There has scarcely ever been a great
poet (Dante perhaps excepted) who has not had his share of this pagan
joy in nudity. Goethe's "Roman Elegies" are undisguisedly Anacreontic,
and the most spiritual of modern poets, Robert Browning, is as deep and
varied and bountiful in the expression he gives to life in its sensuous
phases as in its highest ascetic transports.
Do not imagine, then, that I am apologizing for Tegner, I am merely
trying to account for him. From his Homer, whom he loved above all other
poets, he had in a measure derived that artistic paganism which
perceptibly colored his personality. There was nothing of the scholarly
prig or pedant about him. In his lectures he gave himself, his own view
of life, and his own interpretation of his authors. And it was because
of the greatness of the man, the unhackneyed vigor of his speech, and
the power of his intellect that the students flocked to his lecture-hall
and listened with enthusiasm to his teaching.
I am not by any means sure, however, that much of his popularity was
also due to what, at this stage of his career, may without disrespect
be called his immaturity.
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