Holy Grail' 'loses himself to save himself'; his whole being is absorbed, first in the pursuit, then in the contemplation, of the vision. And this brings us to another distinctive element in this legend. Purity is not the only thing which will ensure success in the Quest; self-annihilation is needed too. Sir Galahad and Sir Bors, the only knights who can be said to have fully attained the object of their aspiration, are not only spotlessly pure in heart and life; they are also 'selfless' men with this difference, Sir Galahad is absorbed in the love of the Ideal; Sir Bors loses himself in devotion to a fellow-man, being 'content not to have seen, so Lancelot might have seen.' It is beautiful to think of the vision being vouchsafed to the one no less than to the other, just as Abou Ben Adhem is blessed with the love of God because he 'loves his fellow-men.' The other knights fail through want of one or other of the two requisites. Lancelot's quest is one of the saddest parts of the poem. He starts in search of the Grail, hoping that the vision may free him from the sin round which all his noble nature was entwined; but release could only come by an exertion of his own will which he never made, so his fate was to be worsted by meaner knights, to be met on all sides by difficulties, and at last to see the Grail as a vision of terror, not of beauty. What a picture of Genius severed from purity! Still, Lancelot is noble, and at last he gained the victory over himself and died a holy man.' Not so Gawain-a nature utterly devoid of serious purpose, 'deafer' to holy things' than the blue-eyed cat and thrice as blind as any noon-day owl.' Of him we hear in the 'Passing of Arthur,' as a ghost blown about by the wind, uttering, as his constant cry: 'Hollow, hollow all delight.' 'Light was Gawain in life and light in death' says Sir Bedivere. Yes; far more hope is there of those who, yielding to strong temptations, commit great sins, than of those who, though they may be unstained by crime, go through life without one earnest thought, one noble aspiration, one reverent glance upwards. If one may despair of any human being, surely one may of a Gawain. Percivale, called the Pure, is impeded in his quest by the thought of self which is ever present with him. He goes forth, moved by his own desire, not, like Galahad, called by a voice from Heaven. Like Faust, he has no object but self-satisfaction, and, therefore, he is induced, on the first discouragement, to abandon the pursuit of the Grail and turn to meaner things-pleasure (the brook and the apples); love (the woman spinning); wealth (the 'yellow gleam' which flashed across the world'); fame (the city with pinnacles towering to heaven). His mind is constantly dwelling on himself; first on his triumphs, then on his sins, and at last, apparently without a thought of the duty he owed to his betrothed, he rushes, with self-willed impulse, into 'the silent life of prayer and fast and alms.' And yet he too is noble. Otherwise he would not have longed to see the Grail, nor would the pleasures of this world have fallen so quickly into dust and left him, 'thirsting, in a land of sand and thorns.' On Gawain such delights never palled. In fact, had Percivale rooted out from his life this element of self-seeking, he might, with his lofty aspirations and his pure life, have been a second Galahad. He fell a prey to a very subtle temptation; for there is scarcely anything harder than to detect ourselves when we long after what is good merely for our own gratification. We should, therefore, have some tenderness for the Percivales whom we meet-the characters who can be contented with nothing but what is lofty, true, and beautiful, and yet, through pursuing after the Ideal, not as a duty, but for the sake of self-satisfaction, are induced to turn aside to ignoble objects; who, finding these disappointing, doubt the reality of the highest things, as Percivale exclaimed 'So if I find the Holy Grail itself And touch it, it will crumble into dust,' and who at last unless, like Percivale, they meet with a holy hermit or a Galahad, make terrible shipwreck of their lives. The conduct of Arthur with regard to the Holy Grail is somewhat perplexing. It seems strange that 'the blameless king' should look coldly on the Quest. Perhaps this may be explained by regarding Arthur as the type of those noble, practical natures, whose aim is to do right, rather than to be good. Such men are wont to discourage neglect of work near-at-hand for visionary projects, and to blame contemplation when it takes the place of action. They do not realise that some characters must see before they can act, nor do they always perceive when the time has come for the introduction of new standards and ideals. Arthur had not yet learned the lesson taught by Merlin's sculpture. This, the poem tells us, consisted of four zones. 'In the lowest. beasts were slaying men,' i.e. men are the prey of their passions; 'in the second men are slaying beasts,' i.e. men are subduing their lower nature; ‘on the third are warriors, perfect men,' i.e. men who, having conquered the animal within them, have become men indeed; and 'on the fourth are men with growing wings,' i.e. men who are aspiring to higher things than they have yet attained. Over all was the statue of Arthur as the type of the noblest system yet given to the world. But it was evident that, when the 'growing wings' developed, men would soar to still greater heights, and this Arthur realised when, taught by sorrow and the light of approaching death, he said:— The old order changeth, yielding place to new, Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.' And, even at this earlier period, though his words discouraged Percivale, and were used as an excuse by Gawain, Arthur, with the understanding which all noble souls have for their peers, sees that Galahad has a call from Heaven. One loves to watch these two-the 'blameless king' and the perfect knight-reaching the same goal by different paths. Galahad first finds the Grail and then, in the strength of the vision which is ever present to him, goes on to noble action; Arthur begins by steadfast performance of duty and is led on to a realisation of the Infinite which encompasses our life. He never saw the Holy Grail, but can we read his declaration that many a time visions come 'Until this earth he walks on seems not earth, |